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"Be careful."
"I will."
"I'm serious."
"I know, Fushiguro," Yuuji says patiently. Fushiguro squints down at him. In the setting sun, he's outlined by vivid orange light. Absently, Yuuji thinks he looks quite pretty. "If anything or anyone comes near us, I'll fight 'em off."
"And you'll call for me," Fushiguro says.
"And I'll call for you," Yuuji amends. Fushiguro's black dog trots up to him, plopping itself by his side. Yuuji's hand automatically comes up to rest on its head.
"Divine Dog will be here just in case," Fushiguro says. His eyes bore into Yuuji's. "Seriously, Itadori."
"I know. Come on, Fushiguro, we'll be like five metres apart," Yuuji jokes. He nudges at Fushiguro with his ankle. "Go on, get. Go find us some food."
He keeps his voice light, but deep down, he feels just as anxious as Fushiguro looks. It's ridiculous—they really will be barely five metres apart. Fushiguro's just going into a convenience store with Takaba to find food, and Yuuji and Kurusu will be waiting on the curb outside. It's just that, with the way the store is laid out, they won't be able to see each other while Fushiguro is inside.
It's stupid, but these days, Yuuji doesn't like it when Fushiguro's out of his sight. He watches Fushiguro and Takaba head into the store and drums his fingers on his knee to release some of his pent-up energy.
It's awkward sitting here with Kurusu. Yuuji's last words to her—I've never trusted any of you—hang conspicuously in the air between them. Being this suspicious is a new feeling for Yuuji, and he can't say he enjoys it. Fushiguro had even told him to apologise. Speaking of which...
"I'm sorry," Yuuji says. Might as well get it over and done with. "About how I blew up at you earlier, I mean. It was uncalled for."
"That's alright," Kurusu says, giving him a beatific smile. The Angel, notably, doesn't say anything. Yuuji fiddles with his fingers.
He's not really sorry, and he thinks Kurusu and the Angel both know that. I've never trusted any of you—it's the truth, and Yuuji meant it when he said it. After everything that's happened—getting separated from Fushiguro, finding him passed out and injured in the care of a stranger, realising that the Angel wants him dead, being ambushed by foreign soldiers...
It's a lot. And that's not even mentioning all the twisted-up feelings he's got about Kurusu slotting into the space between him and Fushiguro—the space that's meant to be for Kugisaki. Yuuji feels fiercely protective over that space, and seeing Kurusu walk beside Fushiguro had made him see all sorts of red.
He knows he's not being fair to her, but it's hard to stop. He wishes he wasn't alone with her right now, but Fushiguro had quietly pulled him aside and asked him to act as lookout. Takaba's clearly got a screw loose, and Kurusu has no combat skills apart from the Angel's power; it's for the best if either Fushiguro or Yuuji is with them at all times.
Yuuji still doesn't like it, though.
Divine Dog seems to pick up on his nerves. It pushes its massive snout into Yuuji's hand, searching for pets. Yuuji can't help but smile down at it, scratching the back of its neck.
"Where's the white one?"
Yuuji glances up sharply. Kurusu squeaks and slaps a hand over the Angel's mouth, which has manifested on her cheek. It looks bizarre. Is that what everyone else sees when Sukuna manifests on him?
"The white one?" Yuuji asks. The Angel's mouth forms on the back of Kurusu's hand.
"The white dog," they clarify, and Kurusu blushes a furious red. "There's meant to be one, right?"
Yuuji goes rigid. "How do you know that?" he demands, his fingers curling into fists. He glances into the convenience store, wondering if he should call for Fushiguro. The white dog was destroyed months ago at the detention centre. If the Angel knows about it, then—
"Hana saw it, once," the Angel says, sounding bored. "A long time ago. It's why she—"
"Shut up!" Kurusu hisses. The Angel closes their mouth.
Yuuji eyes her suspiciously, but she looks embarrassed, not scared. "I'm so sorry," she says. "I...met Fushiguro-kun, years ago. I don't know if he remembers me. His white dog saved my life."
