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Fushiguro woke up in a puddle of cold sweat, clutching his chest instinctively. Panting frantically, he looked around; it was dark and empty and cold. What he had seen was just a dream. Again. The same dream he'd been having every night since Itadori had surprised everyone with the fact that he had curiously come back to the land of the living. In fact, Gojo had been hiding that reality from his students for two whole months and Megumi couldn't help but be pissed. He'd been giving his mentor the silent treatment for some time now.
Megumi decided he should try going back to sleep. The last thing he needed was to pass out during a mission or something of the sort. He was very serious about his sleep schedule, he was known for being the most vigilant on the job and he would settle for no less of a title. He needed his rest. Megumi laid himself back down and shut his eyes tight before those hands–no, claws–dripping with crimson blood, squeezing the beating heart of his friend flashed in his mind yet again. There was no chance that Fushiguro was subjecting himself to this endless torture tonight and so, he had nothing to do but to stare into oblivion.
Just like he had done when it really happened, all he did was stare at Yuji as he smiled and fell to the ground in his dream, completely helpless. Just like the real thing, there was blood. So much blood, he remembers that, the blood. On some nights, he'd even see that familiar red liquid trickling down his walls. He was used to seeing blood, of course, it didn't usually bother him but seeing Yuji soaked in it made him want to vomit. There was just something so pure about Itadori that made it look so out of place, so wrong for such an innocent face to be dirtied in what was supposed to be the substance of vitality yet Megumi found that, in Jujutsu society, it was more natural to see your colleagues’ blood cover their bodies rather than have it inside of them. Though, until Megumi was old enough to understand, Gojo tried his best to keep him and Tsumiki unaware of it all as much as he possibly could. He would wash off any bloody residue before coming home though there was still the faint smell of it which Fushiguro was now so accostumed to.
Of course, he would never admit this discomfort to anyone since it was standard procedure in this line of work to be so injured so frequently but yes, the sight of Itadori getting hurt was unbearable. Seeing even the slightest scratch or scrape on Yuji always had Megumi feeling personally responsible, even if he wasn't present. He had failed to protect him. Over and over again, he may have saved Yuji the first time they met but he simultaneously believed he was liable for dragging him into all this shit. Yuji Itadori was better off being clueless. Why did he have to be there that night? Why did he have that damn finger in his possession? God, and why the hell would he eat it? He should have just kept to himself, stayed in his own lane; he could have lived a good life. A much more peaceful one, at least. He deserved that.
Yuji never seemed to be phased by any of this, he made the best of every situation and Megumi couldn't help but admire that. He didn't know anyone who smiled and laughed half as much as that boy. At the same time though, that's what had worried him so much. How could he not have a care in the world when his life was on the line every minute of the day? It wasn't normal at all but sometimes he could tell when Yuji was just keeping up appearances. In fact, Megumi noticed that he seemed to be the only one who did.
He wondered if Yuji had ever been kept up at night as well, if they were the same in that sense. Maybe the both of them hid their true feelings in different ways; where Megumi would be impassive, Yuji would deflect.
I should check on him, came the sudden thought. I need to check-
There it was again. The image of Yuji’s heart at the mercy of Sukuna’s hand. The blood spurting out of his chest, the fleshy muscle still moving for a moment after it was torn out of its place; the vision was as clear as day, as if it were happening right in front of him all over again. The both of them stood there so helplessly the second he realised Yuji had retaken control of his body. Megumi got some last words in, of course. But they didn't matter, moments later, he was dead . What did his words matter to a dead man? If anything, he wished he had elaborated more. He might as well had let him know the real reason he saved him in the first place–he fell in love with him. It was selfish, of course, but true; from the moment he laid eyes on Yuji Itadori, he had been starstruck. There was just something about him, it was indescribable really, but he knew he was going to be special. He knew he'd be haunting his every waking thought from now on but not like this . He wanted Yuji to haunt his dreams in the way an innocent, silly crush would, so to speak. Not because his blood was on his hands shortly after he was so adamant on sparing his life despite meaning it could have meant death for so many others.
