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Megumi is caught off guard when a large claw makes contact with his body, flinging him across the clearing. As he flies through the air, he prays that he doesn’t land in a bush or something of the sort.
Thankfully, he hits the ground.
He tumbles for a bit due to the force of the hit he sustained, and ends up flopped on his back. He realizes belatedly that his ears are ringing, and his body feels sort of numb.
The ground beneath him is cold, unforgiving, and dirty. The night sky is dark and filled with a multitude of stars that come with being so far out into the countryside.
It’s a rare sight, especially for a city dweller. He wishes he could stay just to gaze and admire.
When Megumi feels warm liquid seeping into his uniform jacket, he moves his hand to touch the moist fabric, but instead finds himself in contact with a raw, bloody laceration in his side. It’s only then that the boy feels the throbbing pain and sharp burning sensations that emanate from the wound.
Oh, that’s not good, the shikigami user assesses wisely. Hopefully Itadori doesn’t mind.
Megumi thinks back on when he had realized that his one and only soulmate was a certain Itadori Yuuji.
The discovery happened when Sukuna had ripped the other boy’s heart out. The pain he had felt in his own chest back then was almost instantaneous, delayed by a mere second while the organ had been disconnected from the rest of Itadori’s internal system, but was more painful and intense than anything he had ever felt before.
Considering the fact Megumi had never had his heart clawed out of his body, it really shouldn’t have been a surprise at how badly it hurt.
But the shock value had come from the very fact he felt anything at all.
He shouldn’t have because he was never supposed to. Megumi’s soulmate wasn’t supposed to be Itadori, and neither was Itadori’s supposed to be him.
How could the universe be so cruel to pair such a person that was Itadori Yuuji with someone like himself?
To write destiny to allow him someone who he was never meant to have in the first place?
And then set a dangerous and ambiguous time limit over them as higher authorities commandeered his soulmate’s fate?
But a smaller predicament is that he still hasn’t mentioned to Itadori that he is aware of the fact that they are soulmates.
The soulmate in question has never brought it up either, so Megumi presumes that the boy just prefers them to not discuss it, which is perfectly alright for Megumi because just knowing is enough.
It would be a burden if their soulmate bond getting acknowledged means complicating everything else—whether it be their friendship, work as Jujutsu sorcerers, or as individuals themselves.
The pain in his side flares up once again, reminding Megumi of its existence. He suddenly realizes that he is not only bleeding a lot from that particular wound, but also in various other places.
The back of his head is tacky, most definitely matting his hair in blood and dirt; his left arm has a shallow, yet long gash from when he had narrowly dodged a swipe from the cursed spirit; his left leg sports a similar cut as it had also been caught in the same hit that got his arm.
It’s honestly astounding how Itadori could possibly still be standing and fighting without even a blink at any pain he experiences. Megumi can feel a throbbing in his abdomen where the other boy had received an impact, as well as aching in his right leg.
He thinks of calling Gojo, who could get to Shoko easily, but he finds that his phone is nowhere to be found when he fumbles for his pockets.
He definitely requires healing, and there is only one person for hundreds of miles capable of helping him, but they have never even broached the topic before.
Fuck.
As his last resort, the sorcerer claps his hands together to make a dog shape as best as he can while suffering from pain on the ground.
“Divine Dog: Totality!” he calls out, summoning the wolf shikigami from the shadows.
When the black and white wolf materializes, Megumi shouts his command, “Go help exorcize that cursed spirit and bring Itadori over when the job is done.”
With a slight nod, the shikigami bounds off into the distance to follow the order.
As the dark haired sorcerer waits, blood seeping further into the dirt beneath him, he does some stargazing like he hoped for earlier. The sky could never fail to mesmerize Megumi with each and every twinkling light.
It isn’t long before he hears the approaching sound of paws slapping on the dirt ground.
He lifts his head in time to see Itadori jump off of Totality’s back to rush over to his spot in the clearing.
At the sight of the boy, Megumi releases his shikigami and allows it to melt back into the shadows.
“What happened?!” Itadori exclaims, frantically pulling Megumi up from the ground and into his arms. The motion only makes the world spin above him as he tries to ignore the pounding ache in his head.
“Uh, I think I got hit?” Megumi responds without grace.
“Well, no shit.” Itadori has the audacity to roll his eyes at him, ever tactless. “God, you look like you’ve been hit by a car!”
“That curse’s arm sure weighed like a car…”
Dragging his eyes all over Megumi to take note of all his injuries, Itadori bites his lip in worry.
In his prior panic, Itadori seemingly hadn’t noticed the tacky warmth on his hands when he had made contact with Megumi, or the large gash in his side opposite to him, but now he gets a thorough look and his eyes widen in shock.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit– Fushiguro, you’re bleeding!”
