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Only a few things truly get Megumi riled up; he’s not overly sensitive about most matters, and he believes he shouldn't waste energy on things that aren’t worth his attention. However, this particular instance quickly got into his head.
“I’ve been afraid of her…replacing Kugisaki.”
What is he saying? A replacement? Replace Kugisaki?
He must be hearing wrong. Disbelief painted Megumi’s face, then for a brief moment, he saw red and wanted nothing more than to lash out at Yuuji.
How dare you… How could you even think about this?
He stopped his fist from flying at Yuuji and stepped back lest he hurt his friend for just thinking that way.
She’s not dead, she’s just…
Megumi struggled to find a word to describe what had happened to their friend. Jumping from one word to the next, his mind was a shamble, frantic from justifying that there was hope. There needed to be. She can’t be dead just like that. No.
She’s just… away? On pause? In a temporary space? She’s…
She’s just locked out.
Early September 2018
“Fushiguro, why did you become a sorcerer?” Nobara asked in between puffs of breath.
Trying to steady his own breathing, Megumi looked beside him and saw that the girl was genuinely curious, “Really? You’re asking this now?”
“Why not? Is there some deep reason that we need to do this as a late-night conversation?”
Megumi stared at her, then stared down the road they were running on. The timing of the question would indicate that she’s bored or tired, and she just didn’t want to admit it.
It's probably time for a break. We've already run for around eight kilometers, Megumi concluded.
He started slowing down to a walking pace and pointed ahead of them, “Let’s take a break on that bench.”
“Geez, about time,” Nobara matched his pace, grumbling under her breath.
The Goodwill Event was fast approaching. Nothing like a bond formed through shared trauma allowed the teenagers to develop a mutual understanding, motivating them to train harder and become stronger. Not just for the event.
The park closest to the school was, as expected, not nearby at all, but a change of scenery now and then wasn’t bad. The first-years enjoyed training in the almost-empty lot whenever the second-years were away. Finally able to enjoy the breeze that only late afternoons in Summer can bring, the girl brought up her question again, “So why? You already know my reason.”
An incredible reason, Megumi thought. He respected it, and it gave him a sense of pride in her. Not many can leave a safe place to pursue their dream. Only the truly committed and stubborn can make it a reality.
“Mine’s nothing special, really. There was a deal Gojo-sensei made that forced me to become a sorcerer, but I think I would have become one eventually anyway.”
Nobara sat down once they reached the bench, still waiting for him to finish.
“I just want to save people, that’s all.”
Nobara nodded like she already expected his answer, “That’s pretty noble of you.”
“Not really..." Megumi turned to a vending machine beside the bench and bought a bottle of water. “I choose the people I want to save.”
Almost didn’t save you that one time.
“Don’t be so humble, Fushiguro.” Nobara laughed lightly, “Actually, I’m not surprised. You’re just a good person.”
Sitting beside her, he was looking at her and wondering how she had come to that conclusion. Good isn’t what you describe someone who would willingly let someone die if he gets to save someone else.
Sensing his confusion, Nobara explained, “Despite all that, the bottom line is you still want to help people, right? What bad person does that?”
Shit. There she goes again, Megumi thought.
“It’s just that you have a different way of thinking. Selfish, sure. But you’re not evil because of that.”
Why does she have to be so…
“With that overthinker brain of yours, you just weigh in all considerations to see who deserves it more. Simple.”
So accepting?
Nobara smiled at him so brightly that he thought the sun was right there, yet even the sunset couldn’t compare to how radiant she was at that moment. She was glowing, not just with the sheen of her sweat, but glowing like she was talking to her favorite person about her favorite subject.
“Looks like we both have self-serving reasons, Fushiguro!”
He thought his face burned looking directly at her, so he shielded his flaring face by looking ahead in the field and mumbled, “You’re not going to argue with my overthinker brain?”
“Unless you’re incredibly wrong or delusional about something, I’m not here to change you, Fushiguro.”
The response was so unapologetically her, and Megumi was reminded of why he admired her. As simple as her reply, Megumi felt he belonged. Someone was looking at him through a window, seeing who he was. Transparent and clear. Only Nobara didn't just look. Nobara opened the window, jumped over, and let herself into his world.
The boy wonders if locks actually work on her. Her unyielding attitude can break through even the toughest obstacles, and she seizes opportunities and shows everyone she deserves them… She also once told him that she knew how to pick locks, which allowed them to enter the storage shed where the Jujutsu High staff kept all the instant ramen that the pantry lacked. It was the start of many midnight snack heists around campus.
“Anymore questions?” Megumi smiled softly, one side going up to a smirk. He anticipated the next one would either be philosophical or downright ridiculous.
In the couple of months he had known her, there would always be a question or a request each day, and every day he would indulge her. The boy was not sure why; perhaps her insistent pestering wore him down, or he wished to stop her jeering and prove to her that he could do something. He could never say no to Nobara unless it involved public scrutiny. But even then, it would take a lot of Megumi’s willpower to put his foot down against Nobara’s weaponized charm.