Yuji proved everyone wrong though, he was able to control his own body for the most part. Even when that meant switching out to save Megumi’s life; a returned favour of sorts. He was so distressed in the moment, more than he had ever been. He’d only known Yuji for about two weeks or so at that point but it felt like so much longer . He wished he had said so much more, emphasised the real reason he saved the boy; he loved him, from the moment he saw him, he loved him. Megumi had been disgusted with himself, with the way he twisted things to make it seem like his intentions were righteous when he made sure Gojo would spare him. Maybe it was better that he didn't tell him, then.
I need to see if he's okay, He told himself, snapping back to the present.
Realistically, there wasn't any active threat endangering Itadori on some random Tuesday, safely tucked in his bed. Especially with the extra barriers cast over Jujutsu High during the night hours.
He's fine, go back to sleep.
No he's not.
Megumi fought with his own alternating thoughts until he had enough and sort of angrily got out of bed. He had to clear his head somehow. Perhaps washing his face could help. Swearing under his breath, he made his way over to the sinks. As he reached for the faucet, he noticed something on his hands. It was red. He hadn't bothered to turn on the lights but his eyes had adjusted enough to see that it was clearly blood. He started to skittishly scrub it off, all his attention was directed toward the rubbing motion of his palms. But nothing was happening. The blood stayed dried up on them.
Megumi had no clue who's blood this was and if it was his own where was the hell was it coming from? He had not an open wound in sight, which was admittedly very rare. He suddenly became aware of his shaking hands as well. The shudder had then travelled throughout his entire body, his breath quickening again.
“ Megumi -” a voice hissed in the dark.
A hand lightly tapped his shoulder, sending a shiver down his spine. His eyes widening just to see a familiar face, an annoying one, yes, but he wasn't in any danger like he initially thought.
“Gojo. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
It really was quite the scare, he wasn't even aware that Gojo was sleeping in the dorms but he must've been too tired to commute back to his apartment tonight.
Gojo turned on the lights, rubbed his eyes, crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe, “I'd like to ask you the same thing. What's all this noise about?”
It wasn't that Megumi was especially loud or anything but Gojo and his Six Eyes’ hypersensitivity. It was that same little ability of his that had never allowed Megumi to sneak out when he was younger; he tried many times, hoping that he just once might be able to bypass it somehow. He was wrong every single one of those times, even when he got creative with his methods. Gojo was always on his ass, Megumi was never getting rid of him, no matter how he hard he tried. That was a sure fact.
The water was still running, “The- the blood. On- on my hands-”
Gojo took Megumi’s hand in his, and almost mockingly inspected it. Megumi felt stupid now, it was apparent that there was no blood on his hands, there was nothing there at all. It was all just another night terror of his. Megumi withdrew his hand quite aggressively and scoffed. He didn't need Gojo, of all people, to begin questioning him.
“Want to tell me what's going on..? You looked pretty distressed there. Did you really see blood-”
“Don't worry about it, okay?” He snapped back.
“...You mad at me or somethin’?”
“You're only noticing that now ?”
“No. But I'm asking now. This is the first time you've talked to me in three weeks, you know. To what do I owe the honour? ”
“You really have no idea?” He laughed in disbelief.
“Basic communication skills would do you some good, kid.” Gojo was just teasing him now.
“How could you hide the fact that Itadori was alive for so long?” He blurted out, his question came out louder than intended. “I mean, couldn't you tell we were all suffering from the loss? Couldn't you tell I was? How could you do that? God, what kind of sick fucking joke were you playing at?”
“ That's what you're upset about? Megumi, I had to-”
“Yeah, of course. I don't know why I asked. How dare I question the esteemed Gojo Satoru and his methods? He isn't required to answer to anyone , after all. Right.” Megumi felt the tears beginning to burn in his sockets.
“ Tsk . Megumi, you know I don't think that,” his voice softened. ”Especially not when it comes to you. You know that.”
“Whatever, man.” He stormed past the washroom, making sure to bump against Gojo’s shoulders on the way out.
Fushiguro could feel his eyes glued on him even with his back turned, Gojo's eyes could quite literally pierce through one's soul. Some even said he had a stare that could really kill; of course this was nothing but a fable that even Megumi used to believe. There were times he would contemplate the possibility, if anyone could do such a thing, it'd be Gojo, after all.