Megumi coughs, blood spilling from his lips. “Yeah, people tend to do that,” he says, deliriously.
He blinks blearily, eyes unfocused and glazed over with a far away look, as his hand automatically goes to try and wipe away the blood covering his chin.
Before Megumi can even reach his face with his hand, someone else beats him to it. Their thumb hurriedly, but gently, swipes at the red, cleaning his face as best as they can.
“Fuck, stay with me now! Don’t fall asleep, please.” The person pleads. He dimly recognizes that the voice belongs to Itadori, who is the one who went on this mission with him.
Huh, how did I forget that? Megumi wonders.
He hears Itadori begin to cough like a mirror to himself. Strange.
As much as he would like to stay awake, the dark haired sorcerer cannot help the fact his sight is already blurry with fuzzy black spots dotting his vision. If he focuses hard enough, which is difficult to do while he’s losing blood, he can sort of make out the panicked concern on his friend’s face.
“Hey… Why don’t you heal me already?” Megumi mumbles.
“Heal you? I’m not your soulmate though–”
“What are you–” he coughs, “what are you talking about? Of course you’re my soulmate, idiot.”
“No, Fushiguro, I’m not,” Itadori says with conviction, clumsily grabbing his phone from his uniform pocket. “Please, please don’t pass out.”
“I won’t… pass– pass out… if you heal me.”
Megumi hears the signature sound of a phone ringing, a near immediate click and a voice begins talking loudly on speaker.
“Yuuji-kun! What’s up?”
He thinks that the voice is familiar, but he honestly isn’t so sure.
Has there always been this much blood covering the ground? Is grass supposed to be red?
“Gojo-sensei, you have to get here now! Fushiguro is bleeding out and has multiple injuries. He’s about to pass out!”
The previously cheery voice goes quiet and a cold serious one speaks up in its place. “I’ll be there in three minutes tops.”
The beeps that follow are telltale signs that the call has ended from the recipient.
Itadori breathes a sigh of relief as he takes hold of one of Megumi’s hands, rubbing at them in an attempt at trying to warm them up, a near impossible task because his hands are almost always cold. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth, anxious.
“You’ll be alright soon enough.”
The shikigami user just hums and pokes a little at his bleeding side. He ignores the sharp sting that arises with contact.
“…I could be fine now if you just– just healed me already…”
Itadori flinches like he just suddenly felt pain.
“How… Did you just–? Okay, nevermind. Uh, how do I heal you?”
Megumi mumbles something about Shoko. The pink haired sorcerer gently rests his hands on Megumi’s chest.
Nothing happens.
“Shit! How do I heal someone?!”
Still, nothing happens.
“Sukuna, how do I fix this? Won’t you do something?” His soulmate begins to plead.
A notorious mouth grows on the side of the boy’s face. “Ha, as if I would help you!”
“Please, he’s bleeding out, and fast!”
The curse only scoffs. “He won’t die if that Gojo Satoru gets here within the next minute.”
“So Fushiguro is going to die if Gojo-sensei doesn’t appear immediately?!” Itadori begins to panic.
“Brat. Where’s your brain at? He’ll live,” Sukuna sneers.
Just as fast as it appeared, the mouth fades back into Itadori’s usual smooth, pale skin.
“That’s no help at all!” Itadori shouts, frustrated.
The last thing Megumi sees before he welcomes in the darkness that is unconsciousness is of a pink haired boy’s red bitten lips.
For a brief moment, he wonders what it would be like to press his own against them.
Would it be like how romance novels describe it? Fireworks crackling and popping as soon as contact is made? A feeling like the world has been balanced and they are the only people on Earth who matter?
His eyes flutter shut despite Itadori’s sudden frantic, desperate attempts at keeping him awake via shaking him by the shoulders.
If he had any more awareness than he did at the moment, Megumi would have knocked a fist on Itadori’s head for shaking him so aggressively. Didn’t the boy know how to treat people who were bleeding out and losing consciousness nicely?
The world fades as his hearing starts to go out, the last words he manages to catch ring in his mind.
“Hey, don’t you remember what you told me?! ‘If you die, I’ll kill you myself!’”
There’s a crackle in the air and someone with an immense presence walks forward, but Megumi is too out of it to even register it.
• •
It is early in the morning when he wakes up with bandages practically covering half of him, a needle digging up his arm connected to a blood pouch, a pounding headache, and Itadori Yuuji holding his hand beside him.
The sun has yet to fully rise, but Megumi can hear the faint chirping of birds in the far distance.
Itadori is sitting in a chair, leaning all the way forward to sleep on his arm laid on top of Megumi’s bed, facing him and clutching his hand in a loose grip. The dark haired sorcerer only gets a brief moment to admire the view before his peace gets disrupted.
