Work Text:
It wasn’t like anyone was going to miss him anyways, let alone think of him.
Megumi didn’t think it possible for someone, anyone, to regard him in a shining light, not after all of the horror he caused and pain he inflicted on everyone around him. It couldn’t have been possible after all of Shinjuku was trashed to rubble, after his stupid sister met her fate following the years she spent in comatose, after the only father figure he ever had, one of the only consistencies in his life–no matter how annoying the man was at times–was killed.
All by his hands.
And if all his hands could create was death, then so be it.
He decided there was no better way for someone as putrid and horrifying as him to go out than by these very same hands. The ticking of a clock, a karmic cycle coming to completion.
So there he was, knees pressed into the rough carpet of his bedroom floor, an orange bottle of pills gripped tightly in his scarred hand. It slipped past his mind how long he had been there for, but a quick glance at the clock told him it had been way too long.
Thirty minutes too long. Sixteen years too long.
He sat back, his eyes shut as he focused on his breathing, trying to calm himself for what he knew was going to be inevitable. He was convinced he deserved this, knew it in both his heart and his soul that this was for the best. If everyone around him was going to suffer in his presence and hurl in his aura, then it was only fair that he removed himself in a way that reassured them they could stand tall, that they could be healthy, that they could live.
But even then, he didn’t know what he was breathing so hard for. He didn’t know why he had to grip the pill bottle until his knuckles showed white because he was sweating so much. He didn’t know why his body felt as if someone ran a thread through it and cinched it shut, why his throat felt like a boulder, why his eyes stung in defiance of what he was about to do.
Just fucking do it already, he cursed to himself, forcing his mind past the fear that ran so rampantly in his chest and threw the top of the bottle across the room, landing with a sharp clank on the adjacent wall. A large pile of antidepressants fell into his shaking hand, and something about the sight of it made him want to churn.
But why? What kind of fear and amount of being scared did someone like Megumi deserve to feel? If he deserved anything at all, it was the fact that he was going to die tonight, and there was nothing that could prevent it all from happening.
At least, that’s what he told himself.
Because as hard as he tried to move his forearm and throw his hand to his mouth and dunk all the pills down his throat, he just couldn’t. Every part of him froze in fear as he fought against his innate, human desire to live, as if his body was full of grenade pins that would go off if he even dared to move. His mind and his body were at war, and he wanted nothing more than to just do it, let it all end.
The longer he sat and struggled against himself, the more overwhelming all of it became. He began shifting profusely on the floor, his knees and calves burning in the position he was sitting in, quiet sobs filling the dim room as hot tears trickled down his cheeks. The pills felt heavier in his hand now, like they are calling his name, telling him to man up and do it.
Do it.
Do it, Megumi.
Come on.
At last, he couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t stand the never-ending battle he was fighting against everything and nothing, he was sick of existing and having hope for a better future that would never arrive, sick of grieving the loss of the people he loved most yet who passed away by his hands, exhausted in this body and this life and waiting and waiting and waiting.
Forcing his hand up to his face, he threw his head back and let the pills fall into his mouth and–
“Megumi! Are you in there?!”
The sudden pounding on his front door and that voice that he couldn’t quite put a face to startled him, sending him lurching forward and hurling all of the pills out of his mouth. He gagged and coughed as they landed silently in front of him, scattered in front of him like shards of glass. Bracing himself on his hands, he breathed heavily, panting like a rabid dog, choosing to ignore the way his entire body shook with adrenaline yet also more conscious of it now knowing there is someone who is about to see him like this.
“Megumi!?” the voice called out again, a couple knocks following his name, more gentle this time. “I’ve been calling you, are you okay?!”
His eyes widened in equal parts realization and horror.
“I wanted to see if you wanted to watch a movie with me!”
He sat up in acceptance of the situation, retaliation of his ill-fated mind.
Yuuji.
“Megumi, if you don’t answer me, I’m coming i–”
“Please don’t,” he bit out, his voice coming out hoarse in effect of the fact that he just tried to swallow a handful of antidepressants.
“What?” Yuuji asked through the door, his honeymilk voice that Megumi grew to love so much, soothing him in so many ways that he knew he never deserved. “What’s going on?”
“Just–” he ferociously started picking up the pills from the carpet and dropping them in the pockets of his sweats–maybe he should’ve put them back into the bottle, but he didn’t know where it was now. “Fuck, give me a sec–”
“Megumi, you’re scaring me, I’m coming in!”
