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Megumi jolts awake by the sound of screaming.
And it's so loud, too loud; it's stabbing his brain and bleeding his ears and
and he wants to tell them to shut up, shut up,
Shut up!
But his throat is filled with thorns and his tongue has turned to dust and the drum in his skull keeps thrashing around and it hurts. It hurts .
So he pulls at his hair and covers his ears and claws at the vines that tangle in his esophagus and he realizes
oh-
it's him.
and oh,
there's no sound at all.
-
Everyone decides to throw a party for the weekend. A ludicrous congrats we didn't die hooray shabang. But it's raining so they stay inside and Okkotsu lights the fireplace instead.
And there's awkward eye contact and fingers to lips and delicious food that melts in Megumi's mouth and whispers behind hands and apologetic waves and the fire is so, so warm.
Then Itadori suggests video games and gambles away the last big juicy steak to the winner and the room is filled with more laughter than mumbles. Leave it to Itadori. He always knows how to set a better mood even when his own is also six feet under.
Megumi loses against Maki because no one can be Maki when it comes to combat, or puzzles, or sports, or now videogames, except, maybe Inumaki, who uses consoles better than chopsticks.
Except.
Inumaki....
Except.......
Well, not anymore.
Maki is up against Itadori and maybe there is a new new champion in the room and it makes sense because before Jujutsu Tech, Itadori was a normal kid. Normal. Got to grow up with movies and videos games and pointless hangouts with friends. No childhood curses, no battles, no blood on your hands surrounded by the carcassesofyourcomrades —
Itadori beats Maki, three to five ("Rematch!" She growls, once, twice-), the neon GAME OVER flashing across the screen with Maki's avatar flat on the ground and Itadori's jumping with victory. An insignificant win with significant consequences.
"Hah! I win!" Itadori hollers, eyes wide, jabbing a finger at Maki who just so happens to sit almost directly in front of Megumi. A puffed up chest, top and bottom row of sharp teeth, a maniacal laughter. "You'll never beat me!"
And something in Megumi shrinks.
Then the lights go out.
It's odd though, because no one made a noise. Just accepted the power outage and remained perfectly calm. Maybe it's because the dark is not scary to those who face death every waking moment of their days. Too familiar. Almost comforting.
But Megumi–
Megumi can't feel his limbs. Is he moving? He thinks he is. He can't really tell with the lights off. He waves his arms and touches nothing and everyone probably went to go fix the lights, so Megumi will just wait. His head is spinning a little anyway. Direction becomes meaningless.
Something's thumping around and it's rather annoying, someone must be fiddling with the electric box and hitting all the wrong switches. They're Jujutsu sorcerers, not electricians.
How long has it been? Megumi's getting cold, really cold. It must have switched off the heater too. Now he's cold and the thumping won't stop and he would get up to help if his legs would move but–
"-ro?"
"Hey!"
"Fushiguro?"
The lights flip back on and Megumi releases a gasp he didn't know he was holding and presses his palm against the erratic fluttering of his chest. Why?
Everyone stares at him like a wild animal behind a glass cage. Afraid to get close. Afraid to touch.
Suffocating.
Itadori and Kugisaki front and center. Eyes big, brows up, mouths down.
Megumi frowns.
"What? Did something happen when the lights went out?"
Kugisaki cocks her head. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Itadori blinks more wrinkles into his brow.
"Fushiguro... the lights never went out."
Megumi's eyes narrow. Is this some kind of prank?
He looks around the room and is only met with more worried faces. Okkotsu. Maki. Inumaki. Panda, even.
The flames in the fireplace pop and crackle.
Oh, right. The fireplace.
-
There's a stranger in Megumi's bathroom, which is unusual because he thought the school amped up their security after.... everything. But stranger things could happen, he supposes. Curses and all that still exist, but not to normal eyes. The lucky ones.
He clasps his hands together and calls out for Kon, but the space must be too small because his shikigami never appears. Never the matter, he has to act fast because the stranger is raising his fist and it's a good thing Megumi has years of combat experience.