The door to his infirmary room opens suddenly with a bang, smacking against the wall from the force. Megumi’s eye twitches in irritation, not only at the loud sound, but at the sight of who is responsible for such behavior.
Lo and behold, there stands the most annoying person in the world at his door—who also unfortunately happens to be his guardian—none other than Gojo Satoru.
“Morning ‘Gumi!” The man gives an exaggerated wave and grins wide with teeth, like his ward hadn’t been inches away from death a mere few hours ago. “How are you feeling?”
Gojo pulls up his blindfold and scans him with his unsettling bright blue eyes. Megumi squirms under the scrutiny of an apparent examination of his health.
“Just peachy,” he deadpans, glowering up at his teacher.
Shifting the blindfold back to where it normally rests over his eyes, Gojo puts his hands on his hip like a mom who is about to scold her child.
“You gave everyone a real scare, you know.” He pauses to raise a brow beneath the blindfold. “If Yuuji wasn’t able to call me and get me there on time to assist him, and if Nobara’s blood wasn’t compatible with yours, you would’ve been in the morgue already.”
The seriousness in his infamously immature guardian’s voice shocks the boy. He’s also mildly surprised that Kugisaki had donated her blood to him. Seems like he owes her a thanks, and probably a shopping trip as well.
“I’m— I’m sorry,” Megumi says stiffly, face blank.
His brows furrow and he looks down at his side, staring at the hand that continues to be clasped with Itadori’s own.
Gojo, ever perceptive and observant, follows the boy’s line of sight with his eyes.
“You’re lucky your soulmate is a fellow sorcerer. Yuuji was freaking out over your wounds, could barely follow along with what I was showing him, but he still managed to fix you up decently combined with Shoko’s healing.”
Megumi jumps in surprise and his head snaps up. He never even told Gojo he had found his soulmate, nevermind the identity of who it was.
His voice cracks when he speaks and he knows his brows are further scrunched up in confusion, “What?”
Sighing, the older man pulls up a chair to the other side of the infirmary bed. He lays his leg perpendicular on top of the other, with his arms crossed to his chest, before he continues the conversation. Gojo just stares at him, unimpressed.
“Yuuji called me. He was panicking about how you kept losing blood, he was even ignoring his own injuries. When I arrived on the scene, he was attempting to heal you, but no results, of course. Obviously he had to be your soulmate because I know that he isn’t capable of any healing.”
“I… Um…”
His mind goes blank at the explanation and he can’t get a proper word out.
What was up with him? Did losing what apparently was a lot of blood last night screw him up this badly the next morning?
Shit. He almost forgot about his other injuries.
Tentatively raising a hand, Megumi reaches for his head and feels a bandage wrapped all the way around it. He looks down at his arm and finds more bandages on display from the short sleeves of the T-shirt he was wearing.
Additionally, he can hear faint crinkling of bandages when he shifts his torso.
The sorcerer gulps, knowing what would be subsequent. He's about to be lectured. Lectured by Gojo of all people. His guardian leans forward in his seat, right on cue.
“Just because you’ve managed to find your soulmate doesn’t mean you can get reckless with your missions knowing you can get healed afterwards. There’s limitations to that kind of healing. It will never be able to regenerate entire missing organs, which includes blood. You're not only responsible for your own body, but also for the pain you are capable of causing for your soulmate.”
—because not only will they feel physical echoes of the same pain, but also heartbreak knowing their other half has been harmed goes unsaid, but Megumi hears it.
He knows what soulmates are and what they’re capable of; he’s read books and articles about the topic; he knows all there is to it; he doesn’t really need Gojo to give him this spiel, but he listens anyway.
And despite the blindfold over Gojo’s eyes, Megumi can feel his piercing gaze.
Always the coward, he looks down at Itadori beside him instead of meeting the stare.
There are dark circles under the other boy’s eyes and he looks exhausted, unusually pale.
The dark haired boy winces.
His voice is soft and quiet as he belatedly responds, “I know.”
Gojo stands and ruffles his hair, deeming the brief lecture enough for one day.
“Good. We all care about you,” he says with emotion, oddly vulnerable. “Don’t go getting yourself hurt. Not only for Yuuji-kun’s sake, but ours as well.”
Almost like he awoke at hearing his name, Itadori’s hands around his tighten their grip. The pink haired boy’s eyes open, blinking as he swiftly rises, Megumi’s hand still in his.
Somewhere in the back of his mind is saying that his soulmate probably didn’t get good sleep and has neck pain from the position he had been in—and Megumi knows it is as he feels a faint throb at the base of his neck and shoulder.
