Work Text:
The jolt is akin to dreaming of falling, only to keep falling rather than waking up. Megumi feels the ground rush up to meet him, but he never feels the impact. He falls into darkness until it doesn’t feel like falling anymore.
Megumi opens his eyes onto a vast, dark plane. He feels something solid below his feet. A lighted path stretches into infinity behind and in front of him. And standing in the path a few meters away from him is none other than the King of Curses.
Well…former King of Curses, perhaps. Who’s to say who claims that title now that Sukuna’s been defeated?
Considering the nightmare the sorcerer standing before him has put him through in the past few months, Megumi should be afraid. Or angry, or upset. But there’s something so calming about the nothingness around him. And he knows somehow he has nothing to fear from Sukuna anymore.
“Where are we?” Megumi asks.
“Can’t you tell?” Sukuna gestures at the space around them. “We’re at a crossroads. This must be a place souls pass through on their way through the cycle.”
“Does that mean I’m dead?” Megumi feels a tightness in his chest at the finality of it.
It’ll be so lonely without you…
“I can’t say for sure. But I know I’m not dead quite yet.” Sukuna surveys his surroundings, a haughty air still about him despite his defeat. “I see two paths before me: one where I take the brat up on his offer, preserving my life inside his body.”
Megumi tenses. He’d been so desperate to stop Itadori from making that trade, desperate to give his own life to save Itadori’s future.
Or maybe just desperate for his life to end.
“And the other path?”
Sukuna shrugs. “I’ve never died before. Who can say where that leads.”
“So if I’m here too, I probably have a similar choice to make: go back and live…or move on.”
“Well, your fate has no bearing on me now, so I don’t care one way or the other. Although…” Sukuna gives Megumi a sly smile. “I guess I am a little curious what you’ll choose. You’ve always fascinated me, Fushiguro Megumi.”
Megumi had assumed that “fascination” was limited to his body’s potential as a vessel. As a weapon. But all that’s over now, and Sukuna is still interested in him. So Megumi humors him.
“Well, if I move on…there’s a possibility I’ll see them again.” He can almost see their faces shining in the distant darkness. “I can try to make amends for what I did.”
“I suppose. Of course, there’s also the possibility that nothing at all is waiting for you down that path.”
Sukuna’s grin is taunting. And yet…
“Are you trying to encourage me to live?”
“Like I said, I’m just curious what you’ll choose. This may be the last time we’ll ever meet.”
Megumi looks over his shoulder at the other path. “If I’m being honest, I don’t know for sure what’s waiting for me back there either.”
Sukuna hums. “I hadn’t thought about it that way. But I guess you’re right. No one knows what the future holds, in life or in death.”
“Is that why you were so desperate to escape death? You were afraid of the unknown?”
Sukuna laughs, but there’s something empty about it. “I wasn’t afraid of death—I simply enjoyed living too much to give it up. But now I’m ready. How ironic that would be, if the one who refused to die chose death at the same time that the one who longed for death chose life? It’s fitting in a way. Symmetrical.”
Megumi can’t shake the feeling that Sukuna wants him to live. He’s not sure how he feels about that. Megumi should resent Sukuna for forcing himself inside his body and using it as a weapon against the people he loves. At the same time, Megumi knew the risks when he chose to stay by Itadori’s side. Losing everything you hold dear, sometimes by your own hand, is just part of being a sorcerer. That’s why he’s never been afraid of death. Who wouldn’t want a life like he’s had to finally be over?
It occurs to him then that Sukuna was once a sorcerer too—although “curse user” would be the more accurate term. He wonders, for the first time, what kind of person could possibly enjoy that life, so much that they fight to preserve it for a thousand years?
And why has he changed his mind now?
“Can I ask you something?”
“I don’t see why not,” Sukuna says nonchalantly. “I’m not in any hurry to see what’s waiting for me down there.”
“Why me?”
Sukuna cocks his head to the side. There’s no malice in his face, only a calm interest. It should be unnerving. Yet Megumi only feels the calm peace of this emptiness.
“Why did I choose you as my vessel, you mean?”
“It wasn’t just my technique, was it? There are plenty of other sorcerers who are stronger than me.”
“What, do you want me to tell you that you’re special? That I saw your potential even when you were trembling at the thought of taking me on in combat?” Sukuna grins. “Or are you just afraid that I’ll say it’s because I knew you were weak enough to succumb to me?” The taunt is back in his voice, but it’s not malicious. It’s almost…playful. Like this has all been some great game to him. Maybe he and Kenjaku have that in common.
“I want to know the truth. If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. I just thought I’d ask. Like you said, we probably won’t ever see each other again.”
There really is no reason for him to ask anything of Sukuna. They ought to go their separate ways and be done with it. And yet…here is a powerful, ancient being who has studied every moment of Megumi’s memories, down to bits of trivia about plants and animals from the books he’s read. It’s possible that Sukuna knows Megumi better than Megumi knows himself. Like some kind of enchanted mirror in a fairy tale, the possibility of seeing himself through Sukuna’s eyes is too tempting for Megumi to resist.
That is, if Sukuna decides to cooperate.