He balls his fist and strikes the stranger in the nose, shattering the cartilage that lies beneath.
The stranger with the messy black hair howls and Megumi raises another fist, sinking it into one of four red eyes.
Body on autopilot, he swings and clashes against his opponent. Screams tear through the other man's throat as Megumi claws at his face and crumbles the man beneath his hands. He doesn't show mercy. Has none left to give.
His chest heaves, wiping the sweat from his brow as Megumi comes down from the high of adrenaline coursing in his veins.
He exits the bathroom with knuckles in red soaked bandages and the remnants of a mirror in a plastic bag.
-
"Megumi, count to ten and no peeking!"
He's six and they're small, but even then, the apartment is still too limited for Tsumiki to find a hiding place that he wouldn't already know about. But he closes his eyes and goes along with it because it makes Tsumiki happy and he likes it when she smiles.
"Okay, but don't bother trying to hide in the closet again. That's too obvious."
"I won't," Tsumiki huffs.
Megumi stays on the futon and presses his palms over his eyes and counts over the pitter pattering footsteps.
"Ready, or not, here I come," he warns and slides off the edge.
He checks the kitchen first; empty minus a couple of canned vegetables and stale bread. Next, the bathroom, nobody in the tub, nor the water closet.
"I told you not to hide in the closet," Megumi taunts, raising his voice so Tsumiki will hear as he corners the sliding door, wiggling his fingers before slowly prying it open. "Found yo-"
Beneath the hangers is not his sister, but the corpse of a woman with a spiky, brown ponytail, red pouring from her lips that looks almost like lipstick but not, and familiar, empty brown eyes.
Familiar.
And she's smiling.
Megumi doesn't like this one though.
-
"You're going easy on me," Megumi growls, pushing himself off the tatami mats.
"It has been suggested to me by Shoko that I don't push you guys as hard for a few weeks," Gojo claims, lowering the bridge of his glasses. "You especially, Megumi."
Megumi clenches his fists. "How am I supposed to get any stronger if you don't let me use my full potential?" What if something happens again and I need to fight? Protect myself?
His fingers twitch.
Gojo's eyes narrow, scanning him up and down before settling a hand on his hip.
"You think can you take it?"
"Don't belittle me."
Gojo grins. "Get ready."
He raises two fingers and Megumi has a split second before disaster, clasping his hands together and together they shout.
"Domain Expansion!"
Shadows curtain over the room and hide everything in sight. Megumi clamps his eyes closed.
Kon, Max Elephant, Nue.
His chest tightens and invisible claws squeeze his lungs, smothered in a million pounds. And he's choking. Tendrils of black slipping through his teeth and stuffing his throat, taking root in his lungs to replace oxygen with smoke.
His eyes water and his body burns like an inferno.
"Megumi!"
He convulses and snaps back into the training room, sweat trickling down his temples and dampening his clothes.
Gojo's grip is almost just as suffocating as the tendrils.
"Limitless void?" Megumi rasps, hazy eyes barely making out the shapes above him. Gojo makes a face he's never seen before.
"No, Megumi," Gojo swallows thickly. "Your shadows didn't even manifest fully. I didn't open my domain because I had a feeling..."
Megumi's too exhausted to even raise his head. "A feeling?"
Gojo lifts him in his arm like a broken doll.
"We're going to Shoko."
-
Megumi hasn't showered in two weeks.
He doesn't really like getting soap in his eyes.
-
He's restless.
It's been like that for a while. The tossing, the turning, the covers too tight, to loose, too hot, too cold. His body aches and he can't even remember the last time he got his ass kicked bad in training.
So why?
He wears no bruises, no open wounds, no broken bones. He should be fine.
He stares at the golden ceiling above him, reflective of his lamp where the lightbulb still hasn't managed to pop yet. Waiting. Hoping. For what? He doesn't know.
Sleep, maybe.
A change, perhaps.
The pain to go away, a far off day dream lost somewhere between gravity and the center of the earth.
Megumi sighs, blanketing his arm over his eyes and turns to the other side.
The light bulb never flickers. It's a good thing he doesn't pay an electric bill.