But despite it all, Itadori smiles happily before tackling the older boy into a rib-crushing hug without hesitation. “You’re awake!”
“Ack!” He coughs, patting the other’s back several times to signal that he needs to be let go or he might just implode from the force of the hold. “Itadori, please, I need to breathe. My side still hurts.”
The grasp the boy has on him eases to a tender hug, but he shows no sign of letting go as he nuzzles his face into Megumi’s shoulder.
“Welp, I’ll leave you lovebirds to it! See ya!” Gojo sing-songs cheerily, returning to his usual facade and leaving behind the solemn tone he had taken on a moment before.
The shikigami user doesn’t even get a chance to burn a furious shade of pink or yell at Gojo for referring to him and Itadori as “lovebirds” as his teacher zooms to the exit and quickly shuts the door behind him as soon as he finishes his sentence.
With his soulmate’s head tucked over his shoulder and arms wrapped snug around his torso, Megumi couldn’t help but relish in the warmth of the contact.
“Hey,” he says, patting the other boy’s head.
Itadori lifts his head and glares at him, his previous excited demeanor dropping. “Don’t hey me. Don’t ever get hurt like that ever again.”
“I’m really sorry,” Megumi mumbles into pink hair.
“I hope you know Kugisaki is going to murder you, and I’ll be helping her,” Itadori declares, voice lacking any sort of actual desire for his soulmate’s death, pushing his head against Megumi’s shoulder once again.
Ignoring the teasing threat, he goes to apologize again.
“I didn’t see the claws coming, I swear. I didn’t mean to scare you or anyone else like that,” he speaks low and earnestly. “Are you alright?”
Regrettably, Itadori pulls back from the hug, dropping onto the bed. He leaves his hands on Megumi’s shoulders, holding on gingerly but with tenacity.
He scoffs, unbelieving rather than unkindly, “Seriously? You lost like thirty-percent of your body’s blood last night, have bandages all over you from the wounds you got, and you’re asking me if I’m alright?”
“Yuuji…”
“No, really, Fushiguro, you go getting yourself hurt like that and the only thing that matters to you is if someone else is okay?”
He stays quiet. Itadori’s eyebrow twitches, jaw clenched.
“You didn’t see yourself last night, you didn’t see how drenched in blood you were. Probably was drowning in so much pain that you didn’t even realize how hurt you were.”
He closes his eyes.
“I was scared you weren’t going to make it,” the boy whispers, voice wavering. He leans into Megumi. “Your complexion was an unnatural pale color by the time Gojo-sensei left to teleport you to Ieiri-san. I had to wait to get back.”
The shikigami user holds one of his hands between his own, a silent apology. He is quiet as Itadori cries, rubbing soothing circles into his back.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
When Itadori settles down from his sobbing, he clings onto Megumi’s shirt. “I’m sorry, that was really unfair of me, it’s not your fault you got hurt. I’m just so glad you’re alright.”
“Yuuji, It’s okay. I understand. But really, are you okay, too?”
Itadori’s eyes widen as he registers the use of his given name.
“…Yeah, I’m okay. I’m sorry, I just… I don’t know what I would’ve done if I had lost you,” he says, pressing his face into Megumi’s shoulder again.
Megumi moves his hand over the other’s chest, searching for the thump, thump of his heartbeat.
He finds it and the pulse underneath his hand reassures him that the boy—his soulmate—is safe.
“You won’t. Lose me, I mean.”
“How do you know that?” he asks, and it comes out painfully melancholic.
Feeling bold, Megumi runs his hand through Yuuji’s hair. “Because at the end of the day I save you and you save me. It’s what we do, isn’t it?”
His soulmate sits up to look at him, teary-eyed. “Oh.”
“Oh,” Megumi echoes.
Yuuji’s red-rimmed eyes flutter shut.
“It hurt so, so badly feeling all of your pain and watching you bleed out, and wondering if you were going to make it while Ieiri-san did the blood transfusion,” Yuuji confesses, rubbing at his eyes. “Is that… Is that how you felt when— when I died? When Sukuna ripped my heart out?”
Megumi is known for his seriousness and standoffish personality, but his heart pangs with sorrow at his soulmate’s choked up words and the fresh tears that trickle down his face. He can’t even find it in himself to be upset at the throwback to an event he never wants to go through again. Distantly, he feels a prickle behind his own eyes.
“Yeah. Yeah, it was,” Megumi admits, quietly. “I tried so hard to heal that gaping hole in your chest… It didn’t work.”
Yuuji pulls him into a tight hug once again. Megumi returns it just as intensely, if not more.
“Feeling the phantom pains from you while you were gone drove me insane knowing you were somehow alive, yet not with me,” he murmurs.
