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They were bound to die. Both of them knew this living in an infinitely cursed world. They acknowledged it like a constant slap to the face. It's brutal to be fighting for your life at 15, and simultaneously it’s even more surreal being married before 16.
Megumi stood before Yuji, bearing nothing but a pathetic smile and a neatly folded up paper ring in his hand. The dim campfire below provides enough light to see the miniscule tears and dirt that littered his creation. It was a stupid, stupid proposal. Twisted in every sense, and they really haven’t even been together that long.
But… it just all happened so quickly.
“… So start by saving me, Itadori..!”
The branding of Megumi's hand burned into his arm, leaving a lasting impression only in his mind after pulling away.. Yuji's throat tightened, his staggered breathing only intensified by the sheer weight of his partner’s demands. Of course… What else could he do but obey? This slap in the face came back to him, knocking more air out of his lungs as tears welled up in his eyes.
“I'm gonna get you killed…” His voice was so meek, like a child knowing he’s in deep shit by the time he got home. “I- I can’t -“ the fear in his heart swells, overflowing all his senses. “… Not you- please God, not you…”
And he wasn’t lying, Yuji couldn’t do it. He wouldn't be able to handle the inevitable despair to come, not like he was able to bear all his other losses. His grandfather passed quietly, giving Yuji an inheritance of an increasingly impossible dying wish. Nanami left him with vague words, a legacy so heavy he wished that he would’ve just been cursed instead. Gojo sealed away and completely unreachable, just another adult who left him behind and alone again. And Kugisaki…
Oh Kugisaki, an angel from heaven. Blessing in disguise, pain in the ass like no other. She didn’t have the luxury to go out fighting in a brilliant sacrifice, in flames to save one of her friends, someone she loved. No, she died suddenly, with no meaning whatsoever. No final hurrah. A simple, cold slap to the face. That was it. So no, he couldn’t lose Megumi.
“If you continue to beg like that, you’ve already lost me-“
“Don’t say that.”
“It’s true! You’re so self-righteous that you would sacrifice yourself for me any goddamn day!”
“Of course I'd sacrifice myself for you-!”
“-That's it, Itadori. you would.”
Silence. A quiet so loud the cracks of the expanding flames below them were like gun shots in an enclosed room. Yuta had been long gone, giving the two some space to talk after their intense first conversation with each other since Shibuya. Still, their clashing echoed from down the hall of the abandoned building.
Megumi groans, throwing up his hands and pacing around the fire.
“I can’t say shit, I'm just as much of a selfish hypocrite as you are.”
More silence. There’s a ringing in his ears that grows louder with every second.
”…Say something, Itadori…”
Only the ambient sounds of the room followed Megumi's plea, yet were muffled out by his boiling frustration. It bubbled, threatening to overflow if this dumbass didn't start talking. It rushed into his bloodstream, his whole body warming itself up as it prepared for impending doom.
”Why the fuck are you trying to leave me behind?!”
Megumi couldn't begin to fathom what could possibly be going through the mind of the man in front of him. He couldn't fathom why he would be hesitant about standing by Megumi’s side. Worst of all, he couldn't fathom why this dug so deep under his skin.
And then it hit him.
The unforgiving, undeniable truth.
He was irrefutably in love, they both were.
It was a love so fierce, possessive in all the wrong ways, and addictive in all of the right ones. They were both drowning in each other, two sacred souls bound together by the same gruesome outcome: a meaningless death. It was a horrifying realization, really, because with this kind of love, it doesn’t matter what happens after the inevitable - they would be forever entwined with one another, cursing the other with their own selfish hearts.
A crinkle beneath Megumi's feet snaps him out of his trance. A lightly torn up piece of paper lays before him, the imprint of his shoes somehow very prominent against the other dirt and grime on it.
“Fushigu-“
“Let's get married, Ita-… Yuji.”
Yuji stilled. Marriage? Is this a fucking joke? No, it couldn’t be. But Fushiguro couldn’t be serious about that. Shock, guilt, and slight resentment pulled his eyes up to meet emerald green and-
Oh- He was serious. Megumi wasn’t kidding, he really wanted this.
What the fuck-
“-is wrong with you…?”
If Yuji hadn’t been emotionally bitch slapped before, now was the time, and a very fitting time at that. Now, truly, Megumi is a good boy. Sure he’s had his moments and tussled with trifling kids in middle school, but he’s reformed now! And god, Yuji was glad he was.
Every built up emotion from the past few… days? weeks? The time didn’t even matter anymore, it all boiled to surface level, rising with the violent urge to vomit out his insides and settling within the back of his throat.