Ah. That sounds like Fushiguro. Yuuji relaxes slowly, though he doesn't take his eyes off her.
"There was a white dog," he says. "It got destroyed a few months ago." Beneath his hand, the black dog whines softly. Yuuji pets it absently. "It doesn't exist anymore."
"Ah," Kurusu says quietly, and the conversation ends there. They sit in tense silence, broken only by the happy boofs of Divine Dog as Yuuji pets it the way it likes.
Kurusu's eyes follow the motion of his hands, but she doesn't try to reach out and pet the dog herself. Yuuji feels an absurd sense of relief for that.
Soon enough, the convenience store's door slides open. Yuuji sits up and waves as Fushiguro and Takaba come out. They've both got food—not much, but it'll do.
"We grabbed a feast!" Takaba shouts.
"A few frozen meals," Fushiguro corrects, looking exhausted. Yuuji should make sure he gets more sleep. "And some dried fruits and snacks, too. Was everything alright out here?"
"Didn't see a soul," Yuuji says cheerfully. Fushiguro narrows his eyes at him, like he knows that Yuuji's been sitting here in uncomfortable silence with Kurusu for the last ten minutes.
"Alright," he finally says. "By the way, Itadori. Here."
He holds out a plastic bottle. It's a familiar orange colour, and Yuuji blinks.
"Peach iced tea?" He reaches out to take the bottle, his fingers brushing against Fushiguro's. It's still cold.
Fushiguro looks away. "You always used to get it at the vending machines in school," he says, hunching up his shoulders. "I didn't remember the brand, so I just picked any peach tea. Sorry."
"What—no, Fushiguro, this is..." Yuuji's words fail him. He stares down at the bottle. For some reason, he feels like there's something swelling up the back of his throat. "This is...really thoughtful, Fushiguro. Thank you."
Fushiguro dips his head in acknowledgment. It might be a trick of the light, but his cheeks look like they're pink. Something eases in Yuuji's chest.
He sticks out his hand. "Help me up?"
"I'm holding groceries."
"I can take them. After you help me up."
"You're so annoying," Fushiguro grumbles, but he still shifts all his stuff to one arm so that he can grab Yuuji's hand with the other and yank him upright. His fingers are warm on Yuuji's skin, familiar and reliable, and—
Abruptly, Yuuji thinks: I don't want to let go.
When Fushiguro loosens his grip, Yuuji has the briefest moment where he wants to protest. He almost says it: please, don't let go. He wants to keep holding Fushiguro's hand. But that's stupid, because they have stuff to carry, so Yuuji just swallows back his words and accepts the food that Fushiguro hands over. It's mostly frozen onigiri.
"Is this stuff still safe to eat?" he asks, so that he can distract himself from the sudden ache in his chest as Fushiguro steps away.
Fushiguro shrugs. "Most of it's not expired yet."
"Most?" Yuuji says. "Most?"
"Beggars can't be choosers."
"We're not beggars!"
"You go find us food, then," Fushiguro says, turning away. He glances over at where Kurusu still sits on the curb, watching them. "You coming, Kurusu?"
"I—yes," Kurusu stammers, standing up. She glances at Divine Dog, still lingering by Yuuji's side, then moves to follow Fushiguro.
They eat dinner in the hotel room that they've been using as a base. It's a rare night of peace: they don't run into any other players or foreign soldiers. Yuuji drinks the iced tea that Fushiguro got for him and feels like it's soothing something inside him. Everyone else has plain water.
Later that night, as Takaba snores on the couch and Kurusu curls up on the armchair—by silent agreement, they've all decided that Fushiguro, who's technically still injured, gets the bed—Yuuji sits down to talk to him.
"Fushiguro," he whispers, tapping Fushiguro's arm. "Hey."
"What?" Fushiguro mutters groggily. He shifts, pushing himself up onto his elbow. "Why're you awake?"
"Needed to talk to you. About, you know. Him."