Yuuji gently presses his forehead against Megumi’s. “I’m sorry. I really, really care about you. You know that right?”
The dark haired boy hums in response, closing his eyes. A warm hand grasps his wrist.
“Really, Megumi,” the other boy emphasizes, discerning the underlying doubtful tone in the hum he had received.
Yuuji looks into his soulmate’s eyes with a gaze like no other, encompassing warmth, love, and utter honesty in a single stare.
It is his turn to be surprised at his given name being used. Megumi’s name has never sounded so good until Yuuji said it. For a name that was given to him by a man who he can hardly remember, someone he barely even knows, and for it to disregard his gender, he has always felt bitter about it. He doesn’t outright hate it, but he dislikes it.
But hearing his name called in such a way—soft, each syllable spoken delicately; second half drawn out, settling on his name much longer than need be; the stare, brown eyes peering into his soul, the deepest part of him—it makes him want to hear it in his soulmate’s voice, again and again. He wants to listen to it on repeat like a broken record. Megumi, Megumi, Megumi.
He blinks out of his stupor. “I– I know, Yuuji.”
“Please. Please don’t ever get yourself hurt like that again.”
“Okay,” he whispers, staring into deep brown.
The knowledge of a repeat occurrence being highly likely and inevitable burns in the back of both of their minds, but they leave the fact untouched.
Being a Jujutsu sorcerer has never been a role that didn’t come without pain. Resilience and bravery is what the job calls for, especially when there isn’t a guarantee to safely return home after a mission.
That’s just how it is, and both of them know it.
The future would forever remain uncertain, not only due to their line of work, but that is simply how life plays out.
Yet the sincerity in his own voice reminds Megumi that he, never in a million years, would have imagined he would meet his soulmate and receive love like that of which Yuuji directs at him.
Fushiguro Megumi was truly surprised, but even more so by the fact he, himself, felt such a love for the other back. The feelings are mutual and reciprocated.
Never would he have pictured him being so close to someone, both physically and emotionally, and having such a vulnerable and utterly raw conversation.
He isn’t used to it. When was the last time he tried to be even remotely open and honest?
Suddenly, the pink haired sorcerer grimaces.
“What’s wrong?” Megumi asks, pulling back.
He knew that things were too good to be true. This would be when the other shoe dropped, wouldn’t it?
“Sorry, it’s just Sukuna being Sukuna,” Yuuji explains, rapping at his temple with his knuckles. He rolls his eyes at whatever it is the curse says in his mind.
“I’m surprised he didn’t say anything sooner,” he mutters, but he is relieved. Relieved that there isn’t anything else.
“Me too,” the boy chuckles, putting an arm around Megumi. “He’s going away now. Says we’re too emotional and gross for his liking–that soulmates are a bunch of garbage or whatever.”
“Good riddance.”
“You know, I… I didn’t even know you were my soulmate until last night—when I could feel all of the injuries that I could see on you,” Yuuji blurts.
“What?” Megumi hears a voice ask, before he realizes it is his own.
The single word sounded like it belonged to a stranger; confused, strangled, and frigid.
Suddenly his previous feelings returned. So this is the other shoe?
A beat passes before the other boy realizes his mistake.
“Um,” Yuuji chuckles awkwardly, mirthless. “I didn’t really realize it before because in all the instances that you got hurt after I met you, I was too distracted with my own pain at the time to notice that some of it wasn’t actually mine.”
Megumi thinks to himself that it was a good thing he had never mentioned the soulmate thing to Yuuji before. It would have been humiliating to have tried going for a serious discussion about it only to find out his soulmate hadn’t known at all.
He feels bitter for a brief moment until he realizes that it isn’t fair to Yuuji for him to be upset. The other boy really hadn’t known, and that was no one’s fault but his own for not saying anything.
Megumi takes a deep breath in, lets it out, and gets the feelings to disappear.
The sorcerer pinches at his own hand, pulling at a spot where his skin is thin, guaranteeing a reaction. A stinging sensation spreads. “Feel that?”
“Ow!” his soulmate yelps, slapping his hand over where he felt the pain. “Yeah, I feel it!”
Megumi releases the tension he had been holding, returning from stillness to his usual manner. He gives Yuuji his designated smile for him. “Idiot,” he teases, a wild contrast from a moment earlier.
Yuuji relaxes. This time when he laughs, head thrown back, it is full of delight.
“I’m so glad it’s you, though. I was really worried it wouldn’t be,” the boy confesses when he quiets down.
The admission is so candid, it reverberates in Megumi’s mind for a few moments. He can’t really wrap his head around the fact Yuuji had wanted him for his soulmate. He almost feels dizzy thinking about it.
“I felt the same way,” he admits back.