All he could do now was lay down again. He didn't want to get lost in his mind all over again, so he tried to shut it off.
Maybe I should try mediation , he thought.
Maybe I should check on Itadori.
Then, I don't want Gojo to start interrogating me again.
I need to check on him.
He walked over to the room next to his, opened the door and crouched down next to Itadori’s bed, all without making a sound. He peered over at Itadori. He was sleeping so peacefully, he wondered how. Megumi couldn't truly fathom what it must be like to be constantly tormented by Sukuna like he had been. He probably would end his own life before letting a curse take over his body like that.
Megumi stayed still and so so quiet as he focused on the rise and fall of Yuji’s chest; his breathing was steady. Soon enough, Megumi's own breathing had evened out too. He studied Itadori's movements for a good ten minutes, examining every little flinch. Megumi didn't take his eyes off him for even a moment, he just wanted to make sure of one thing though. He wanted to hear his beating heart. Obviously he knew, here the boy was; breathing properly, pulse perfectly normal, sleeping without a single disturbance. Alive . His heart had to be in check as well. Logically, of course it was. But, just in case-
“...Fushiguro?”
It was already too late, Itadori had caught him red-handed; with a hand on his heart. Megumi quickly shifted away but to his surprise, Itadori had grabbed his hand, keeping it in place. Megumi was no longer able to focus on Itadori's heartbeat since the sound of his own was deafening now. He felt a blush creep upon his face and thanked whoever was up there for the lack of light, he would have died on the spot if Yuji caught that.
To Megumi, it felt like the Earth had stopped spinning, that everything around them had frozen, that all the noise in the world had ceased and all that was left to hear were the two boys’ breathing. It stayed that way for a while, it seemed neither of them wanted to disturb the peace, or that Itadori had nothing to say. Megumi surely didn't but he felt that this transcended any words that could have been spoken in the moment.
Itadori turned to face Fushiguro and moonshine lit his face ever so slightly and he wondered if he knew how pretty he was. “Having trouble sleeping, Fushiguro?” He giggled quietly.
Megumi only nodded.
“You don't have to stay on the floor, y'know.”
It took a moment for Megumi to process what Itadori had just suggested and that caused his face to start heating up again.
“No, no I just came to check on you. I had, um,” he felt quite embarrassed admitting the next part. “A bad dream.”
“About?”
He stood up, Itadori's eyes followed and their hands stayed unmoved, “Nothing, I should go back to my own room already.”
“But what if you have those bad dreams again?”
“I'll be fine.” His hand now gently caressed his face with Itadori’s hand still holding his as he did so. It wasn't unusual for the two to be so casually intimate with each other, neither seemed to ever find it strange. It felt right.
“You can stay here for the night. I want you to ‘cause I don't want you to be alone tonight.”
He pretended to feel conflicted but truthfully, Megumi didn't need to be swayed. He wanted to stay the night as well. After around a minute of some playful banter, he crawled into the bed.
“So, are ya gonna tell me what you dreamt about?”
“You.”
“That doesn't sound like it'd be a bad dream.” Itadori snickered.
Megumi's eyes wandered elsewhere as he began explaining himself, “It's not uncommon, I dream about the same thing almost every night, about… you, dying . Just seeing your heart being ripped out over and over again. So-”
“So you came here to make sure it was still there?” He tilted his head in a curious manner.
“Mm-hm.”
His eyes had found Yuji’s again.
“Well.. well, I'm okay now, Fushiguro, see?” He smiled.
“I know,” Megumi whispered as he inched closer, his head now against Yuji’s chest, placing his ear right up to his heart. He still needed to hear it.
“I'm- I'm sorry.”
“Hm?”
“I don't know. I suppose I'm sorry for… everything? I shouldn't have... I dunno, just everything.”
“You have nothing to apologise for. I promise.”
“I should have never got you involved in this.”
“But it was both our faults,” he paused. “Besides, you saved me, Fushiguro. I don't know where I would've been without you.”
“You would have lived a normal life if it weren't for me.”