-
"Did you have a bad dream?"
Tsumiki craddles him against her chest and pets his hair. She hums, rocking against the bed. Like a craddle for a baby. Megumi is not a baby, he is seven. Not a baby.
Megumi wipes the snot from his nose, a small hiccup escaping his lips.
"'m fine," he mutters. He's still shaking.
"Momma told me if you ever get stuck in a dream, count your fingers. You always have extra fingers in a dream, and then you know it's nothing but a dream!" Tsumiki chirps.
Megumi looks down as his hands, fingers spread wide.
One, two, three, four, five,
six, seven, eight
nine, ten
eleven,
twelve,
twenty.
He has twenty fingers,
With long black claws and strange black bands of parmanent marker on his wrists.
And that's not even counting the hands around his throat, or the ones around his ankles, and the ones gripping his arms and tearing into his legs and pouring out of his guts
and the one over his eyes
and the one crawling out of his mouth.
The claws hurt. Sharp and piercing the way it turns his throat to ribbons of unsightly pink fleshy bits that fall through his teeth.
-
Kugisaki keeps looking at him weird. She isn't the only one. It's like everyone sees some gross abomination across Megumi's face that he can't and refuse to tell him about it. He hates it. Kugisaki keeps staring. One eye only.
Lips pursed and chin resting on her fist and her eyes never ever leave.
"Can I help you?" Megumi snaps. It comes out rougher than he intended but Kugisaki is strong. She doesn't waver.
"Since when did you bite your nails? They look like they're about to bleed."
Megumi blinks, quickly releasing his ring finger from the cages of his teeth. Oh. He checks his hands and presses them against the table. Ouch.
Kugisaki sighs, rising from her seat and crossing the tiles on the floor, skipping every other one. She plops down in front of him and digs into her satchel.
"Give me your hand," she orders, palm facing upward.
Megumi knows better than to ignore her.
Her hands are soft and smell like vanilla and it's drastically contrast to the calloused ridges of his own flaky skin. She uses the nail file and carefully shaves down the chipped edges of his nails, moving from one hand to the next.
"Uh, thanks." Megumi mumbles, shifting on his legs, rubbing his thumb over the soft blunt curves of what could be salvaged from the wreckage of his canines.
"Don't mention it." She eyes him over again, still seemingly unsatified by the curve of her lips. She rises once more, this time coming to stand behind Megumi.
"What are you doing?" He asks, the sound of a can rattling behind him.
"Sit still." She sprays something in his hair, combing it through with her fingers and shaking through the strands. It feels curiously nice, so he doesn't argue. "There. Much better."
Megumi's head feels oddly lighter, just a fraction.
"Dry shampoo," Kugisaki answers his internal question, plopping the can right beside him on the table.
"Do you always keep that stuff on you?"
"A girl's gotta be prepared at all times," she shrugs. "Keep it."
She walks off before Megumi has a chance to rebuttal.
-
"Gojo-sensei? What are you doing in here?"
"Megumi, you're awake?" Gojo raises the corner of his blindfold and peers around the room, falling back to the boy on the bed with a book on his lap.
Megumi sighs and folds the corner of the page. "You didn't answer my question. I thought you were on a mission."
He eye the shopping bags in the teacher's hand, who raises it with a grin.
"I just got back! I got souveniers and a cake. Let's try it together, since you're awake, but ah-" He sniffs the collar of his uniform. "I'm gross. Let's shower first."
Megumi's whiplashed by the speed of those lips and before he can refuse, Gojo's already pulling him off the bed, bags abandoned to the floor.
"Are you crazy? Why now?"
"Why not? Don't be shy, Megumi, we used to do it all the time," Gojo chirps and leads him to his own bathroom like he owns the place.
"Not the issue here," Megumi grumbles, already lifting his shirt. If he doesn't do it, Gojo will.
He spins around to take off his pants and freezes at the sight of the tub where his stomach jumps out and runs out the door.
Strong hands grasp his stiff shoulders and steer him to the other side, where Gojo blocks his view with a smile and two blue eyes that see too much.
