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He doesn’t waste any time.
The second Sukuna is dispelled, Yuuji goes to Megumi. Curled up on the ground as though he could simply be asleep. Megumi sleeps so fitfully, Yuuji almost doesn’t want to disturb the peace he’s found. But appearance is a flickering ember, not a confirmation of light. His hand moves automatically toward the pulsepoint just under Megumi’s jaw. Forcing himself to slow down enough to count each beat as it moves beneath his fingers.
His heartbeat is fainter than it should be. Syncopated and unmoored. Nothing like Yuuji’s – beating fast enough for the both of them. Adrenaline from the fight given new purpose as he cradles Megumi’s fragile form close to him and runs with the same goal driving each step.
Megumi will come home.
Ieiri is there waiting for them when he makes it to the infirmary. Leading and guiding him towards a bed already prepared for Megumi. Yuuji pretends not to notice the blood of his friends covering Ieiri’s white coat.
There’s less of a proper invitation to stay and more of an unspoken acknowledgment that Yuuji will not leave Megumi’s side right now.
She gets to work stabilizing Megumi after all his body has been forced to carry. Yuuji doesn’t know the first thing about medicine, but he knows so many things about Megumi. It’s automatic, the way he reminds Ieiri that Megumi is allergic to penicillin so she can't use that on him and that the brand of antiseptic she prefers is too harsh for Megumi and leaves his skin painfully dry for days after so she needs to get the special one for sensitive skin.
But she knows this already, long since accustomed to the way sorcerers care for one another. It puts a fond look in her eye, like she is both here and not. The roots of the past blooming and flowering in the present.
Seventeen hours come. Seventeen hours go.
Yuuji spends each one with his fingers intertwined with Megumi’s. Watching as Nitta checks his vitals and Ieiri pumps him full of Reversed Curse Technique until she’s on the brink of collapse. Perhaps there are others that come.
It’s hard to focus on anything that isn’t Megumi right now.
His pulse is still too faint. His breathing is still too shallow. His hand is still too cold.
He squeezes Megumi’s hand.
There is no imaginary future for his mind to run to now that the fight is over. The outcome has been decided. He is stuck feeling every second of the present tick by. Each one a flash of a friend whose smile he’ll never see again, the grimaces of pain engulfing Megumi’s face as Yuuji battered Sukuna, the sacrifices of his family so that he could be sitting here. He has lost so much, but he will not lose Megumi too. There are promises he has sworn to keep. There is a life that awaits them far from the death and destruction of their youth.
He squeezes Megumi’s hand.
The sinking feeling in his gut shares precedence with the paper thin one under his eyelids. Anxiety and sadness chasing each other like a snake eating its tail. Bile and tears or tears and bile. Threatening to consume him – become all that he is. Concentrating on the feeling of Megumi’s fingers intertwined with his brings him back to himself. The dips and curves of his hands worn and familiar. He does his best to ignore the busted knuckles and blood-caked skin he refused to let Ieiri clean – inconsolable at the idea of being further away from Megumi than he is right now.
He squeezes Megumi’s hand.
But this time something is different.
This time Megumi squeezes back.
Yuuji thinks it might be a dream. Hope becoming tangible as his mind finds comfort in old habits, old memories.
But this is not imagination. Even in the way his eyes slowly blink open, Yuuji knows that Megumi is home. Each morning spent with an arm thrown around Megumi’s waist, waiting for him to wake up has ingrained this routine into him. It never changes – the way he insists on sleeping in total darkness and grimaces at any light shining into their room.
Yuuji thinks to ask Megumi how he’s feeling. If he’s warm enough (he always runs so cold). What the last thing he remembers is. If he should go get Ieiri.
Questions upon questions swim through his head, waiting to see which one he will ask first. His lips start to form the words, but before they can become sound a rush of warmth flows through him. Cursed energy spreading across his skin like sunlight. He has a promise to keep.
I will not waste any time.
“I love you.”
Expectation and anticipation melt away like a frozen lake welcoming the first light of spring. All that remains is crystal clear water – the essence of life itself. A thing that will sustain him for years to come.
This is the first time he gets to say I love you to Megumi. It’s so much better than all the other times he’s said it in his own head — said it out loud to Gojo — said it through his actions each and every time they saved each other. It’s better because Megumi makes everything better. Nothing is the same when he’s not around. Colors are less vivid. Food doesn’t taste like anything. Time passes or doesn’t. Laughter doesn’t sound as sweet.
Now he gets to say I love you to Megumi – his Megumi.
It’s the first thing Megumi hears after coming back to him. The words flutter over him like a butterfly wing caught on air. Floating and flitting as Yuuji’s whole life is about to change.
Megumi blinks hard — opening and closing his eyes in rapid succession. Surprise flutters through him and in the aftershocks Yuuji sees ripples of confusion and doubt.
He takes Megumi’s hand and puts it over his heart. The gesture seems more generous than it is because his fingers are over the pulse of Megumi’s wrist. Megumi needs to know that Yuuji is alive and real as much as Yuuji needs to know that he is too — needs him to know how much he means the words about to leave his lips.
“I love you. I am in love with you. I have love for you. You are loved by me. If love can do it, then it’s happening when I think of you.”
The warmth of cursed energy settling over him is unimaginable. Strength of iron in the core of a star on the precipice of existence carrying each word out with the certainty that the sun will always rise come morning.
People have told him his whole life that his smile is golden or his laughter brightens every room he’s in or his kindness can make even the frostiest of personalities melt away. And not that he thinks those people are liars. It’s just when that’s all you know, it’s all you know. Yuuji doesn’t consider himself anything special. He’s just a person.
But he gets it now.
He gets what sunlight feels like because that must be the thing radiating off him – from him – in him – as he finally tells Megumi he loves him. He understands why it’s a thing people comment on. Why they try to chase it and condense it and keep small parts of it forever because once you’ve felt warmth like this, the cold is so much more bitter. Yuuji wants to be the moon – a reflection of all of this back onto Megumi – solid, constant, grounded earth. To make sure he feels the warmth he has helped provide. But even as the moon gently diffuses light over the darkest of nights, sometimes it’s an eclipse. Blinding and full and impossible to look directly at.
That’s what Yuuji sees in Megumi. Disbelief and confusion and shock flare around his edges. He’s shrinking into himself. Yuuji wants to chase after him. To take him by the hand and lead him away from that path he loves to follow. To –
“Why me?”
It’s two words. Two words that come out small and confused. And sad. Deeply, deeply sad.
Sad in a way that doesn’t stop at the surface. It penetrates deeper than any petty insecurity Megumi might have. He’s not asking why on an interpersonal level. He’s not worried about Yuuji loving him less for his stubbornness or his temper or his tendency to isolate himself.
(Which, how could he? Those qualities are named in the same tender breath Yuuji praises his strength, his steadfastness, his thoughtfulness.)
No, Megumi’s cochleate mind would be far too bored to stop at something so shallow. Nothing in the shrub of his imagination is ever pruned. Each branch given a chance to flower and bloom when its season comes. The most negative ones are evergreen.
Yuuji doesn’t need – won’t make – Megumi to say the words out loud. He already knows what he’s asking.
He means how could you still love me after all the lives I’ve taken? He means how could you still love me after all the destruction my hands were used to sow? He means how could you love me still after everything I’ve done?
