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Megumi would be lying if he said he couldn’t remember why he started hurting himself. It wasn't that he hated himself, but somewhere deep inside him he felt he needed to be pushed, for what he didn’t know, maybe just the overall act of being alive. It didn’t start with cutting. First it was just digging his nails into his arms, an act that couldn't draw blood or even leave a mark but it made the urge disappear.
The urge was like an anxiety burning in him. It was a nagging he couldn't make go away until he hurt himself.
The worst part is he didn’t really want to stop.
It was sometime after Tsumiki was cursed when he actually started to cut himself.
It was late that night and Megumi couldn’t sleep. He was tired, he was angry and the urge had never burned so much. He couldn’t get his nails deep enough into his skin; he even tried biting his arm as hard as he could. The feeling just became worse
He threw his blankets off himself and made his way to his dresser. In the top drawer under his socks and undershirts it was there. A blade, meant for a razor. A small piece of cardboard covered the blade, he pulled it off.
He pulled up the sleeve of his shirt covering his left arm, the blade in his right hand. He took a deep breath and pressed the blade down hard in the pale skin of his upper arm. He inhaled sharply, it hurt but it felt right. Like he had finally found the right punishment.
That was the first time Megumi never kept track of how many times he had cut himself since then.
Slowly years passed and Megumi was 15. He couldn’t tell if the scars from that first night remained since he had gained so many more. It was hard to keep it away from the adults in his life, he was pretty sure they knew.
He wasn’t sure what had even set him off that night. The whole day went well, his mission went smoothly, he trained with Maki, and spent time with his classmates. But then he was alone in his room.
Megumi liked being alone, being around people, even those he liked, was draining. But every once in a while he was terrified of what loneliness offered him. Terrified of how quiet it all was.
It led to the feeling, he still didn’t hate himself but the urge was there the same as it often was.
So late at night Megumi found himself in the washrooms of the dorms. His upper left arm once more cut and bloodied. He was careful as he washed his arm, the cold water stinging ever so slightly. The cuts never did end up bleeding that long.
Just as he was finishing up, he heard the door open. He froze. He swore he had locked the door.
“Oh, Fushiguro, sorry I didn’t-” Itadori stopped talking as he rounded the corner.
Megumi knew why, he couldn’t mentally prepare himself for what would follow.
“What happened?” Itadori was suddenly at Megumi's side pulling his left arm toward himself, “did you get hurt on the mission…”
Megumi jerked his arm back and pulled his sleeve down, “it’s nothing, don't worry about it.”
Megumi didn’t want to deal with this, he didn’t want Itadori to know this side of himself, hell he didn’t want anyone to know it. He had kept it secret for two years, and today he fucked it all up by leaving the door to the bathroom unlocked.
There was silence, Itadori again grabbing Megumi’s arm, but this time Megumiu couldn’t find it in himself to pull his arm back.
Maybe he wanted someone to know after all.
Itadori slowly pushed up the sleeve to Megumi’s shirt. He frowned upon seeing the old scars and fresh cuts. “You did this, didn’t you Fushiguro?”
Megumi didn’t say anything, he knew that Itadori knew the truth. Itadori probably only asked to give some air of denial, if it was for Megumi or Itadori himself he had no idea.
Itadori brushed his thumb close to the healed scars. Itadori's usually joyous disposition was replaced by something solemn.
“Sorry,” Megumi mumbled, he knew he had no reason to apologize, he just felt like it was something he had to say.
“How long?”
“Since Tsumiki.”
“Why?” Itadori was still holding Megumi’s arm, still examining each scar that was there.
“I…” Megumi wasn’t sure if he should explain this, he already felt that Itadori knew too much already. The last thing he wanted was for his classmate to worry anymore about him.
“Fushiguro,” Itadori’s eyes met Megumis. There was a soft pleading in his gaze, Itadori wanted Megumi to open up to him. He wanted to hear his pain, he wanted to help.
Megumi took a deep breath, “I…” he never expected this to be the hardest part. “I just felt like I had to, like a punishment.”
“For what?” Itadori’s voice was soft, it was kind.
Megumi hated that Itadori was being so kind to him.
“I don’t know,” Megumi’s voice cracked, he didn’t even realize he was fighting back tears until he was unable to stop them from falling. Slowly, and with help from Itadori, he was sitting on the floor with Itadori sitting across from him.
Itadori moved his hand from Megumi’s arm to his face, he tried brushing away Megumi’s tears but it was pointless. The kinder Itadori was to him the more Megumi cried.
He was mad, mad at himself for this. He didn’t care about hurting himself, he never had, but he didn’t think it would reach a point where he was hurting the people around him, the people he cared about. And, it was even worse because Itadori wasn’t mad at him, in fact, Itadori was still being kind to him, to kind even.
“We should tell Gojo about this,” Itadori suggested.