Yuuji taps the scar under his right eye to make sure Fushiguro knows that he's talking about Sukuna. Fushiguro's expression clears, and he glances warily at the armchair. Kurusu is sleeping, but the Angel might still be awake and listening; they have to talk in code.
"Is he an issue?" Fushiguro asks lowly. Yuuji shakes his head.
"Not in the...Shibuya way," he says. "But listen, Fushiguro. After we unseal Gojo-sensei, you know what will happen to me, right?"
It's dark, so Yuuji doesn't have much light to see Fushiguro's face by. It's really just the moon and whatever streetlights are still on. But he still manages to make out how Fushiguro's face twists.
"It won't happen," Fushiguro says firmly. Yuuji's heart sinks—he was afraid of this.
"Fushiguro," he sighs. "It's easiest for everyone if I—"
Fushiguro's hand shoots out and grabs Yuuji's collar. He drags Yuuji forward until he lands on the bed with a soft oof.
"It won't happen," Fushiguro says. They're so close that Yuuji can feel Fushiguro's breath on his face. "I won't let you die, Itadori."
But you'll have to, Yuuji thinks, though he doesn't say it aloud. Fushiguro's brow is furrowed and his lips are pressed together. He looks entirely serious. He looks like he's dead-set on saving Yuuji's life.
There's that weird swelling feeling again, like there's something stuck in Yuuji's throat. He swallows and reaches up to rub absently at his chest.
"Okay," he says quietly. "We'll deal with that later, then."
"We'll deal with it later," Fushiguro agrees. Then he frowns. "Wait. Where are you sleeping?"
Yuuji rubs at the nape of his neck. "Uh," he says. "Me and Takaba have kind of just been trading off the couch. I was gonna sleep on the floor."
"On the floor?"
"It's a comfy floor!" Yuuji defends.
"You're such a moron," Fushiguro mutters. He scoots back a bit, then flips up the covers. "Just sleep in the bed, Itadori. There's enough space."
Yuuji's heart stutters in his chest. "Fushiguro, that's really not—"
"Oh, shut up," Fushiguro snaps. "I'm sick of you giving things up for everyone else. Just take the bed."
Yuuji stares at him. Fushiguro glares back. Clearly, he's not joking.
Slowly, Yuuji climbs into the bed. His knee knocks against Fushiguro's, but Fushiguro doesn't move back. He waits until Yuuji's fully in the bed before throwing the cover on top of him.
"And you'd better stay," he hisses. Yuuji can only nod, wide-eyed. Fushiguro gives him one last threatening glare before he turns over, leaving his back facing Yuuji.
It takes Yuuji a while to relax enough to sleep. By then, Fushiguro's breathing has already evened out. He doesn't snore, not exactly, but he makes these little whooshing sounds through his nose that are absolutely adorable. Yuuji turns his face into his pillow to hide his smile, even though no one can see him.
If he died right now, he would be happy.
The thought comes out of nowhere, and it makes Yuuji pause. The thought of dying is nothing new—but he hasn't felt this content about it before. He's never felt like he could close his eyes and die and be happy about it. Even when he died at the detention centre to save Fushiguro's life, he'd still died wishing that he could've lived longer.
It's because of Fushiguro, he thinks. It's because Fushiguro's right here in front of him, relatively unharmed. It's because he got to do what Fushiguro asked of him—he lent his strength, and they'll be able to save Tsumiki, and Fushiguro can live a long and happy life with his sister. It's because Fushiguro thought of him today and got him that iced tea.
If Yuuji knows that Fushiguro is living well, then he can die without regrets. The thought sticks in his mind like a burr.
The realisation is somehow both slow and sudden. Fushiguro shifts next to him, and their knees knock again; Yuuji's focus narrows to that one point of contact like a pigeon flying home.
Oh, Yuuji thinks, and it's the simplest thing in the world. I think this is love.
It's funny, how easily the realisation slots into his life. He accepts it almost immediately, because doesn't everything make sense now? The warmth in his chest when Fushiguro looks at him. The desire to have Fushiguro's eyes on him. The restless urge he has to make sure Fushiguro is safe at all times. It all fits, like puzzle pieces being slid just slightly into place.