They are not normal teenagers sneaking out under the cover of night. Their biggest worry is not who they’re sitting with at lunch tomorrow or who they’re taking to prom in the spring. They carry so much more than that. He sees the weight of it all branded across Megumi’s face. Searing metal that leaves scars that nothing can ever undo.
Yuuji looks at Megumi’s face now. Scars and all. Two by his right and one by his left. And he loves him.
Yuuji loves Megumi and there is gravity on Earth and the sky is blue and after the longest of nights the sun will rise again.
With a slowness that strains his muscles, Yuuji leans in. Giving Megumi plenty of time to move or tell him to stop. Their breaths mingle. Megumi’s lip twitches and Yuuji is oh so aware of it. He thinks for a moment to divert his course, but stays true. There will be time for that later.
He places a kiss on the scar under Megumi’s left eye.
And oh what a gift it is to kiss Fushiguro Megumi. He hasn’t done it before. This is the first time he gets to and it’s so much more than even his most comforting dreams on all those nights he spent alone. He wants to smile – to leap for joy – to go run and tell everyone he’s ever met that he’s the lucky one who gets to kiss Megumi. To shout from every mountain that he knows what it feels like to kiss his best friend. Keeping the same pace as before, Yuuji adjusts slightly. Re-centering and re-grouping and re-orienting.
He places a kiss on the scar under Megumi’s right eye.
The pattern isn’t hard to predict. Megumi’s eyes flutter closed, already prepared for it. But just because it is inevitable doesn’t mean Yuuji wants to rush it. No, this is a thing to be savored. He only gets to do this for the first time once and he wants to remember it.
He places a kiss on the scar over Megumi’s right eye.
Yuuji pulls back to look at Megumi. His eyes are glassy around the center – his jaw clenched and unsteady.
“It’s only ever been you, Megumi.”
Perhaps it’s the exhaustion. Perhaps it’s the weight and truth of everything Yuuji just said. Perhaps it’s everything that they’ve been through to make it here.
But Megumi cries.
Weeps in a way that has snot dribbling out of his nose and his cheeks all red and his shoulders trembling – shaking with the force of it.
Yuuji carves out space by Megumi’s side. Gently helping him move to one side of the infirmary bed and sliding in next to him. It’s not a perfect fit. They’re packed in tightly. Yuuji makes more space by wrapping an arm around Megumi. Holding him while he cries. Every so often he kisses the top of Megumi’s head and whispers that everything will be alright.
He doesn’t realize it until his voice breaks and tears pass his lips as he opens his mouth to speak again. But Yuuji is crying too. Body forcing him to not rush through his own sadness and grief at the expense of helping Megumi through his. Megumi reaches up and wipes Yuuji’s tears. Whispering in return that everything will be alright. Like winter into spring they fade into one another. Taking turns being the reminder of the life that is to come on the other side of the darkness.
The rest that comes should be fitful. Interrupted by tears and flashes of memory that neither of them want to relive. But the universe is not through surprising him.
For the first time in days he knows that he is safe enough to let his guard down. No one is coming for them. There are no more curses to defeat. There is no battle to prepare for. There is only them. Yuuji and Megumi. Megumi and Yuuji. Held in each other’s arms with a certainty that they will both be right here when morning comes.
It is the fulfillment of a promise Yuuji would give his life to keep. Not in a way that means death or sacrifice. Sometimes a promise demands that you grow to meet it. And this is certainly one of those.
To not waste any time. To love him and cherish him. To stay by his side through good times and bad. Til death do them part.
Yuuji presses his ear to the other boy’s chest and takes Megumi’s hand and puts it over his heart to remind them both that they are here, they are real, they are alive and everything is alright.
/////
It doesn’t stay alright for long.
There is still a war to be cleaned up. Friends to bury. Power vacuums demanding to be filled. Family to mourn.
Being away from each other in the coming days is nearly impossible for both of them. They take their meetings in tandem. Eat meals side by side. Bathe in each other’s arms. Move all of Megumi’s things into Yuuji’s room. Learn old Wabun code so they can tap messages into each other’s wrists when language feels impossible.
At first these are vigils kept in silence. Solace and company extended without ever naming the fear that comes when they’re not within arm’s reach. And it all means something. Megumi is not like this with anyone else.
Old routines make everything feel a little more normal. They’ve lost so much and there is comfort in knowing that some things never change. Familiarity at times like these has its merits.
Yet Yuuji finds himself getting antsy. Words threatening to spill from his lips every time he’s with Megumi, alone or not. It’s not even the things they’re doing or the falling into old habits that’s getting to him — it’s the not knowing. The ambiguity.
Maybe being something and actually having it are not the same. There are lines in the sand between friend and boyfriend and Yuuji is trying not to cross any of them but also doesn’t know which side he’s supposed to be on.
He doesn’t want more of Megumi than he is willing to give. In another life, where curses were just profanity and fighting only meant with words, Yuuji would be content sharing the same train to work every morning, if he knew all Megumi wanted to be with him was a stranger he shared a nod with every now and then. Just being near him will always be enough.
To love someone is to be willing to let them go. And Yuuji loves Megumi and there is gravity on Earth and the sky is blue and after the longest of nights the sun will rise again. So if Megumi doesn’t want him like that, Yuuji will learn to make his peace with it. But he cannot let another day go by without talking about it. He has a promise to keep.
He waits until Megumi is winding down for the night. Curled up in their bed, reading a book, wearing one of Yuuji’s old sweatshirts. Warm light from the lamp on the nightstand dancing across his cheeks.
And it makes Yuuji’s heart shatter because what if he doesn’t get to spend the rest of his life like this? What if spelling it out drives Megumi away and this is their last night together? What if Megumi doesn’t feel the —
“Is everything alright?”
Oh, right. Of course Megumi can tell something is wrong. He’s kind of being … well … Yuuji isn’t exactly subtle.
Again, Yuuji takes in Megumi curled up in their bed. Really looks at him. All his sharp edges and soft curves. And he loves him. That’s all he can think about – all he sees in every facet of Megumi – is how much he loves him. He has already lost so much and he doesn’t want to lose Megumi too.
But how can he say that? How can he try anyway?
He stands before the man he loves and tries , but he just can’t quite make the words come out.
Megumi can tell that something is wrong. He shifts further to his side of the bed, opens his arms, and beckons Yuuji to come closer. He does — any offering of Megumi’s one he will always accept. Silence cradles them both. Interrupted at random intervals by Megumi running his fingers through Yuuji’s hair or rubbing circles on his back. It soothes him. Reminds him that Megumi is real. Is safe. Is here.
It takes everything in Yuuji to believe that this is not the last time Megumi will hold him. To trust that he doesn’t need to spend this time memorizing the way Megumi’s clavicle feels pressed into his cheek or the easy confidence Megumi has when he touches him.
Even if what he has to say changes their relationship. Even if it’s a thing their friendship can’t come back from, Megumi will still be real. He will still be safe. He will still be here. And more than his own selfish desires, Yuuji just cares that on the other side of this conversation those three things are still true.
He readjusts slightly, angling so that he can whisper into Megumi’s shoulder, but still be heard.
“It’s ok if you don’t feel the same, you know. If just being friends is enough for you. Or if you need more time.” He’s embarrassed by how shaky his voice is, but it doesn’t stop the words from tumbling out. The promise he has to keep is more important than any insecurity. “But I meant what I said. I love you, Megumi. I want to spend the rest of my life with you if you’ll let me.”