“No,” Megumi said louder than expected, “he can’t know, no one else can.”
“Why?”
Megumi wanted to scream, but he couldn’t, he was struggling to just speak through his tears, “I don’t want him worrying about me.”
Itadori frowned, “does anyone know?”
Megumi shook his head.
Itadori gripped Megumi’s hands with his own, “because you don’t want them to worry about you?”
Megumi nodded.
Itadori didn’t say a thing in response at first, he just squeezed Megumi’s hands, leading to a silence that was occasionally broken by the sound of Megumi sniffling as his tears slowly began to stop slowly. Itadori never once letting go of Megumi’s hands.
“It’s late, we should go to bed,” Itadori eventually said.
Megumi didn’t respond, not even with a nod. He wasn’t sure he wanted to go to bed. He was tired but he didn’t want to sleep, he didn’t want to be in his room. He realized he had no idea what he wanted to do rather than sitting on the bathroom floor.
As Itadori stood up he slowly pulled Megumi up with him. And when they were both standing Itadori gently pulled Megumi along with him.
Slowly the two made it down the quiet and dimly lit halls of the dorms. The two eventually reached the doors to their rooms. Megumi thought at this point Itadori would let go of his hands leaving him so he could go into his own room, instead Itadori led Megumi into his room.
Itadori’s room is what one would expect from a teenage boy, it was a bit disorganized and there were pin up posters on the wall that Megumi couldn’t understand the appeal of and a small pile of laundry on the floor near the foot of the bed.
Megumi knew he shouldn’t have found his classmate's room so comforting but it was.
Itadori brought Megumi to the bed, sitting him down. After Itadori left and went into his closet and grabbed a small first aid kit. With the first aid kit in hand he went back over to Megumi.
“Hopefully everything I need is still in here,” Itadori’s voice had lost the tinge of sadness it had back in the bathroom. He opened the kit and started pulling things out, the first being alcohol swabs.
Itadori once again grabbed Megumi’s arm pulling up his shirt sleeve. Some of the cuts were crusted over by a small amount of dry blood, others were red marks carved into Megumi’s skin.
Itadori opened the packaging of one of the swabs, he didn’t tell Megumi that it would sting and Megumi didn’t need to be told. He rarely cleaned his arm with anything more than hand soap and cold water, and that also stung more often than not.
Megumi bit the inside of his cheek when Itadori started to clean his arm.
Itadori, who Megumi had seen do things beyond human capabilities, someone that Megumi knew was perhaps endlessly strong, was so careful as he worked. The softness in Itadori’s hands was such a sharp contrast to that strength that Megumi wondered if one of the two options was fake.
Once Megumi’s arm was clear of blood leaving on angry red marks Itadori pulled some gauze and bandages. “I know the bleeding stopped,” he said, as he began placing the bit of gauze over Megumi’s cuts, “but this should keep them clean.”
Megumi watched Itadori, wondering for a moment where all his kindness had come from. Since they met Itadori has always been kind to him. Sometimes he struggled with that idea, a stranger who risked his life for him, a stranger he so selfishly saved. Itadori wasn’t a stranger to Megumi anymore, but he was still so kind to him.
Itadori finished wrapping Megumi’s arm, and after he tapped down the bandages he looked back at Megumi and into his eyes.
“Fushiguro,” the kindness in Itadori’s voice now accompanied by a sternness.
“Yeah?” Megumi responded with a quiet voice.
“Promise me one day you’ll tell someone.”
Megumi in truth, never wanted any of the adults in his life to know, or really anyone. He had hid his scars so well up to this point. He didn’t want Gojo or Shoko hovering over his shoulder, he didn’t want a lecture from either of them as well.
But since the very first day Megumi met Itadori he found it hard to say no to Itadori’s sincerity.
“One day,” Megumi replied with a sigh.
“I’ll even be there with you, if you want.”
“Thanks.”
Itadori smiled again, his usual bright smile, and Megumi responded back with a small smile of his own.
It was after that when Itadori noticed the time. “Oh shit we really should be sleeping, “ he said, showing Megumi his phone.
“Shit,” Megumi responded, starting to get off of Itadori’s bed, but as he did Itadori grabbed his arm.
“You should stay here tonight,” Itadori said.
Megumi was quiet for a second before nodding, “sure.”
Itadori seemed excited at the sudden sleepover. He moved as far as he could on one side of the bed, leaving room for Megumi.
Megumi crawled into bed next to Itadori, Itadori almost instantly going into snuggle with Megumi.
There was silence as the two started to drift off to sleep.
“Megumi,” Itadori spoke, using Megumi's given name instead of his last name.
“Mh,” Megumi mumbled, mostly asleep.
“Thank you for telling me, even if it was just a little.”
Megumi feels tears welling his eyes again.
“Yeah,” Megumi responded, “thanks for listening.”