“No, wai–”
The thing about Yuuji Itadori, was the fact that Megumi could never argue against him.
Not when it was early morning and Megumi’s entire body groaned in protest against him, begging him to ignore Yuuji’s pleas to come work out or spar with him. Not when Megumi wanted to go home and sleep and yet Yuuji wanted someone to go to the local diner with him for lunch. Not when Yuuji knew Megumi hadn’t eaten all day, not when Megumi was upset and Yuuji was trying to reach him, clawing past the walls he spent so long building up and yet here Yuuji was, sending them tumbling down to dust with the brightest smile on his face.
And against every single inhibition, he let it all happen.
It happened even now, as Megumi’s head snapped up to the door when he heard it slam against the drywall. He looked up to see Yuuji’s figure standing in his doorway, tank top and sweatpants disheveled as if he had just risen from sleep, fists clenched at his sides as he stared down at him with wide, concerned eyes.
It was truly only a couple seconds, but it felt like a millennium before Yuuji began to take slow steps towards Megumi, fearing that if he moved too quick, something in the air would snap and Megumi would fall away from him.
Megumi’s eyes traveled back down to the carpet as Yuuji got closer. He couldn’t bear looking at him anymore, not out of embarrassment or shame, but out of the fact that no matter how many pills he scooped up into his pocket, he knew that Yuuji probably knew why he sat here, slumped on the floor.
There was no point lying to someone like him, who had seen the worst of the worst and can thus see through it all.
Megumi’s heart clenched uncomfortably when Yuuji crouched down beside him, his large, calloused hand finding his back. “Megumi, what’s going on?”
Before Yuuji even spoke, Megumi felt his eyes bubbling with fresh tears, his throat seeming to close up in complete betrayal of himself. It hurt so bad to hurt like this, and yet if anyone asked him, after everything he had been through and all the loved ones he had lost, a part of him believed that being cared for like this hurt more. Something about love didn’t sit right in his soul, it didn’t belong and he didn’t deserve it.
But even then, Yuuji still loved him, and that might have been the worst of it all.
“Megumi, please talk to me, it’s okay, I’m right h–”
He didn’t realize he had started crying until a quiet sob escaped him, his whole body jolting with the force of it. He attempted to curl in on himself, his body moving without his consent, but sooner did he find himself being wrapped in Yuuji’s embrace as his big, warm, loving arms found their way around his cold, scared body. Yuuji held him tight, so tight that Megumi couldn’t move, couldn’t try to wriggle away even if he wanted to.
But that was the thing.
Even if the presence of love made him sick, even if he never admitted it out loud, he never, ever wanted it to leave. Only then did he wish that he could stay here forever; on the rough carpet of his bedroom floor, the warm light of the bedside lamp washing over the two boys, settling into Yuuji’s embrace like it belonged there.
But maybe it did. Maybe there was still room for Megumi to be loved, maybe there was still a chance for him to rip apart the rest of the barrier he built around himself and let Yuuji in.
So he shifted himself next to Yuuji, crawling into his lap and wrapping his arms around Yuuji’s neck. He buried his face into the crook of Yuuji’s neck, unable to deny the urge to inhale his air when he caught the faint remnants of worn-out cologne on Yuuji’s skin.
And Yuuji hugged him back with just as much force, holding him even tighter now, his head relaxing against Megumi’s shoulder. “You don’t have to do that, Megumi.”
Of course he knows, Megumi thought, but it didn’t hurt him to know that. He thought it should, he always assumed that if Yuuji ever found out about this, he would surely be upset with him. But that was who Yuuji was: an ever-understanding, compassionate, empathetic person, and if anyone asked Megumi to describe him in one way, he would say that Yuuji Itadori was about as human as humanity could get.
But he thought it would be entirely too cheesy to say it aloud, way too embarrassing to turn to him and say I think you’re very human, more human than the others –it made him smile against Yuuji’s shoulder because of how cringy it sounded in his head.
And of course, because Yuuji was pure sunlight and love, felt Megumi’s smile on his skin. He sighed in contentment, his hold on Megumi softening as his head turned to nuzzle on the side of his head.
And Megumi let him, just as he let him melt all the negativity out of his body, inch by inch, piece by horrid piece.
“There’s my Megumi,” Yuuji whispered. “I missed you, dear.”
Megumi decided then, kneeling on that carpet that was sure to give him burns, that if all he could ever be was Yuuji’s, then there was nothing more he could ever think to ask for.