Megumi goes still. The strands of Yuuji’s hair he was twirling between his fingers fall back to Yuuji’s scalp. The easy pace of his belly expanding and contracting as he breathes is gone entirely. Yuuji can’t help but match him — freezing and shrinking into himself. Wondering if he should pull away. If this was making Megumi uncomfortable and he should just go. If he should apologize for saying anything and beg Megumi to just forget this ever happened.
Should is useless in this moment because Yuuji has no idea what he should do. He’s not sure of anything right now. He wants to fix — to backtrack — to cry — to minimize — to deflect. Anything to stop the ever growing pit in his stomach and the stress fractures engorging his heart.
It makes Yuuji a stranger to himself. Interrupting the constant truth that when Megumi is around things are easier. That when Megumi is around things are better.
No … that’s not quite right.
It’s not interrupting so much as it’s expanding – new situations forcing new definitions. Growing pains.
Even though he is completely and utterly lost – lost in this situation, lost to himself – Megumi is still real. Megumi is still safe. Megumi is still here. Those things have not changed. As hard as this is, it is easier than if he was alone. If Megumi wasn’t here beside him, Yuuji can only imagine how much scarier the fear digging its claws in and climbing out of his gut would be. The things he would have done to try to make it go away.
He’s always been like that – too impulsive for his own good. Thinking more about how to make something change right now than of any long term consequence or big picture. Everything always seems so immediate and urgent that Yuuji can forget how to slow down. That some things take time. Megumi isn’t like that. He thinks so deeply about everything and considers all his options before making a choice. Whereas Yuuji is content to take the first step toward any problem first and figure out what he’s missing along the way.
For the first time in what feels like hours, Yuuji feels Megumi take in another breath. It’s long and shaky – like he’s trying to bolster himself for something. The weight of his head shifts as Megumi adjusts underneath him, not letting Yuuji hide any longer. Ensuring that he can see Yuuji’s face when he asks, “What are you actually asking me Yuuji?”
The question is so Megumi that Yuuji can’t help but smile. He always cuts right to the heart of a problem. Has such a desire to understand the world around him – so curious and discerning. Emptiness is foreign to him. All of his words specific and full of meaning. All of his questions disarming — forcing Yuuji to better understand himself to respond. To match Megumi in his fullness.
Yuuji is so full right now.
Full of hope and optimism and love and nostalgia because that is what Megumi’s fullness demands of him. Yuuji wants to match Megumi. To rise to meet him in all things. This is how he can do that.
“I’m asking to marry you.”
Words that have become his dreams – the fiber of each blade of grass his bare soles tread on as he is running through a field knowing Megumi is on the other side. Knowing that he would get to see and hold him once more before morning came to tear them apart again. These dreams, every night while Megumi was away, are all that got Yuuji through to right now. To this present moment where he gets to make them reality.
Megumi looks like a dream — a soft haze settling over him like a lace veil. His lips are slightly parted and the tips of his ears are rosy.
“Right now?” Megumi’s voice is low and quiet the way it is in the mornings – when Yuuji asks if they can stay in each other’s arms for just a little longer and Megumi whispers Ok, Yuuji. Five more minutes.
It disarms Yuuji the way that waking does. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Did this mean Megumi wants to marry him too? Could he be ready for it somewhere down the line, but just needed more time? That’s fine by him. Yuuji meant what he said. He’ll give Megumi all the time he needs. Whatever Megumi needs, Yuuji will always give him. He’d give him anything. He’d give him everything.
“That's …”
Megumi trails off.
He searches for the words.
He tries again.
“That’s …”
He still can’t find them.
“I know,” Yuuji supplies.
He hopes that it communicates what he needs it to. That he knows that Megumi is it for him. That he knows that he wants to be married. That he knows that this is a lot all at once. That he knows that he is in love.
They have gotten so used to communicating without words these passing days – weeks – months (Yuuji isn’t quite sure how long it's been, if he’s being honest) that Yuuji knows that Megumi knows he means it. But Yuuji also knows Megumi. And Megumi will have questions.
“Why now?”
And, of course, Yuuji will answer any of Megumi’s questions – this one included. Even though it turns all his blood icy and it’s harder to make his eyes stay focused than it was a few seconds ago. Yuuji tries to get himself under control – tightens his trembling hands into fists to force away the memories trying to drag him away.
“We lost so much … so much.” Mahito laying a final hand on Nanami. “I thought I had lost you forever for part of it.” Not being able to get to Nobara in time. “Now that I have you back I don’t think I can ever …” Choso calling out to him through the flames. “Ever do that again.” Gojo’s back hitting the ground while his legs stayed rooted. “Not like that.” Not being able to stop Sukuna from taking over Megumi. Having to watch as he –
Tears burst forth from the intensity of the memories. Things not re membered , but re lived – re experienced in the speaking about it. Megumi presses one hand into the center of Yuuji’s chest and puts the other between his shoulder blades. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to remind Yuuji that he has a body. That he is not just his memories and experiences, but a real, living person. It makes it easier to breathe. Yuuji tries to match his breathing with Megumi’s, watching as his stomach presses into and away from Yuuji’s sweatshirt.
From the corners of his awareness, he hears Megumi’s voice — real and here and safe — as he whispers to Yuuji that everything is going to be alright. That they are in their room together at the school. That no one is coming for them. That they are not in any danger right now. That Megumi is right here. That he is not going anywhere.
Several minutes pass before Yuuji is able to return to just the present. For breath to become automatic and thoughts to become docile once more. The whole time Megumi’s hands never move – the firm pressure never wavers. Yuuji lets his forehead drop onto Megumi’s shoulder, letting a wave of exhaustion overtake him temporarily. When he does, Megumi is ready and waiting to catch him. To hold him again.
The memories were still bad when they came like that. One after another, pounding on the doors to his heart and demanding entry. Yuuji didn’t think they’d ever stop being bad. They were bad things. Intrinsically. There was no rewriting that. No making it anything other than what it was.
Megumi’s voice is soft when he speaks again. And in hearing him talk, Yuuji is reminded that there will always be good things coexisting alongside the bad ones.
“Marriage is a big commitment. It’s the kind of thing I only want to do once, you know?”
So he does want to be married. Does Megumi think about being married to him? Does the thought bring him comfort the same way it does for Yuuji? Just the thought brightens Yuuji to his core – cursed energy allowing him to sit up straighter, buoying his hope with a stamina he didn’t have seconds ago.
“I want to commit,” he nods emphatically. Cheeks straining from the force of his smile.
Megumi looks him over. Really looks at him. Taking in all he’s said and all he hasn’t. He purses his lips. Then he tries to pretend as though he wasn’t doing that — like he wasn’t paying attention to every micro-adjustment Yuuji was making or attempting to telepathically read each thought crossing his mind. It’s forced.
“I’m not blind, Yuuji.” His voice betrays him further, far too strained for the posture he’s trying to assume. “I see how other people look at you. Everyone would kill to be with you. I’ll be fine if you want to …” Megumi trails off – making some gesture that Yuuji approximates to mean go be with one of them.
Yuuji thinks it’s telling that Megumi can’t even say it out loud. Clearly it’s just as unthinkable to Megumi as it is to him.
The way he goes about bringing it up reminds him of Gojo. Of the conversation they had when Yuuji got his blessing. He remembers thinking then that one day he and Megumi would be able to look back fondly on that conversation and all the good that came from it. Yuuji thinks about getting to be old with Megumi and remembering this conversation with him now in the same way.