Yuuji smiles big and goofy, unabashed. He holds one of Megumi’s hands. “I should probably go tell Ieiri-san you’ve woken up, right?”
“Yeah, you probably should, but you should stay a little longer,” Megumi suggests, smiling, too.
He lifts the blanket to silently request the other to join him. Yuuji, understanding the message, lays under the covers besides his soulmate.
They lay on the bed in silence for a moment longer before Yuuji breaks the silence to ask the question he’s been itching to ask as well.
“…What are we now?”
“Anything you want us to be.”
The boy turns and leans forward to him. “I really, really like you, Megumi,” he whispers, like he’s been dying to admit it. “Not in a best friend way, not in a platonic soulmate way.”
Megumi opens and closes his mouth a few times, like a fish, wanting to respond but nothing coming out. Maybe he should have expected it with the way their conversation had been flowing, but he can only stare into his soulmate’s eyes as he continues.
“I want to hold your hand and shower you with kisses. I want to take care of you when you get hurt or sick, when you aren’t feeling up to it to do things yourself. I want to take you out on dates,” he pauses. “I want to be there for you whenever you need me. I’m yours if you’ll have me. There’s no rush.”
His brain is in overdrive, too distracted by the confession to even think about the implications of the words.
I want to be there for you whenever you need me. I’m yours if you’ll have me.
There was so much devotion directed at him. He wants to shout, I feel the exact same way! I want to be by your side forever! Please don’t ever leave.
And if he were a little calmer and thinking a little more logically, he would’ve mulled over the words ‘there’s no rush’ a while longer because they really do not have time.
Itadori Yuuji’s execution still looms over them like a bad deadline, and that’s exactly what it is—an unspecified day in the future where from then on, Yuuji would no longer be there with him and everyone else.
They did not have time. Never did, never will. This is just how their lives have been written out to be.
But he isn’t thinking clearly, so his line of thinking never reaches there.
So, before he can even think of a proper response or throw himself into a downward spiral over the aforementioned issue, he says the second thing on his mind instead.
“Can I kiss you?”
“Huh? Yes?”
Megumi practically pounces on him, holding the sides of the boy’s head with his hands and slamming his lips on his. He can feel Yuuji smiling against him and feel a slight smile of his own form.
It’s like he’s melting, on fire, and being transported into a whole other world—all at the same time. He feels truly mesmerized by it all.
He pulls back, mind muddled.
He just kissed Itadori Yuuji.
His lips had been on Yuuji’s.
He might just pass out right there. No way he just did that.
“So… boyfriends?” the pink haired boy asks meekly after they separate, a bright flush across his face, and totally unaware of Megumi’s inner turmoil.
Despite the way his mind raves as it continues to focus on how it felt to kiss his soulmate, he answers easily, “Yes.”
If he were an animated character, his eyes would be glimmering like he were coming back from a daze.
His soulmate grins, bright like the sun itself, and pumps a fist into the air. “Sweet!”
Megumi groans in disbelief, the haze he was in melting away. “Seriously?”
Yuuji, honest to god, bursts into giggles. “Yeah! Being officially yours is pretty sweet.”
“You’re so corny,” he huffs playfully, nudging the boy in the shoulder.
“You better get used to it,” his soulmate, and now boyfriend, laughs even more, poking one of Megumi’s cheeks. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good. I… really like you, too,” the dark haired boy finally confesses. It feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. How long has it been since he first wanted to do that? “I’ve been yours from the very day we met.”
“Well, I’d sure hope so after that whole kiss and conversation we had, not to mention our inseverable soulmate bond.” Yuuji teases.
He feels his face grow impossibly warm and he is sure it is a violent red as a result of his embarrassment.
Instead of responding, Megumi just pulls the neckline of his T-shirt over the bottom half of his face, a substitute for his uniform’s wide collar, to hide the raging blush. He swiftly twists in bed and turns over to the other side, leaving his back to face Yuuji.
Yuuji laughs at his flustered antics, not offended whatsoever. He drapes a heavy arm over his waist and holds him.
As the laughter dies down, Megumi can tell the boy’s wide smile has eased into a smaller, quieter one. He knows the intensity is all the same.
“Goodnight, Megumi.”
The time of day is actually morning now, sun having risen and the world bustling alive, causing a brief moment of confusion before he remembers it is still early and how worn out Yuuji had looked earlier.
“Goodnight, Yuuji. Thank you.”
“I’m not sure what you’re thanking me for, but you’re welcome. Always will be,” the pink haired boy mumbles back drowsily, curling into Megumi.
“For saving me,” he says, but the other has already fallen asleep.
He closes his eyes and listens to Yuuji’s quiet breaths, his ears still burning red and hot all the while.