Megumi snapped Yuji back to this strange reality, urging, “We don’t have time to waste denying or regretting anything, Yuji. As soon as we step out of this building and meet with Tengen, we enter the culling game, where it's us against the world and we may not come out alive.”
A wave of guilt shocked his system, leaving nothing but a pitiful look on Yuji's face. It's sickening.
He can't deny that he loves Megumi. He'll be the first to admit it and the last to be damned from it. It transcends any sensation he’s ever been so overcome with, and if he was completely honest with himself, he did wanna marry Megumi.
Yuji's fantasies of their ceremony would hit him late at night, offering him some form of solace after a rough mission. It’s not the most lavish scene, but definitely not a courthouse wedding. No, in a small cathedral, or on the beach like they do in those cheesy American rom-coms, the ones he would force Megumi to watch with him despite his protests. Something intimate. Kugisaki would be Yuji's best woman, fixing up his hair just right because she always knew how to clean him up. Finding some of her many perfumes and cologne’s to layer and spray onto him to make him irresistibly delicious walking down the aisle. His best men, Todo and Choso, ensured that his suit was perfectly pressed and no sudden stains appeared on the expensive white dress shirt gifted by Gojo (“Something old”, as he said). Choso ran around the venue for last minute alterations and having the smallest breakdown possible because this was his little brother's wedding.
Oh my god.
His little brother was getting married!!
No time to think- everything had to be perfect, because that’s Choso's destined responsibility as the oldest brother, guiding his next of kin.
Tsumiki would be Megumi’s best woman, shedding tears of joy with Gojo because her shithead little brother is getting married. No longer is he the angry, avoidant step brother, but a flourishing young man, and a formidable sorcerer who, in the midst of chaos, continues to exhibit the humanity of mankind. they would’ve become the best of friends despite their upbringing. Meanwhile, Gojo would taunt him about the negligible wrinkles on his shirt while telling him to fix up his hair for once in his life (and eventually redoing it himself) because never in hell would he settle for Megumi feeling anything less than handsome. And despite all these reprimands, he would sit down in that pew and take a good look at Megumi, his sassy little boy. The same boy who would come crying to him when he fell down and scraped his knee on the kitchen floor. The same boy who would beg both him and his sister to be up for “five more minutes” and end up falling asleep on Gojo’s lap less than a minute after asking.
He would look at who was once his not-so-gentle boy, now a fine man, waiting by the altar for his groom.
Would it be pride? Joy? There were no words to describe the swelling of his heart.
It will be gorgeous.
It could’ve been gorgeous.
It should’ve been gorgeous.
It should've been.
Instead, he’s standing over the unwavering fire in a dingy ass building across from Megumi, the duo putting the final folds into each other’s paper rings as small pebbles of the crumbling concrete above become entangled into their hair.
Yuji hesitantly calls, "you done yet?”
“Yeah.”
A breath. Yuji studies the ring Megumi made, the neat creases tucked into each other precisely. It looks amazing compared to his, folded sloppily despite his genuine efforts to make it worthy of resting on Megumi's finger. Megumi gazes at the unrefined paper ring and chuckles softly, turning and hiding his face into the collar of his uniform in a weak attempt to stifle his amusement.
“Oh so its funny huh?”
“-I’m not laughing.” His mouth betrays him, small fits of laughter escaping his throat. He pauses again, takes a second to regain himself, and shakes his head. “It’s not funny. I think it looks great.”
“Just put the damn ring on, Megumi..!” Yuji laughs softly, and the world stops turning for what feels like forever. They laugh at each other, smiling like they aren’t making a binding vow to one another, giggling as if everything was normal. To them it was, it felt so normal. It was childish and silly, yet so utterly natural. The scars beneath Yuji's eyes crinkled and smiled with the curl of his mouth. Megumi somehow lit up the place even more, laughter making the room less unwelcoming.
Megumi turns his palm face up to rest Yuji's hand on top of. The fervorous fire crackles below them, warmth surrounding the bottom of his hand as Yuji spreads his finger apart.
“In sickness and in health…” the ring slides onto the base of his finger.
crack!
They switch places, Yuji now holding out his palm for his love..
crack! crack!
He can feel something stirring below. Just barely noticeable.
He slides the messily made ring on.
“‘Til death do us part.”
Their fingers entwined with one another’s, foreheads bumping against each other.
A small eye peaks out from the left side of Yuji's face, just barely noticeable from the close contact.
“I do…” Megumi whispers. “Do you..?”
All eyes land on Megumi. Yuji's stomach churns.
He’s watching...
…and there’s nothing he can do about it.
There was no going back.
“…I do.”
These vows sealed a hopeful promise against all odds of a cruel, cursed world, bound by death.
And so it will be.