Being inside a memory while making it. Knowing that for years to come little details of this night will bring him right back here. The sweatshirt of his that Megumi is wearing. The way the air feels on crisp winter nights. The way Megumi’s ring finger looks without a tan line. Yuuji smiles.
“What?” Megumi asks.
“Nothing.” He deflects. “You sound just like him is all.”
“Who?”
“Gojo.”
Megumi’s face scrunches at the implications. “When did you and Gojo talk about this?”
Oh. Right.
“Before Shinjuku. I uhm…”
Yuuji hadn’t talked about the fact that he was going to ask Gojo for his blessing before he did it and it’s kind of a lot, right? Like, this was a big thing he did without consulting Megumi first. Logic tells him to run, to hide, to lie, to minimize, to –
But then he remembers that’s silly because this is Megumi. If Yuuji can’t talk about this with him, he might as well not have thought it himself.
Besides, he’s already done it. It’s not like they can go back and change that now. And technically Gojo had said that he would support them in whatever the two of them decided they wanted their future to look like. They get to decide that together. The only way they’d make that decision is if Yuuji was able to talk to him about it.
“We didn’t know what was going to happen. I was so sure that Gojo was capable of winning … but I was also so sure that Shibuya would be alright. We were preparing for all these different outcomes – good ones, bad ones, fine ones. And I just couldn’t stop thinking that we were making all these plans for everyone and we,” Yuuji gestures between the two of them, “we’re part of that. We’re everyone too. In so many of those plans we lost everything. We deserved at least one contingency where we got to be happy. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever get to see this one through. But now that I can, I don’t wanna wait to make it happen.”
Megumi laughs to himself. “You’re annoyingly good at that, you know.”
“Good at what?” Yuuji asks, voice upturning in confusion.
“Believing so hard that something good will happen that you see it done.”
Yuuji feels his face go warm, a crimson tinge certainly making itself at home across his cheeks and down his neck. It catches him off guard in a way that only Megumi can. Raw, unfiltered honesty – honey straight from the comb.
“Oh, it’s – I’m not – it’s nothing special –”
“Yes it is.”
Yuuji is pinned like a bug in a glue trap – stuck and unmoving under the weight of Megumi’s gaze. Every word that leaves his lips carries with it the certainty of generations – of truth that has been known for so long it was etched into the sides of mountains in variants of a language long forgotten, yet its wisdoms still remain. Is that really how he sees Yuuji?
“Just because it’s easy for you doesn’t mean it’s not special.” Megumi turns quiet. Thinking and turning something over in his mind. “You’re easy to love Yuuji. I’m –”
“You love me?”
He doesn’t mean to interrupt. Really – he had planned on giving Megumi the space he needed to say whatever was on his mind. But how could he stay silent when Megumi loves him? When the word love and Yuuji were said next to each other with the same sweet tone – the same tender affection?
Yuuji’s eyes go wide and starry at the admission. A comet soaring over his cheeks and his lips as he smiles, leaving a warm trail of blush in its wake. And this comet is a meteor shower – raining over Megumi just the same. An event of cosmic proportions just for them.
“It’s always been love. Right from the start.”
And oh where they started. Two strangers in a hospital, taking off at a sprint to save the day. Every step in time with each other even then. Yuuji had no way of predicting where the choices he made that day would lead him. But one thing has been constant since that day – wherever Megumi led, Yuuji would always follow. It’s always been like that. Right from the start. From the start, it has only ever been love. He’s known what it has been for himself. Has assumed – hoped – it has been the same for Megumi, but to hear him say it. To know in his head, not just feel in his heart. To have left the pollution of ambiguity behind for the crisp, clean breath of fresh air that is certainty.
He is certain that Megumi loves him. Megumi loves him. Megumi loves him. Megumi loves him. Yuuji turns the words over again and again in his head, relishing the sound of each of them. It’s elation. It’s salvation. It’s joy that fills him from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head. Yuuji never wants to stop smiling. Wants to hold Megumi close and kiss him until they fall asleep then wake up the next morning and shake the hand of every person in Japan and introduce himself to each of them as the man that Fushiguro Megumi loves.
The thought consumes all corners of Yuuji’s mind, so it takes him a second to realize that Megumi still has more to say. That he’s biting the inside of his cheek and can’t look anywhere but at their joined hands (Yuuji can’t even say for certain when they reached for each other, only that he doesn’t want to be anywhere else).
The silence lingers, the hum of the fan and the croaking of tree frogs far off in the forest, the only sounds for kilometers. But that’s alright. Yuuji will not break the spell of Megumi’s concentration. He will not rush him towards spitting out whatever words are clearly still on his mind. They have plenty of time.
Next to him, he hears Megumi take a deep breath and start again. “You’re easy to love. But I’m not like that. I think I … – I’m hard to love.”
He spits the words like bile and Yuuji takes them in like poison, jaw clenching and brow wrinkling. It’s insane — the most unfathomable string of words Yuuji has ever heard. Megumi being hard to love. Megumi.
Yuuji loves him in big ways — like fighting and waging wars. Yuuji loves him in small ways — like picking out the bell peppers before handing him his takeout. Both are easy. Both are automatic. Both he cannot wait to spend the rest of his life doing. How dare anyone out there have made Megumi feel like he deserved anything less than that.
“Who told you that?”
“I’m being serious, Yuuji.” Megumi rolls his eyes at him, voice low and gruff with frustration.
“So am I.”
They can both be so stubborn when it really comes down to it. Staring the other down, waiting for the other cave first. Yuuji doesn’t break, so much as he bends. Allowing his abandonment of ambiguity to also include this. “Megumi, you are not hard to love.”
“Compared to you I’m …”
Yuuji wants to interrupt, but bites his tongue. He will be patient. Some thoughts will rot a person from the inside out if they aren’t expelled, and these worries of Megumi’s might be some of those.
“You did so much – you have all these things planned and you see it so clearly and I … I just don’t want you to end up resenting me somewhere down the line if I can’t be like you. Or what you want me to be.”
He’s doing the thing that Gojo said he would. That Yuuji knows Megumi is prone to. Pushing other people away. Trying to isolate himself even though this is when he needs community most.
“I just want you. Exactly as you are. Don’t try to take my best friend away from me – or to change yourself because you think I want something different.” He squeezes Megumi’s hand — tries to catch his eye to let him know that his heart and words are light. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”
“I just think it’s a thing you should be sure about.”
“Megumi, I made a Binding Vow.”
“You what ?” His voice curls on the last word — pointed and gnarled. More shocked and confused than angry, but still a stark turn from the other words they’ve shared tonight.
“With Gojo. When we …” Talked about this without you is what he doesn’t say. It takes him a moment, but he finds the words to keep going. All the while, Megumi is cataloguing all the ways his body shifts in the telling of it — searching for any signs of danger or hurt or pain.
But, of course, there is none of that here. This is a happy memory. Yuuji feels the energy of the Binding Vow flow through him. It feels like sunlight and warmth. Like pride and devotion and adoration. Like a strong hand clasped on his forearm and piercing blue eyes gazing down at him fondly from somewhere far away.
“I made a Binding Vow with him that I wouldn’t waste any time. That I would love and cherish you. That I will stay by your side through good times and bad. ‘Til death do us part.”
Megumi’s hands tremble in his. His eyes dart between their clasped palms and Yuuji’s unrelenting smile. It’s hard to say which startles Megumi more – the fact that Yuuji isn’t going anywhere or that he’s so happy right now. A happiness that Megumi knows is true because Yuuji feels it so fully.