“No, I made the decision to get involved. You tried to stop me. It wasn't your fault.”
“I- I should have been able to handle myself that night. I shouldn't have allowed you to be there at all.”
“Well, I guess I'm glad you didn't and that I'm so stubborn ‘cause otherwise, I wouldn't have met you,” he added. “...Or Gojo Sensei, or Kugisaki, or any of the others… I’m so glad to have you all in my life, really. You did me a favour.”
“How are you always like this?”
“Ha, I'm not sure what you mean.”
“I don't know, just so optimistic?”
“But I really do just see things that way!”
“How did it feel-” Megumi stopped himself, realising it would be awful to ask him such a question.
“How did what feel…”
“Doesn't matter.”
“Why do you keep doing that?” Itadori laughed. “Learn to finish your sentences!”
“...Dying. How did dying feel?”
“Oh,” Itadori's tone had shifted immediately and Megumi knew he'd made a mistake. “Hmm. I guess I don't really remember. It hurt at first, but then I kinda felt nothing. But I guess now I'm prepared for next time. Kinda weird, do you think anyone else has ever had to die twice?”
“Dunno.”
There was another moment of silence.
“I'd die a hundred times if it meant saving you, though, Fushiguro.”
Megumi buried his face in Itadori's sweater, he felt the tears well up in his eyes because he knew he was dead serious, “ No , next time you have to let me die for you .”
“How ‘bout we die at the same time? Whoever does first doesn't matter, the other won't be far behind.”
“Okay.”
“Deal?”
Fushiguro had really been crying now, “Alright, deal.” He managed to mumble through his sobs.
Itadori had pulled him in closer, “Hey, don't cry…”
“I- I'm not-” he sputtered. “If you tell anyone, I swear I'll kill you.” Suddenly he was able to enunciate each word ever so flawlessly.
“My lips are sealed,” he paused. “But I always knew you were just a big softie, deep down. I totally called it.”
Megumi could just feel that obnoxious smirk on Itadori's face without even looking. He loved it though and couldn't help letting out a quiet giggle as he wrapped his arms around the lovable idiot. The idiot that he so stupidly fell in love with, to be more precise. The one who's arms felt like heaven at the moment.
Megumi felt his eyes getting heavy and as much as he wanted to succumb to the exhaustion, he knew that if the others caught him in this state tomorrow morning he would never hear the end of it. Especially from Gojo, (though Megumi couldn't be sure wasn't already eavesdropping) who'd already joked about him and Yuji making a cute couple once or twice. Of course, he rolled his eyes at every mention of such an outlandish claim but internally, Megumi found it comforting to know Gojo would approve of their hypothetical relationship. Fushiguro mentally put heavy emphasis on the hypothetical before getting ahead of himself.
“Itadori.”
“Yeah?” came his groggy response.
“I'm gonna go back now, ‘M fallin’ asleep.”
“I can carry you.”
“Yeah, okay,” Fushiguro laughed. “Itadori. Put me DOWN!”
“Nope.”
Fushiguro buried his face in his own hands until they arrived next door and Itadori gently placed him on his bed.
“M’lady.”
“You're so fucking dead,” he hissed right after punching him in the shoulder.
“Don't you remember our death pact, though? If you kill me, you're meeting the same fate. Haha.”
“Shut up before I take everything nice that I've ever said about you back.”
“C’monnnn… Stop being such a baby ,” Yuji giggled.
“I'm going to sleep.”
“Well, good night then, baby .”
It was stupid because Yuji didn't mean it like that but Fushiguro smiled to himself, liking how that sounded coming out of Itadori's mouth. It had him quietly yearning for a time when they could call eachother endearing terms like baby . Like normal couples did. That's all he wanted to be for Yuji; a normal boyfriend who did normal boyfriend things, one who didn't have to worry so much about the looming threat of certain death every night. Maybe there'd be a time where they could both be certain eachother’s hearts were still beating and wouldn't need the sound of them to fall asleep peacefully. But for now, maybe he liked this, he could get used to being in Itadori's arms, maybe they could make it a routine.
“Good night, Yuji,” he hummed.