"You're not planning on washing your pants like this, are you, Megumi-chan?" He teases.
Megumi swallows down the boulders lodged in his throat. "No– no..."
It's harder to shimmy off his pants when his fingers keep slipping but they come off eventually and he tosses them to the side. He rubs at his elbows. "Um..."
"Good! Good!" Gojo claps and nudges the stool over with his foot and motions for Megumi to sit down.
"Aren't you also gonna take of your clothes?" Megumi asks, eyeing the long sleeves and pants that still don Gojo's body. "We're showering together, isn't that what you said?"
Gojo stares at him, uncharacteristically flat. "Do you want me to?"
Megumi shrugs. "Do you plan on washing your clothes like this?"
The corner of Gojo's lips quirk upward. "Megumi-chan just wants me naked," he sings, and slowly starts to unbutton his pants.
Megumi sputters and adamantly looks away, facing back to the wall as Gojo steps out of his uniform. "Idiot."
He hears his teacher laugh before starting the water, flicking droplets as he tests the temperature. Not too hot, not too cold.
"Ok, Megumi, you ready?"
He nods and tilts his head, drawing pictures on the walls with the trace of his eyes. Hot water rains down like a blanket over his body, making his shoulders slump as he releases a content sigh.
Gojo uses his fingers to help course it through his hair. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Gojo smile.
Two pumps of shampoo start sudsing up his hair as Gojo gently works it through the tangles. Grabbing the showerhead again and using his hand to create a dam above Megumi's forehead to prevent the water from cascading forward. Gentle and firm. A precision he didn't expect.
After the conditioner, Gojo massages the bodywash against his skin, rocking against him with every pressurized swirl that banishes the knots buried underneath. Must be a hidden third technique Gojo posesses. Megumi can't help the little moan that escapes past his lips as his body starts to sag.
Gojo chuckles. "Such an embarassing noise, Megumi-chan. You weren't even this vocal last time."
Megumi blushes. "Shut up, I was like, ten." He bats away the hand and stands up to get ready to swap their places. But when he turns around, Gojo isn't there.
Well, he is. But he isn't.
Because his legs are there and, and
his torso is on the floor and
and there's copper on Megumi's tongue and his hands are dyed red and
he blinks and blinks and blinks and tries to breathe through the black water that sloshes in his lungs
"Megumi!"
An echo in his ear.
"I'm right here, Megumi. I'm here." Gojo reaches out.
It feels like he slept in a freezer for a thousand years. Except his wrist, his wrist is warm.
"Listen to me, can you hear me? I'm going to squeeze your hand and you're going to breathe, okay? Right now. One, two, three."
Warmth shoots up his arm. He inhales.
"One, two, three."
He exhales and tries not to choke on the travelling winds.
"Feel my heartbeat, right here."
His palm is warm and the vibrations tickle.
"I'm alive. I'm okay. You're okay. Megumi, can you hear me?"
There's a ring in his ears, something is trying to climb out of his stomach.
"You're safe, you're with me, we're in the bathroom."
"The... bathroom?" Is that his voice? His throat hurts, he can't tell. Blinking doesn't clear his blurry vision either. Useless. Unchanging.
"Yes, the bathroom. You and me, Megumi. It's me, Gojo-sensei, remember?"
Megumi's fingers curl and dig and dig and dig and scratch at the walls.
"Say my name, Megumi, Gojo Satoru, come on, you can do it. Breathe. One, two, three."
"Haahh... Go-... Gojo-san," Megumi slurs around the mud in his mouth. "Sa... toru... Gojo... Satoru..."
His eyes must be playing tricks on him, because there's a ghost kneeling in front of him, holding his hand. Bright blue eyes and snow white hair that glows.
An angel. It must be an angel.
Yes that's right.
He reaches out and grips the angel's arm.
"Don't leave me, don't leave, don't-"
"It's okay, Megumi. I'm right here. I won't."
And Megumi will be okay, because the angel will pull him out from the bottom of the ocean. And he isn't religious, but right now, he could be.