Any hesitation or regret or hurt that Megumi’s brain says Yuuji must be concealing there isn’t. No matter how deep he dives, there won’t be any for him to find – it was never there in the first place.
“What the hell were you thinking? Why did you – why would you do that?” The questions stumble out of him, interrupting and overlapping and hardly finished before the next one begins. “Did you even – Don’t you regret it? That pain – that … that burden – Why would you bind yourself to someone who is only ever going to weigh you down? I –”
“Don’t you dare say that,” Yuuji interrupts, voice crackling around the edges like a bonfire. “This,” He gestures vaguely to himself – trying to encapsulate the way it feels to have this cursed energy flowing through him and bolstering him at all times. “I have never been more sure of anything than I am of this.”
If honesty is a tuning fork – a vibration in one place that without any sort of contact spurs the same vibration in another – then that is what is vibrating through Megumi right now. The truth of Yuuji’s words travels between them and shakes him to his core. At first it’s jarring, the way any change is. But Yuuji can see Megumi settle into it – see the words settle over him.
Believing it and understanding it are not the same. It might take Megumi years to believe Yuuji when he says all this. To trust without hesitation or doubt that Yuuji will be by his side for as long as Megumi lets him stay there. But he can understand it now. He can just know that it is true, even if it doesn’t feel true yet. It will one day. Yuuji will make sure of it.
“Can you ask me again?”
Yuuji can’t suppress the gasp at Megumi’s sudden question. Asked so simply, yet when Yuuji’s gaze immediately snaps to Megumi, he looks almost conspiratorial. As though they share a secret that is only theirs. This moment is only theirs.
There’s also anticipation there. Excitement and hope that might be lost to other people, but not to Yuuji. Never to Yuuji – too intimately familiar with every curve on the face of the person he loves to miss the implications of a single change.
The person he loves. The person he wants to spend the rest of his life with. The person sitting by his side and waiting to be asked to stay forever.
“Megumi.”
And so he does.
“Will you marry me?”
“Yes.”
Yes.
Megumi said yes. Yes he will marry him. Yes he wants to spend a lifetime by his side. Yes. Yes. Yes.
Giddiness embalms him – a resin coating all his limbs and preserving this feeling forever. Megumi is the same, smiling and nodding alongside him. Running fingers through hair and caressing cheeks and wiping tears. All dreams of this moment could never compare to right now because this is life. Lived and embodied and involved and better shared.
All the things he will share with Megumi. The life that they get to make together. Every gift their future holds (not merely two intertwined journeys, but a singular path forward, followed together). It all begins right now. With a single yes.
What they have been through to be here is not unsimilar to the way gold itself is forged. Something that could be good, found through chance and covered in earth and detritus. Taken and heated up nearly beyond recognition. Changed and altered and decidedly not the same as before. But through that heat – that conflict, that struggle – bonded closer and closer together. The dust settles and can be scraped off the top – leaving behind something golden and pure.
Yuuji looks at Megumi – his fiancé – and he shines.
“Can …” Megumi whispers, “Can I kiss you?”
In this moment Yuuji realizes he doesn’t think that they’ve ever kissed before. Had they really never –
“ Please. ” Megumi’s eyes are piercing. Full of a want Yuuji feels echoed in his belly, his heart, his hands.
Yuuji lets his actions speak for themselves. He leans and leans and leans in – as slowly as his body will let him, savoring every second of this first – until a single piece of paper would struggle to pass between them. Several breaths come and go between them – proximity making their origin impossible to distinguish.
“What are you waiting for?” Megumi murmurs, the hint of a challenge in his voice.
“You said you wanted to kiss me,” Yuuji taunts.
He feels Megumi’s smile – the crinkling of his nose and the graze of his cheekbones – a second before he tastes it. It melts like ice cream, sweetness overtaking him slowly. Settling into all the cracks in his lips.
Megumi’s lips are so soft – impossibly soft, nothing has ever been this soft before – as they press into his. Yuuji wonders if the rest of him is soft. He lets his hands match his thoughts and wander to Megumi’s jaw. Using the newfound proximity, Yuuji pulls him closer. Megumi sighs into him and Yuuji has never been happier than he is right now.
They are here. Right here in their room. Here after everything. All of the fighting, all of the planning, all of the hope, all of the loss, all of the heartache, all of the joy, all of the change. So much good mixed with so much bad until it’s impossible to distinguish one from the other. But this moment is just one thing. This moment is good . This moment is happy.
The kind of happiness that bubbles over like a riverbank after a storm. All the way from the soles of his feet, to the bend of his knees, to the expansion of his lungs, to the pounding of his heart, to the smile overtaking his lips. Yuuji cannot contain it – a feeling made physical, made tangible in the space between.
Yuuji pulls away just far enough to make the words come out. “We really did this out of order, didn’t we?”
“Yeah,” Megumi breathes.
They hold it together for approximately a second and a half before laughter bursts forth like a fractured dam – spilling from their lips and filling the room. Even though it’s late at night, the thing cradling them is not darkness, but a light of their own creation.
Eventually, sleep calls to them both and Yuuji finishes getting ready for bed. He can’t brush his teeth or put on his pajamas fast enough – not when his fiancé is there waiting for him back in their room. Yuuji returns with a dopey grin covering his face that only widens when Megumi rolls his eyes at him. He scoots further to his side of the bed in the same motion, beckoning Yuuji closer.
Just before sleep overtakes them, Yuuji whispers to Megumi that he loves him and Megumi whispers it back and Yuuji has never been happier than he is right now.
/////
I have never been happier than I am right now.
This thought is on a constant loop in the back of Yuuji’s mind – each moment edging out the previous one as the new titleholder. Until the next moment comes. And then the next. And then the next.
Each moment is better because to love someone is to fall deeper into it the longer you are together. It is going to bed each night with the question of How could I possibly love him anymore? And then waking up the next morning with the answer.
Telling their friends comes in waves. It’s never a formal conversation. They don’t sit people down and tell them that they’re getting married one day. That they are in love.
Rather they keep existing like they always have. They still share touches that linger. Words heavy with meaning and significance that doesn’t need to be spelled out to be real. Gazes full of longing and want. Quiet nights where company is kept and space is shared and dreaming doesn’t mean nightmares.
But it is not ambiguous now. They know what they are to each other. There are words and rituals and proclamations that are theirs – not hope hidden in the Pandora’s box of Yuuji’s heart, but a mural plastered across the outside.
When Nobara makes a joke that they should just get married already, Yuuji’s stomach doesn’t drop in fear that it might never happen. Instead he gets to ask if she’d be willing to officiate when they do. (She assumes he’s joking at first, but when she realizes he isn’t they laugh and cry together and she says she wouldn’t miss it for anything.)
They spend their first anniversary moving into an apartment a few kilometers from the school. Close enough to have an easy commute for classes and mission briefings, but far enough away to give them a chunk of independence. Once all the boxes are inside, they collapse in a puddle on the floor of the living room ( their living room) – a thick layer of sweat coating each limb. There will be plenty of time to unpack them all tomorrow. The only thing Megumi insists on doing tonight is hanging the pictures of Wasuke and Tsumiki and Gojo on the wall facing the big window so the three of them can watch the sunset together.
Perfection is the enemy of action and they have done so much to be here – be together. So every day is not perfect. Some days are hard. Some days the grief they share demands attention. Some days are more remembering than fresh living. Some days darkness is inevitable and light feels like false hope. It takes time to learn how to navigate them. Trial and error and effort.