There’s an almost thoughtful expression on Sukuna’s curse-twisted face(s). “I didn’t realize this at the time, but I suppose you were a good candidate for a vessel because you are more different from me than any other person I’ve met.”
Megumi balks at that. “More different than Itadori?”
“The brat admitted it himself: we’re the same. We both live according to our nature, following the only path we know how. Our paths may be different, but we’re identical in our single-mindedness. That is why he ultimately defeated me.”
“And you’re saying I’m different from that?”
Sukuna nods. “Rather than following a path towards a predetermined goal, you let others determine your path. ‘Stay with your sister,’ ‘Become as strong as Gojo Satoru,’ ‘Save Itadori Yuuji…’ I knew it would be easy to use the people you love to control you.” Sukuna smiles to himself. “It never occurred to me that the power of those bonds would give you the strength to resist me. And here I thought I understood love, despite seeing no value in it.”
So the power of friendship saved the day. Itadori will love that.
Megumi remembers something. “So you were lying back then, weren’t you? About living according to your nature, doing as you pleased and being satisfied with that?”
“Was I?” Sukuna asks, amused.
“I think the truth is that you wanted connection with others,” Megumi says. “You said you were a cursed, unwanted wretch, and the world hated you for it. You wanted recognition, and when that didn’t come, you settled for revenge. So you tried to make everyone else suffer the way you suffered.”
“What’s the difference? I lived the only way I knew how. There was no other path for me.”
Sukuna lowers his head. His deep, resonant voice grows pensive.
“Actually…no. I had different paths I could have chosen. Two, to be precise.”
Now Megumi can see the pathways stretching out before Sukuna, in different directions from his own. At each stands a figure: a young woman on one side, a child on the other.
“But in the end,” Sukuna says darkly, “I couldn’t help spitting up the curses in my gut, for fear my own curse would immolate me.”
Sukuna goes to where the child is standing and places a gentle hand on their shoulder.
“If I do get another chance…perhaps it would be nice to choose a different path.”
Megumi wonders if Itadori’s words got through to him after all. “It sounds like you’ve gotten soft.”
“Obviously,” Sukuna says. “I lost, after all.” He walks off with the child, hand in hand, towards the light waiting beyond.
Megumi watches the two figures grow smaller until they fade away. His own paths, by contrast, have grown clearer. At one end, he can see Tsumiki and Gojo waiting for him, along with a man and a woman who feel familiar to him, though he’s sure he’s never seen them before. Although maybe the man—
It doesn’t matter. If he takes even a second to think about what any of his loved ones—living or dead—would want for him, the answer is obvious. Perhaps he’ll never get to apologize to Tsumiki or Gojo for cutting their lives short. But he can still make amends, by doing the good deeds they never got a chance to. And there’s only one way he’ll be able to do that. He is the type of person who lives for others, after all.
Megumi can’t be sure, but he thinks he sees Tsumiki’s smile brighten when he turns away from her.
“Shh, shh, he’s waking up!”
Megumi hears the rustling of cardboard like a moving box being closed up. The first thing to meet his eyes is the ceiling in what he recognizes to be Gojo’s on-campus residence. The second is Itadori standing over him, grinning widely. The third is a large box sitting in front of the bed he’s in. A lock of amber-bleached hair shows through the flaps.
“Is that…?”
“It’s your Christmas present!” Itadori announces, arms outstretched towards the box like it’s the prize on a game show and not their classmate playing a dumb joke.
Kugisaki apparently missed her cue, because Itadori clears his throat loudly.
“Shit, now?” comes the muffled voice from inside the box. Kugisaki bursts out of the top—less gracefully than she probably meant to—with a joyous, “OPP!”
Megumi glares at Itadori.
“Oh come on, at least act surprised!”
“Yeah! The hottest girl in your class is alive after all this time—you should both be crying tears of joy!”
“Hey, I cried when I found out! You just weren’t there.”
Megumi speaks up. His voice is hoarse from disuse—or is it from overuse? “I was inside Sukuna’s soul when I found out, so it’s not really a surprise now.” He clears his throat. “In any case, I am glad you’re okay.”
“Come to think of it,” Itadori says, “how are you doing?”
“Yeah, I heard about your sister. And…Gojo-sensei.”
Megumi takes a sip from the glass of water Itadori hands him. “I’m not sure, to be honest. My head is still a little fuzzy—” Probably an effect from Gojo’s domain, he realizes. “I guess…none of it feels real yet.”
His conversation with Sukuna…had that been real?
Does it matter whether it was real or not?
He looks up at Kugisaki and Itadori, both staring at him expectantly. Kugisaki leans a little too far out of her box and falls on her face. Itadori bursts out laughing, which she snaps at him for.
Megumi smiles despite the grief weighing inside him. This is real. This is what matters. His classmates—his friends, idiots that they are, who put together a stupid prank just to make him smile. This is worth choosing, no matter what was waiting for him on the other side. No wonder Tsumiki was so happy to see him turn away from her. She knew he still had something to live for.
“Hey,” Itadori says, snapping Megumi out of his thoughts. His voice is strained with emotion but he’s still smiling. “Welcome back.”
Megumi smiles back at him. “It’s good to be back.”