He stares at the back of Fushiguro's spiky head and lets the realisation diffuse through his body. He feels—looser, somehow. Freer. Now he doesn't have to wonder what it means when his heart does funny things around Fushiguro. Now he can just look at Fushiguro and think: I love you. That explains everything.
For a tiny moment—a fraction of a second—he wonders if he should tell Fushiguro. He dismisses the idea as quickly as it comes. It would be stupid to try and change anything about their relationship now, right? With Yuuji's imminent death and all?
No, he won't tell Fushiguro. In the grand scheme of things, this realisation doesn't change anything at all. But, here in the dark of a ruined Tokyo, Yuuji curls a little closer to his best friend and thinks: I love you. I love you. I love you.
He considers writing a letter.
That's what the people in movies do, right? They write down all their feelings in a letter to be passed on after their death. Yuuji thinks about it—even goes searching through the hotel room for a pad of paper and a pen—but, in the end, he hesitates.
Would it be better to tell the truth, or better to let Fushiguro remember him as they are now? What if Fushiguro doesn't feel the same? Would it make him look back on their memories together in an awkward light? And if Fushiguro does feel the same, then wouldn't that be even worse?
Yuuji imagines it—Fushiguro, reading a confession that he can't respond to—and decides against it. He wants Fushiguro to remember him fondly. He'll try to make these last few days together good. He'll look for ginger candies in the convenience stores. He'll steer Fushiguro away from danger. He'll take care of any curses or players or soldiers that come their way. He'll bear the stain of everything that happens here, so that when he's gone, Fushiguro can be left with a clean slate.
So Yuuji doesn't write a letter. He holds his newly-realised feelings like a lozenge beneath his tongue. He keeps his eyes on Fushiguro, so that he doesn't miss a single moment. When the Angel kills him, he wants to make sure that he's thinking of this: Fushiguro in the sun, alive and well.
With everyone's points combined, their plan to withdraw from the Culling Game will be finished in a matter of days. They'll save Tsumiki and all the other unwilling players, and they'll get the Angel to unseal Gojo, and then...
Then it'll be curtains for him. Yuuji finds a strange half-peace in that. He's known, ever since he entered the jujutsu world, that he was supposed to die. It might as well be now, before something like Shibuya can happen again. It's almost perfect, actually, that the one thing the Angel asks for is Sukuna's death. Yuuji is more than happy to let that happen, and if they get Gojo's unsealing out of it, then it's all the better.
He just wishes it wouldn't hurt Fushiguro. But, in the end, that can't be helped.
Yuuji watches out of the corner of his eye as Fushiguro and Maki discuss the last few technicalities of the plan to get Tsumiki out of the game. They have the points. They have the new rule. They have Ijichi, willing to swap in for Tsumiki as a player. Soon, Tsumiki will be safe.
Maki leaves soon after, going to escort Tsumiki and Ijichi to the colony. Fushiguro paces around next to the colony barrier. He keeps glancing up at the sky like he expects Tsumiki to come falling down at any moment.
"Hey," Yuuji says. I love you, he means. "I can go patrol around the area, if you want? Make sure there's no other players nearby?"
Fushiguro nods jerkily. "Please," he says. Yuuji hesitates for a moment. He doesn't know what he wants to do—a hug? Another handhold? In the end, he settles for a quick squeeze of Fushiguro's shoulder before he darts off. Fushiguro, lost in thought as he is, barely seems to notice.
Yuuji circles around the area of the spawn points that he's aware of. He finds no other players or soldiers, though he does happen across a few people who were obviously killed by curses. He digs makeshift graves for them. It's a shoddy job, but it's all he can do. Above his head, he can see Kurusu hovering, waiting to catch Tsumiki if she spawns in the sky like Yuuji did.
In the end, all that caution is unnecessary. Tsumiki steps through the barrier like it's nothing more than a normal door—one second the air is empty, and then she's there, stumbling a little over the barrier, right in front of them.