Curled up into each other like they were, it is easy to forget what landed them there in the first place—easy to forget that whatever time they had together is slipping away quickly like sand in an hourglass.
• •
A fist connects with his head, thankfully only at a fraction of its true force. The perpetrator shouts, “Hey, idiot!”
“That’s no way to wake up a patient…” Megumi mutters, sitting up and rubbing at his forehead.
Seems like Gojo had informed Shoko that he was alright and one of them had relayed the message to Kugisaki because she now stood right next to his bed with a murderous expression on her face.
Yuuji is still asleep despite the loud intrusion by their fellow classmate, continuing to hug Megumi in sleep, completely unaware of the devil that had suddenly bursted into the room.
The orange haired girl jabs a finger in his direction, completely ignoring Yuuji beside him. “You owe me bigtime. An apology and thanks for starters, a shopping trip sometime this week, and blood in the future should I ever need it!”
Megumi scowls at her without any real anger behind the expression. “Fine.”
They have a staring–glaring, really–contest for a few seconds, before he inevitably blinks. Kugisaki revels in her win.
“Ieiri-san scared the fucking shit out of me when she called me in the middle of the night asking for my blood,” Kugisaki states.
She’s heading straight into a conversation that Megumi does not want to have.
Instead of replying, he breaks eye contact with her to stare off to the side. Hopefully she wouldn’t grill him for it.
“I didn’t even get a chance to ask what it was for because she just hung up on me! I rushed to the infirmary in my pajamas!”
The dark haired boy just nods, conveying a ‘Mhm, a real tragedy,’ with the gesture, knowing that staying silent is one of the best ways to avoid his friend’s ire.
“When I got here, you were bleeding all over the bedsheets of the bed like crazy,” Kugisaki pauses for a deep breath to calm herself for whatever it is she’s going to say next.
“You– You were so still, so bloody. I thought you had already moved on to the afterlife or some shit.”
Megumi’s heart skips a beat at that. Had it really been that bad?
“Yuuji was so panicked, you know that? Gojo-sensei was busy instructing him on how to heal you up and Ieiri-san was busy trying to shove a needle up my arm.”
Kugisaki is just straight up rambling now, but he hangs onto every word rather than tuning her out like he would have normally.
“Got my blood stolen and put into you, Yuuji and Ieiri-san healed you up—thankfully—and then I was told to go back to bed. Can you believe them? My best friend had been moments away from death, saved in twenty minutes, but I couldn’t stay because it was one in the fucking morning and apparently it was my bedtime?!” she seethes, indignant.
The girl is most definitely lost in her ramble because if she had been thinking with her head rather than her heart right then she would have never thought of acknowledging him as one of her best friends.
Kugisaki and him are very similar in that sense, always holding such feelings and matters close to their chest instead of letting them be known.
But she is still more open with it than he is.
The care and concern that she accidentally lets slip makes its way into Megumi’s mind, and for some reason, it feels good to know that Kugisaki has been so worried about him.
He knows she cares underneath that rough exterior of hers, but it feels good to hear it more clearly.
When he tunes back in, she is finally done.
“Ugh, it’s whatever since you’re alright now,” Kugisaki finishes her rant, shaking her head. “Ieiri-san still needs to check up on you, though,”
He nods.
“Well?” she prompts, tilting her head with a hand on her hip.
Megumi, unfortunately, knows what she is waiting for. It would be better to get this over with. “…Thank you, Kugisaki.”
“For?”
“For saving my life by donating your blood to me.”
She continues, “And?”
“And I’m… really sorry to have put you in that position. I– I’ll be more careful in the future.”
Kugisaki huffs clearly unsatisfied, but the quirk of her lips tells him that it will be enough for now. “Okay, that’s better, but what else?”
“Um. I’ll ask Gojo for his card to go shopping with you?” Megumi suggests, purposefully leaving out any mentions of his blood. He did not want to think of such a situation where she really would need his blood.
She does not point out that he had missed that part of her demand.
“Wonderful!” she beams, clapping her hands together, appearing like a totally different person from a few minutes ago when she had stared down at Megumi like he was next on her hit list. “So, how’s the Itadori department faring?”
The shikigami user sputters, both at the question and the whiplash of the unexpected conversation change.
Just how did you go from ranting about your friend’s almost-death to asking him about his… not-so-secret crush?
He feels an odd sense of deja vu from earlier that morning with Gojo as his face begins to flush while he says, “Huh?”
Kugisaki just gives him a very unimpressed look. She stares at her painted nails, inspecting them for chipping as per usual, while she waits for him to properly respond.
“It’s, um, going well.” Megumi coughs, making a point to not look at the boy that is still clinging onto him. Yuuji must have been truly tired to have not woken up yet, he thinks. “He’s… my soulmate. As you know.”
