Chapter Text
The old classroom had become a sanctuary of some kind. As its dusty windows filtered the outside world into these soft, muted shades, and what was once a bright bulletin board now held nothing but faded, forgotten notices.
It was here Megumi Fushiguro and Yuji Itadori found themselves sitting side by side, each lost in their own turmoil. Yuji fixed blankly ahead at the empty desk in front of him, fingers wandering over its familiar grains. The silence was oppressive, heavy with the weight of a month’s accumulated sorrows—the deaths of Kugisaki and Nanami, the countless lives lost, destruction which overwhelmed everything else; disaster piled on other disasters until even silence became unbearable. Topped with the overwhelming feeling of helplessness.
“Megumi” Yuji spoke in a voice as far from steady as could go without breaking the silence altogether. “Do you ever think…about what we could have done differently?”
Megumi’s jaw tightened, staring at the floor attempting to mask his emotions. “All the time..:
Silence filled the room once again as the words hung in the air. A painful truth neither of them wanted to confront. Megumi was haunted by the memories of Sukuna’s presence within Yuji. Every day reliving the terror of watching Yuji’s body used as a vessel for chaos. He still feels that exact moment in which the coldness of Sukuna’s laughter taunts him with the knowledge of what he had just done.
Yuji’s voice cracked, “You know… I keep seeing it, that look you had when you saw me…”
Megumi’s breath hitched. Turning to Yuji with a conflicting expression. “Every time I close my eyes, I see it too.” Eyes are now shifting everywhere but Yuji.
The room fell back into silence, the air between them charged with unspoken pain. Megumi’s fist clenched at his sides. He was trying to be strong, to hold it together. However, a physical manifestation of his internal struggles was cracking through.
Yuji shifted, drawing closer to Megumi. “I don’t know how to—”
“Don’t,” Megumi cut him off sharply. “Don’t try to fix this. Nothing can fix it.”
Yuji flinched, but he didn’t back down; now staring intensely at Megumi. “I’m not trying to fix anything. I just want—”
“Want what?” Megumi snapped, eyes flashing with anger and frustration. “To make things better? Bring everyone back?”
Yuji’s eyes, although pained, remained determined. “No. I want to understand how you’re feeling. I want to be there for you, even—even if I don’t know how to be.”
Megumi now looked away, unable to meet Yuji’s earnest gaze. “Yuji, I don’t want nor need your pity.”
“It’s not a pity,” Yuji sighed. “It’s—”
“love?” Megumi’s voice filled with bitterness. “You think that’s going to solve all of this?”
Yuji’s face softened, his gaze never once leaving Megumi’s. “I think it’s worth a shot.”