"Megumi!" she says, surprised. Yuuji lets out a relieved huff of a laugh.
"Is that her?" he asks, and Fushiguro gives a little nod. His eyes are fixed on his sister, clearly relieved at the proof of seeing her unharmed. "Ha. Her transfer hit the bull's-eye."
Tsumiki laughs lightly, reaching up to rub sheepishly at her nape. "Thank goodness. That startled me!"
Yuuji nudges Fushiguro. "Tsumiki-nee-chan sure is lucky," he says. He's aiming for reassuring, but Fushiguro just agrees distantly, his eyes still dark and far-away.
Still worried, then. He probably won't relax until Tsumiki is safely out of the game. Yuuji shrugs and steps forward, bowing to Tsumiki.
"I'm Itadori," he says, offering her a smile.
Tsumiki bows back. She really looks nothing like Fushiguro—her hair's lighter, and their eyes are totally different. "Nice to meet you," she says. "Thank you for taking care of Megumi."
Yuuji has to chuckle at that. "No, I'm the one being taken care of," he says, glancing sideways at Fushiguro. Fushiguro flushes a bit and looks away. Yuuji bites back a smile. I love you, he thinks again. He can't stop thinking it; it's like he has to say it to himself as many times as he can before he dies. Thank you. You saved me. I love you.
Kurusu flutters down from the sky, so Yuuji introduces her. Tsumiki gives her a little wave. Fushiguro clears his throat, blinking a few times like he's reminding himself of what to do. Yuuji wants to hold his hand again, but that would be stupid right now, so he doesn't.
"Let's wrap this up quickly," Fushiguro says authoritatively. "Kogane."
Fushiguro's Kogane poofs into existence next to him. Yuuji has to suppress a giggle. "He acts all cool in front of his family," he whispers to Kurusu. "Must be his rebellious phase."
"So cute," Kurusu agrees. Megumi shoots them both a glare, and Yuuji laughs harder.
He can't help but feel a little giddy. This is it: they're almost at the end. Just a bit more, and then Fushiguro will be okay. The Angel will kill Yuuji, and Gojo will be unsealed, and then everything will be fine. As Fushiguro transfers his points to Tsumiki and explains the plan to her, Yuuji can't help but stare at him.
At the start of everything, Fushiguro was the one who saved him. Fushiguro was the one who gave him a role and a purpose—Fushiguro was the one who gave him far more than he deserved. Now, Yuuji can finally repay him. Now, at last, Yuuji can die knowing that he saved someone.
I love you, he thinks again. His heart settles in his chest, finally content. Fushiguro Megumi, I love you.
Fushiguro nods at Tsumiki, gesturing for her to go ahead, and Yuuji snaps back to attention. Tsumiki looks at her own Kogane, which displays her name and points, and takes a deep breath.
"Kogane," Tsumiki says, "add a rule."
For a second, it feels like the world stops spinning.
Huh?
Tsumiki's still speaking, but her voice is drowned out by the sudden static in Yuuji's brain. The Kogane cheerfully announces the new rule to enter and exit colonies, and Yuuji watches as Tsumiki's number of points abruptly plummets to zero.
Those points were equal to at least twenty lives. Twenty people dead so that Tsumiki could escape—that was the plan, that was the plan, so why—?
"Who are you?!" Fushiguro demands. He sounds—he sounds terrified. He's staring at Tsumiki, his hands spasming at his sides.
Tsumiki smiles. It's just this side of too far. "Who do you think?" she asks, and the smile stretches wider, showing all her teeth. "I'm your big sister, Fushiguro Megumi!"
Something's wrong. Something's really fucking wrong.
"Fushiguro, what's going on?" Yuuji asks urgently, but Fushiguro doesn't answer. He's frozen, just like he froze back when they were dealing with that Yasohachi Bridge curse. He's staring at Tsumiki, and the look on his face is...