The girl’s eyes bugs out of her head for a moment, shock written all over her, like she’s just realizing it. “For real?!” she shrieks.
“Fuck, I was so busy with the blood transfusion last night I didn’t even notice that Itadori healing you wasn’t normal. God, you guys are a match made by the universe itself!”
The dark haired boy goes silent and a little redder. He watches as Kugisaki murmurs to herself, only managing to catch a few words. He hears something about “Maki-san,” “hurt,” and “bond,” and feels like he shouldn’t have listened in. Well, it isn’t really his fault as she spoke aloud, but the sentiment is still there.
Suddenly, Yuuji next to him shifts and peeks up at him. “‘Things are going well,’ huh?”
“How long have you been awake for?!” yells both Kugisaki and Megumi, each for different reasons.
“Long enough to hear Nobara say something about her blood being stolen.”
Megumi flicks him on the forehead blithely, ignoring the way faint pain emanates from the same spot on himself. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to eavesdrop?”
“Hey!” Yuuji squawks indignantly, hand going to his head and abandoning their previous position around Megumi’s waist. “It’s not eavesdropping if I was literally in the same room as the conversation—not even two feet away—and you both were talking so loudly, I was privy to it!”
“Whatever you say.”
Kugisaki looks between them with a look of disgust on her face.
She marches towards the exit, “Alright, I’m done here. Don’t ever display so much PDA in front of me again, you weirdos. You both owe me that shopping trip, by the way!”
Megumi frowns and decides he’s already dreading the trip. Kugisaki is already out the door before the pink haired boy beside him can even finish his sentence of “What did I do to deserve that?!”
Loud talking, a distant door click, and a brief moment later, Ieiri walks in with her clipboard and pen.
“Good morning, Megumi, Itadori. So, how are the both of you feeling?”
“Good morning, Ieiri-san. I’m alright, nothing hurts badly,” Megumi says.
“I’m good! Haven’t felt any of my own pain ever since I was healed up,” Yuuji reports.
“That means everything is going as expected,” Ieiri takes note of their responses, scribbling away on her papers as she approaches his bedside.
“As procedure calls for, I’ll be giving Megumi a quick check up, he’ll rest for a day or two, and then I’ll finally send him on his way. Itadori, you seem fine now, but make sure to take it easy.”
The two boys nod in tandem.
“Alright, let’s proceed then,” She finishes, clamping a fingertip pulse oximeter to Megumi’s index finger.
She waits for any anomalies in the reading.
She waits, and waits, and waits a little longer, brows slightly scrunched in confusion as she looks at the results.
“Megumi, do you happen to feel light-headed, chest pain, fatigue, shortness of breath, or any of the like?”
“Um, no? Maybe a little light-headed from dehydration?”
“Curious…”
Yuuji tilts his head, looking at Ieiri with worry. “Is there something wrong?”
“The numbers are a little higher than I would have thought. It seems I can’t get an accurate heart rate reading for dear Megumi,” Ieiri says, amused. “I’m going to have to ask you to step out for a little while, Itadori.”
At first, Megumi is confused, but his face heats up at the implications when he realizes. He’s sure the little monitor on his finger is now reporting the subsequent rise of his heart rate as well.
Yuuji does as asked without question, leaving the room with a chipper salute.
“It’s no surprise, really,” the doctor says once Yuuji has left. “He’s your soulmate after all, young love and all that.”
“Ieiri-san…”
“It’s not the first time I’ve seen it, I’m sure it won’t be the last either.” She covers her small smile with a hand and readjusts the pulse oximeter. “Sorry, sorry. I won’t tease you any more for today.”
He only sinks further into the bed.
Sometimes, he would forget that the one and only doctor of Jujutsu High has been friends with his insane guardian for more than a decade. She could be just as deadly with her teasing as Gojo if she wanted to.
“Alright, everything looks good over here.” Ieiri checks something off on her paper and removes the medical instrument from his index.
“Next, would you mind lightly pressing on the areas of your injuries to see how they are? The painkillers should have worn off a little while ago.”
Megumi nods and reaches for his temple. He presses his thumb down on several areas around his head, wincing when he touches one particularly tender spot. The pain radiates from where he had barely touched like a bad headache.
The door opens with a click and Yuuji peeps his head into the room. “Everything alright?”
Ieiri pretends to examine her notes, finding them to be incredibly interesting all of a sudden.
“I’m fine. Just seeing where I’m still sore.”
“Okay!” he responds, popping back out of the room.
Ieiri glances up from her clipboard to look at the door and then down at him. “He cares a lot about you,” she observes.
“…Yeah. He does,” Megumi says, trying his best to ignore how absolutely enamored he sounds.