Love is not a promise of no bad days – that’s something Yuuji cannot guarantee and he would never make a promise to Megumi that he cannot keep. It is a promise that even on the bad days, neither of them will have to go through it alone. That they can look to their side and see the face of the one they love looking back at them.
As simple as it is, sometimes that’s all it takes to change a day from bad to good. To change tears to laughter – a spiral of anxiety to a flourish of hope. Just being there for each other. Megumi has shown up for him so many times in this way – Yuuji hopes he does the same.
After all, he has a promise to keep.
/////
They get married two days after Yuuji turns eighteen.
It’s a small civil ceremony. They spend the morning getting ready together in the home they share, filled with excited glances and giddy laughter and music playing softly from another room.
Yuuji can’t help but stare at the man he is about to marry.
Megumi is so beautiful.
Dark locks that Yuuji had once thought might feel crunchy, but now knows are so soft – impossibly soft, nothing has ever been this soft before – just like the rest of him. His green eyes diligently cataloguing every detail of his attire to ensure it’s all tied correctly. He’d picked a simple black montsuki for their day. Yuuji had too – similar enough to feel coordinated, but not an exact match. Yuuji knows there are still days where the scars by his eyes bother him, but they are part of him now. And Yuuji loves all of him. Scars and all.
He’s beautiful always – striking and alluring and the kind of handsome that stops strangers in their tracks. Inexplicably drawn to him. Yuuji can’t exactly blame strangers for noticing him (he would do the same thing in their shoes). But these small moments where Megumi can let his guard down. When he’s engrossed in a task and focusing all of his attention onto one thing. Those have become Yuuji’s favorite since those are just for him.
Megumi catches Yuuji staring at him and laughter returns – vibrating between them as Yuuji threads his arms around Megumi’s waist and kisses his neck.
The door to their apartment buzzes, which means Nobara is here so they head downstairs to meet her. Her eyes turn undeniably misty when she sees them, but she claims it’s just all the pollen this time of year.
Normally Megumi drives, but not today. Today Yuuji is the one with a grand plan. From the backseat, Nobara is giggling and pestering Megumi about his weird taste in music, but it’s his special day so she lets him stay on aux.
Megumi hadn’t been picky about where they did the ceremony (the marriage license is still valid no matter where they sign it, he’d said), so there are no complaints as Yuuji drives them into a secluded garden. Wisteria and plum blossoms dance in the breeze – carrying a fresh, sweet scent that Yuuji knows will remind him of this day for years to come. Yuuji gets out of the car first, hurrying to the other side to open Megumi’s door for him. He holds his hand out for Megumi to take, which he does without hesitation. Nobara lets them walk off ahead. Already aware of where Yuuji is taking them.
The officiant is the only legal witness they’d needed – a role Nobara was more than happy to fill. But Yuuji had wanted a second.
He leads Megumi deeper into the garden, right to a large plinth with the name Gojo Satoru etched into the front. Another promise sworn to keep, of wanting Gojo to be there when he and Megumi finally did get married. Megumi takes in where they are and squeezes Yuuji’s hand tighter when he realizes. He doesn’t try to shrink down how much this means to him into something as small as words. But he doesn’t need to. Yuuji just knows.
Nobara isn’t too far behind them. She’s taken her role as officiant very seriously. Apparently Maki has sat through no less than thirteen versions of this ceremony. When Megumi found out he told her that was overkill for such a simple ceremony, but Yuuji understood. She wanted to get this right. This was her way of showing them how much she cared for them.
She takes a second to get her papers in order – a copy of her officiant speech and copies of each of their vows she’d offered to hold for them.
Traditional ceremonies have so much pomp and circumstance before they get to this part. Where words are exchanged and vows are made. But at the end of the day, they are just three friends gathered in a forest. They can simply … begin.
“There’s a reason you ask a friend to marry you. On a day like this, meant to celebrate the love that you two share, it matters that you get to share it with someone that got to witness that love. And boy have I been there for all of it.”
A bittersweet symphony of good times and bad – of laughter and loss – reverberates in the back of his mind. Acknowledged, but not relived. For there is nothing that can take him from this moment.
“When Yuuji first told me that you two wanted to get married I thought he was crazy. We’re still so young. If it was anyone else, I’d say they were reckless idiots who were taking things too fast. But for you two – I’m forced to make an exception. Time is not a guarantee – not for us. And so if you’re lucky enough to know what you want the rest of your life to look like, then why wait to start it?”
Yuuji cannot tear his eyes from Megumi and wouldn’t dream of trying. And as always, perfectly in sync, Megumi is looking back at him. Wonder and tenderness and affection and love pass between them in an eternal loop, strengthened in the repetition. Megumi rubs small circles into the top of Yuuji’s hand with his thumb, keeping him close.
“But today isn’t about starting something new. It’s a continuation of the love you have shared and a promise that you will continue to share in it for all the years to come. I’m honored to get to be by your side, rooting for your love, today, tomorrow, and all the years to come.” Her voice crackles and frays at the edges, like an old photograph looked back on and lived all at once. “You two are worth sticking around for. I hope that even when things are hard, you’re able to remember that the person at your side is worth sticking around for.”
The three of them fall into a moment of easy, shared silence. Looking to one another in turn and committing the details of the day to memory. The sensation of the breeze, the smell of the soil under their feet, the versions of themselves experiencing it all.
There is no pressure to rush through this. No audience that they might worry about doing the wrong thing in front of. There is no right and wrong way. There is only their way.
Nobara flips the page she’s holding and looks to Megumi. “Do you, Fushiguro Megumi, take Itadori Yuuji to be your lawfully wedded husband? Do you promise to love and cherish him? To stay by his side – through good times and bad – ‘til death do you part?”
Each word Nobara says is another iridescent beam shining from Megumi onto Yuuji. To be caught in his gaze – the center of his attention – never fails to make Yuuji blush. It’s disorienting, knowing that this is real – that these promises that Yuuji made years ago are ones that Megumi also wants to keep.
“I do.” His voice is soft like a whispered dream that Yuuji cannot wait to spend the rest of his life waking up to.
Neither of them can stop smiling. Not the kind that stops at the cheeks – contained only to a fraction of the self. No, they are all – Nobara too – unfettered by those constraints. Finding new bounds to the joy a single person can contain. And why shouldn’t they be? Today is a happy day.
She turns to Yuuji now. “And do you, Itadori Yuuji, take Fushiguro Megumi to be your lawfully wedded husband? Do you promise to love and cherish him? To stay by his side – through good times and bad – ‘til death do you part?”
These words are so similar to the ones Yuuji promised Gojo he would keep for his son all those years ago. The first and only time Gojo ever called Yuuji his son-in-law. Yuuji feels the cursed energy of the Binding Vow flow through him. Sunlight and radiance and brilliance. In this way, Gojo is still there with them. Watching over this union that he blessed.
This warmth has become so interwoven with his day to day – showing Megumi that he loves him as often as he can means that he feels the Vow just as much. He cannot imagine a life without it and he is so grateful that he doesn’t have to. There is no life without Megumi. Breath may still come and hearts may still beat, but the living – the experiencing, the discovery. That doesn’t happen without him.
Yuuji straightens, the truth these words carry demanding that he grow to match them. “I do.”
They had agreed that they wouldn’t do a ring exchange, since Yuuji can’t exactly wear a wedding band the traditional way anymore. Tradition, a living embodiment of all the dreams his grandpa had for him but could not be around to see in this lifetime. Another promise he is honored to keep.