"Fushiguro!" Yuuji barks. He's never seen Fushiguro look like that, not even in his worst moments. He never wants to see it again. Fushiguro doesn't give any indication that he's heard him.
"I am Yorozu," Tsumiki announces, flexing her fingers. Yuuji instinctively crouches into a defensive stance. "Maybe the old guys still remember me."
Yorozu. Yorozu. Yorozu, not Tsumiki. Not Tsumiki, never Tsumiki, all this time it's been—
"Why?" Fushiguro chokes out. He sounds like someone's taken his voice and dragged it across glass. "This whole time—"
Tsumiki—Yorozu sighs. "Weren't you the ones who told me about it?" she says, tilting her head. "The Culling Game and your plan to withdraw from it. If I'm offered a hundred points for free, of course I'll take them."
Yuuji's brain is like one long record scratch. It's too much to process. A hundred points—they gave her a hundred points, just like that. Twenty lives, just like that.
Yorozu stretches out her arms. "My first battle in a thousand years," she murmurs. "I want to choose the place and opponent. And, of course—" Her eyes slide over to Yuuji. "—the first battle ought to be Sukuna."
Yuuji feels pure ice shoot down his spine.
No. Please, no, he can't fight her. He can't fight her—that would kill Fushiguro. It would kill him. Yuuji stares at her, praying that she doesn't attack him right now, but—
But Yorozu only smiles. With an awful ripping sound, a set of translucent insect wings sprouts from her back. Faster than Yuuji can react, she pushes off the ground and darts into the sky.
"I'll be waiting, okay?" she calls, and that—
That, of all things, is what gets Yuuji to move.
His feet are pushing off the ground before he can think about it. "Let's chase her!" Kurusu shouts, and Yuuji grunts back an agreement. They race after Yorozu side-by-side. Fushiguro's not with them, but...well, of course he wouldn't be.
Sorry, Fushiguro, Yuuji thinks. His heart sits heavy in his chest. God, he hopes that Tsumiki can still be saved. Please, please—didn't the Angel say that they could do it? Even if it's risky, could they still try? If Tsumiki's dead, then Fushiguro...Fushiguro will...
Yuuji will save her, for the sake of saving Fushiguro. He'll do it. He will. He locks his eyes onto Yorozu and wills the anger to burn through his body, like a fire in his stomach. Let it fuel him. Let it push him like it did when he first met Mahito.
Yuuji will kill Yorozu. On behalf of Fushiguro, he'll kill her. He'll rip her from Tsumiki's body. He doesn't care what it takes. He'll get Tsumiki back for Fushiguro.
He glances around for a building that he can jump off of. If he can get to her, if he can capture her, then maybe the Angel can—
"Enchain."
Yuuji's vision goes dark.
He's never been thrown out of his body before. Every time Sukuna's taken over, it's because Yuuji either let him or couldn't stop him. It's never been like this—never like being plunged into the Arctic ocean, like running off the edge of a cliff. Yuuji gasps, flailing around in the sudden nothingness. It's a chasm, an abyss, like the Mariana Trench. He's become something worse than nothing.
He'll lose awareness soon. He's not sure how he knows this, but he does. Sukuna's taken over, and Yuuji's been pushed aside, and Sukuna—Sukuna—
Fushiguro Megumi, Sukuna murmurs. He's not speaking aloud—it must be an echo of his thoughts, reverberating in Yuuji's sinking soul. There you are.
No. No, god, fuck, no, this is exactly what Yuuji was scared of—this is why he hadn't wanted to be near Fushiguro. This is why. This is why. Sukuna wants to do something terrible to the boy he—
To the boy Yuuji loves.
Yuuji wants to yell. He wants to cry. He wants to claw Sukuna's eyes out so he can never look at Fushiguro again. Don't touch him! he screams, but there's nowhere for his voice to go, and it fades into nothing. What do you want, what do you want, leave him ALONE—
Sukuna brushes him aside like a fly. Quickly and quietly, the abyss swallows Yuuji up.
He doesn't know what happens after that.