But when Yuuta called him and told him that he found a ring with Gojo’s things in his office at the family estate – a thin silver band with ornate filigree and a single blue stone in the center – Yuuji couldn’t exactly refuse.
So it’s not an exchange, not truly, because Megumi isn’t giving him anything in return. But he doesn’t need anything from Megumi. To sit by his side and watch the way he moves through the world is a thing of dreams. He doesn’t need to alter Megumi’s existence in any way. Just getting to exist alongside him – that will always be enough. All the rest is just a bonus.
When the time is right, the ring slips onto his finger easily. It’s a little loose, but they can get it resized later. They have time.
Megumi stares at his hand in disbelief. Tear stained cheeks overflow once more with love of a new kind. Love with nowhere else to go, taking refuge in grief. His eyes, glassy and crystalline, find Yuuji’s.
“But what about you? I didn’t …”
Yuuji knows a bid for inadequacy when he hears one. Knows all too well the ways that the voice in Megumi’s head tries to rewrite the truth and convince him that he does not deserve the future they are trying to forge for themselves. That this lack of symmetry is somehow unfair to Yuuji.
Fairness is fake and arbitrary. Life has not been fair to either of them.
It’s not fair that they were forced to fight in a war. It’s not fair that they know what it’s like to be overtaken by the King of Curses. It’s not fair that their childhoods were taken from them. It’s not fair that they have had to bury so many people they love. It’s not fair that they’ve lost so much.
It’s not fair that they get to love someone who made all of the fighting worth it. It’s not fair that they met so young and will spend more of their lives with each other than without. It’s not fair that Megumi looks at him like there is no corner of the Earth he would not go to just to see Yuuji smile. It’s not fair that they have so much to look forward to.
He kisses the ring on Megumi’s finger before releasing his hold in favor of cradling Megumi’s cheeks with both hands. Thumbs automatically wiping away tears.
“I have everything I could ever need right here.”
And he means it – Megumi is everything. Everything to him, everything he could ever dream of, everything he’s always wanted, everything he didn’t know he needed, everything in the world condensed into a single person.
“Now,” Nobara soothes, guiding them both back toward what comes next. “Each of you will have a chance to share your vows with one another.”
She hands Megumi a piece of paper. Yuuji can see words written in neat orderly rows that he would recognize the handwriting of anywhere. Megumi keeps one hand intertwined with Yuuji’s and accepts his vows with the other. His free hand trembles slightly as he takes the paper from Nobara, clutching both it and Yuuji perhaps slightly tighter than necessary.
“Yuuji.”
They’ve barely begun and already Megumi seems on the verge of tears. Which does not bode well for Yuuji’s own ability to keep it together.
“To be standing here with you in this place – It’s … I never thought I would have this.” He squeezes their joined hands. “That I would live long enough to get married. Or that there was anyone out there I’d even want to be married to. Then you came barreling into my life and I understood just how wrong I’d been. I knew I needed to keep you. For as long as you would let me hold you. I used to think that maybe a day would come where I had to let go. But that day has yet to come. Just like you do in all things, you’ve indulged me for far too long.”
Yuuji goes to interrupt. To tell Megumi that he does not indulge him, but Megumi doesn’t let him – continuing to speak before Yuuji can get the words out.
“And even written into my speech, I have it that you will try to tell me that you do not indulge me. Everything you do is because you want to and because you love me.”
Megumi chuckles slightly, seeing the understanding spread across Yuuji’s face. To be seen is to be loved and that is exactly what Yuuji had wanted to say.
“I’ve always loved that about you. There is so much to love about you. I love the way you care — deeply and fervently and unapologetically. I love your eternal optimism. I love the way we fit together. Not as two incomplete halves, but as two complete individuals that are simply better together. I love the sound of your laugh. I love the way your tongue sticks out when you’re thinking. I love your kind heart. I love your trust and compassion. I love you.”
He loves me.
Yuuji has heard Megumi say these words for years now, but each time still feels like the first. A fresh wave of butterflies flutter in his stomach and blush overtakes his cheeks. And how could it not fluster him? Megumi loves him. It’s disorienting. It’s intoxicating. It’s real.
“I knew that you loved me too before you ever said it because everything you do shows me. Even plans that I might deem reckless or stubborn - if they are for someone or something you love, you’re willing to do whatever it takes to see them safe. Including making a Binding Vow. I still can’t believe you did that.” He huffs slightly. It makes Yuuji smile even more than he already is.
It takes him back to a conversation that has long been a memory. Of the two of them in Yuuji’s room at the school. Laying the foundation for what lets them be here today. He remembers being so anxious to tell Megumi, but even more certain that once he finally did that this would be a moment looked back on with insurmountable fondness. Yuuji loves being right.
“You went out of your way to secure our future and we are here because of that. You saw something in me worth loving when I didn’t know how to find it myself. But by looking at myself through your eyes, I think I might find it on my own one day. It is only by your side that I have finally seen someone worth finding.”
Megumi’s voice cracks over the words. Like soil breaking as fresh crops split through the surface – there is pain and discomfort in the break, but all in the name of growth. The first part, at least, is words Yuuji knows well. Shared often on bad days, under the cover of night when secrets spill from sleep addled lips much easier than they do during the day. But the second part. That’s new. It’s change he has seen with his own eyes, but not labeled out loud until right now. Yuuji has never been more certain that Megumi is the bravest person he’s ever met.
“I know there is goodness in the world because you are goodness and you are the world – all rolled up into one. It feels selfish to call you mine because what is the world if you are not the best, brightest thing in it. But I vow to be selfish with you, Yuuji. I vow to keep you safe and treat you as the precious, wonderful gift you are. I vow to be yours, in every sense. I vow to grow with you and allow you space to grow too. I vow to love you, for the rest of this life and the next.”
The delicate seams holding him together burst. There is not a dry eye among them — tears not hidden or disguised but falling freely. Nobara takes Megumi’s vows from him and goes to hand Yuuji his, but they’re all a mess. Trying to dry tears with sleeves or the back of hands.
“Don’t worry,” Nobara sniffles, “I knew you two would need these.” She pulls a small packet of tissues out from one of the pockets in her dress and hands one to each of them.
“And you don’t?” Yuuji teases. Nobara shoves his shoulder. Her protesting would be a lot more convincing if a mascara filled tear didn’t pick that moment to roll down her check, leaving a watery black trail in its wake. Yuuji just rolls his eyes and uses the tissue to wipe the mascara off her cheek.
She sputters and Yuuji can't help but laugh. He has never been happier than he is right now and yet none of them can stop crying. The absurdity of juxtaposition takes over, and soon Megumi and Nobara are laughing too.
Because they are here. Three friends alone in a garden while two of them get married. Life has forced them to grow up so fast — to face responsibilities and make choices far beyond their years. In this moment though, Yuuji feels so young. He remembers doing homework and going into the city on the weekend and staying up too late with Megumi and Nobara. Remembers all the laughter they have shared. Remembers all the ways they have shown up for one another. None of them more sacred to Yuuji than this one, but only worth that much to him because of all that has come before.
Then Nobara actually hands Yuuji his vows. Suddenly everything feels a lot more real.
Their love exists in so many mundane ways that Yuuji feels even when they’re doing chores or cooking dinner, this added element of ritual is new. It adds stakes – adds pressure. Makes Yuuji nervous around Megumi in a way he hasn’t felt in years.
Megumi’s vows were so beautiful. Yuuji wants his to make Megumi feel the same – Megumi has such a way with words. Always has. What if Yuuji can’t quite live up to that or –
But he looks at Megumi and suddenly he doesn’t need to second guess any of it. Megumi loves him exactly as he is. Megumi wouldn’t change a thing about him.
He breathes. Then begins.
“Megumi – my Megumi.”
He’s not certain how Megumi held it together for as long as he did. Just saying his name already has tears rolling down Yuuji’s cheeks.
“Neither of us grew up with a perfect family in a home with a white picket fence and two parents who loved each other. There was no blueprint for us to replicate. A love worth fighting for – worth living for – we have had to forge in our own image. Just two people who knew that they love each other and were willing to learn how to love together. I learn so much from you. Your sweet, brilliant mind, always showing me new ways to see. You have taught me that love is not just one thing. It is too full a word for singularity. There is so much contained in it.”
Megumi rubs small circles into the top of Yuuji’s hand with his thumb. The tenderness sends a fresh wave of affection washing over him. He’s attentive like that – always seeking out little ways to show Yuuji that he’s thinking of him.
“Over the years, I have learned not just how to love, but I have learned how to love you. You feel loved when I am honest with you, so I vow to always tell you the truth. No matter how messy or embarrassing or scary it may be, because I know that you love my mess as much as my polish. You feel loved when I believe in you, so I vow to never take it easy on you because I already know that you are capable of great things. You push me to be better every day and I can only hope of doing the same for you.”
There are memories that come with talking of the love Megumi has taught him. Nights spent learning how to talk each other through panic attacks and out of the lies their minds would try to convince them of. Days spent running his fingers through Megumi’s hair while they read together and training together until they collapsed. Yuuji is so used to memories that take him somewhere far away, but these connect him even more deeply to this moment. They remind him of why he has chosen to marry Megumi.
“You feel loved when I hold you close, so I vow to always reach for you. To find you and seek you out. I know that your brain tries to convince you that you do not deserve this. So for all the overthinking your sweet, brilliant mind forces you to do, I vow to be an over explainer. To reassure you as many times as you need and then some. When you try to run inside yourself, I vow to be two steps behind you. Ready to sit in the dark alongside you and hold your hand when you’re ready to find the way out together.”
Megumi is as much of a mess as Yuuji is – both crying unabashedly. It takes everything in Yuuji to not toss this speech to the side and pour his full attention into kissing away each tear from Megumi’s cheeks.
“The heart of these vows I make to you today are really ones that I renew. Ones that I have kept and held close for years now. It is the greatest honor I have ever been trusted with. But they are made even more special today because I get to make them to you, my love . My best friend . Everything is more special when it is shared with you and these vows are no exception. Our path to being here sharing them has been long and challenging, but I would follow you anywhere. I will follow you anywhere. I can’t wait to, actually. Til death do us part.”
Yuuji hands his vows back to Nobara, but truly she does most of the work of retrieving them since Yuuji cannot take his eyes off of Megumi. Glowing from the inside out – sharp features haloed in sunlight. He’s an angel.
There is barely contained excitement – joy and exhilaration in Nobara’s whole being as she says, “It is my incredible honor to pronounce that my two dearest friends are married. You may now kiss your husband!”
They’re married. Megumi is his husband now.
Without a second thought – with a primal, palpable relief that now he can – Yuuji pulls Megumi close and kisses him. Kisses his husband. It reminds him of the first kiss they shared. The sweet taste of Megumi’s smile melting into Yuuji’s. It’s so rare to see Megumi smile, but to know the shape of it is an even greater gift. It means that he is real. That he is here. That he is safe. That he is happy.
Yuuji has never been happier than he is right now.
There’s only so long Nobara can wait before she interrupts – engulfing them both in a suffocating hug. There are squeals and shouts and so much laughter. The birds in the trees join their chorus. Everything in perfect harmony.
Nobara sighs, looking back and forth between them. “I can’t believe I have married friends now.”
“Well, you better believe it!” Yuuji teases, throwing an arm around Megumi’s shoulder and nuzzling his face into his cheek. Nobara rolls her eyes and punches Yuuji’s shoulder. Megumi makes eye contact with Nobara before making a point of kissing Yuuji’s shoulder better so she punches Megumi in the shoulder too for good measure.
“Can we go back now?” Nobara droles. “Yuuta’s been talking about the cake he has planned for weeks and I wanna see if it lives up to the hype. Plus I know everyone else is excited to see you two.”
Yuuji goes to agree automatically, but he feels Megumi stiffen in his arms. He turns to look at him and sees Megumi looking back at the plinth with Gojo’s name on it. Megumi’s voice is soft and distant when he says, “We’ll be back up in a minute.”
Yuuji looks at Nobara, who nods and understands and leaves them be. The large plinth is Megumi’s sole focus. It’s well maintained, no surprise. No moss or dirt encroaching on the stone. A bouquet of flowers placed at the base. Yuuji recognizes the arrangement – white chrysanthemum and lily of the valley – enough to know that Megumi is the one that left them here.
It took Megumi months to work up the courage to come visit Gojo’s grave, but after he started he couldn’t stop. He comes by at least once a week. More when he’s under pressure from the higher ups or something big happens. Sometimes he only comes by for a few minutes. Just enough time to leave fresh flowers or clean the plinth. Other times he comes home with red rimmed eyes and a hoarse throat. On those days, Megumi collapses into his arms and Yuuji holds him until he falls alseep.
“He really loved you, you know.” Yuuji offers into the silence. “He told me that you were the only family he had.”
Of course, he’s told Megumi this countless times before, but it bears repeating. Yuuji can tell in the widening of his eyes and the tightening of Megumi’s grip on him that it still means the world to him.
They are nothing if not equals, so into the silence Megumi has an offering of his own. “Thank you for keeping your promise.”
Yuuji’s conversation with Gojo had been recounted to Megumi word for word, time and time again. He’s just as familiar with it as Yuuji is. Probably more so – his ever discerning mind picking up the details and committing each of them to memory. Yuuji had always felt that Megumi was present during the talk with Gojo, but in this way his presence became even more tangible.
When people talk about getting married, the presence of family can sound like a given. A normal baseline that other people meet without thinking. Nothing about Yuuji and Megumi’s lives were normal and this was no exception. Moments of simplicity, of normalcy, must be fought for and carved out on purpose. It’s not easy work. It is frustrating and unfair. But the look in Megumi’s eye – the peace and ease loosening his muscles and the smile it makes room for. That is something Yuuji will fight for every time.
It is Megumi who leads them away. Guiding him up the stone path with practiced ease. When they make it back to the car, Nobara is leaning against the passenger door. Letting the breeze wash over her the same way the sun is. She shifts when she sees them, standing fully on her own two feet again. “You ready to go home?”
“Yeah.” Yuuji looks at his husband, takes his hand and lets himself trace the ring adorning his finger. “Let’s go home.”
They get in the car and start driving. Golden hour sun shines bright across the early spring day. Yuuji commits every detail of this moment to memory. The breeze coming in through the open windows that caresses Megumi’s hair. The way their hands feel intertwined over the center console – the feel of Megumi’s wedding ring. The music on the radio. Nobara teasing. Megumi laughing.
He turns to his right. Sees Megumi already looking back at – smiling at – him. All honeyed and bright and full and just for him.
Yuuji has never been happier than he is right now.