At first, it was annoying. Now that Yuuji wasn’t there to be a buffer for him, he became the main target of her whims. But now, he found himself invested in the way Nobara’s mind works, no matter how crazy it may seem. Time and proximity were strange that way, reshaping circumstances and perspectives.
“Well…” Nobara’s eyes started to look around as if a question could magically pop up and give her more of an excuse to sit down. “What do you think will happen once we die?”
The field where the teenagers were taking a break was slowly getting soaked orange by the setting sun. Megumi opened his water bottle and passed it to Nobara, who drank from it, not caring that it was his ¥150 that had been used to buy the drink.
“Can’t say I have tried dying before, but I’ll let you know how it is when I do.”
She passed back his bottle and wiped at her chin, “Oh, har har har, ever heard of an imagination?”
Megumi drank from his bottle as well, contemplating the question. As Jujutsu sorcerers, they were merely students, almost like foot soldiers in a broken system, totally dispensable. There wasn’t much to think about. He passed back his bottle to see if she wanted to drink more, so she accepted and chugged the remaining water.
“Even if we die, someone, somehow, will do our work for us. So, unless we’re Gojo sensei, not much will change, in my opinion.”
Nobara was silent, pondering, but not refuting his claim. The now-empty water bottle was held between her hands.
“But if you’re worried, I’m sure the people you’ll leave behind will remember you, Kugisaki.” He shyly added after a few seconds, “I’ll remember you.” Try as he might, she’s hard to forget.
Megumi took the empty water bottle from her, fingers subtly brushing hers, and handed it to his newly summoned Divine Dog. The teenagers watched as the dog ran to dispose of it in a trash bin. After getting a bit distracted by a small flock of birds nearby, the black dog returned with its tail wagging, having accomplished its task.
Nobara was quiet, and Megumi knew to take precautions whenever she was like this. He was giving the dog its well-deserved head pats when she asked, “When I die, will you cry for me?”
The young man whipped his head and looked at her as if the question personally offended him. Even the dog became quiet and looked at her while tilting its head. Nobara seemed surprised at the reaction and explained, “It’s just that you didn’t show the slightest bit of tears when Itadori passed, so I was wondering if you’ll have the same response to me.”
Megumi knew very early on that he shouldn’t grow attached to people, especially to those he worked with. He knew attachment could be a possible weakness in their line of work.
This girl, whom he has known for close to three months now, even longer than Yuuji, is probably the closest thing he can call a living and breathing “close friend.” By right, they could call each other that. They studied together, ate together, gossiped together, went to places together — heck, they even bled together.
They were just two teenagers together.
Was it a mistake on his part to let her in? Those three words from her, ‘when I die’, made him extremely uneasy. Imagining her on her deathbed left something hollow in him, and at the same time, something reached in and gripped his heart with its cold hand. Nobara lying there colorless, still, and quiet, was unthinkable.
If she died, crying would be an understatement. He knew he would be ruined. His sister wasn’t waking up anytime soon, and he had already lost a friend; he wasn't about to lose this one as well.
Well, he’s not about to admit to her face that he will cry.
“You’re way over in your head. Just think you’re gonna live forever and permanently annoy everyone.”
“Idiot,” Nobara scoffed at him, “Nothing’s permanent.”
Her fringe fell and blocked the left side of her face, the side where Megumi sat. He reached out to put her hair back so he could see her clearly, but the hand lingered behind her ear after. Surprised, Nobara looked at him with her wide brown eyes. Neither moving to tell him off, nor moving away from his hand. Just waiting.
He couldn’t figure out why he did that. He could blame his hand for acting on its own, but right now, he couldn’t deny that it felt like the right thing to do. His hand was supposed to be there, but he can’t explain why.
Reluctantly pulling his hand back, he finally said, “Who knows? We haven't tried dying yet, so maybe death isn’t permanent.”
It took Nobara a few seconds longer than normal to respond while playfully shoving his shoulder, “Wow, you’re kind of an optimist, huh?” She laughed, not knowing she caused a mental crisis for Megumi just moments ago, but seeing her like this put him at ease, and a soft smile escaped him.
“You can survive this hellscape,” Megumi reassured her, “You’re tougher and more resilient than most people I know.”
They held their gazes together as the air between them surged with something magnetic. Megumi could feel his heart beating more heavily with the way his companion was looking at him, soft and appreciative. The boy couldn’t describe it exactly, but he felt overwhelmed and comforted at the same time.
Shit. This is… dangerous?
Trying to control his face and calm his heart, he said, “Even if you’re seriously injured, I don’t think that will be the end of you. The strongest of weeds hardly die after all.”
“Hey. Watch it.”
“We still have two more kilometers to go, get up.” Megumi stretched his hands up when he stood, warming up his body again. Nobara whined, wanting to rest more, and called him a ‘show-off’ in the process.
“Fine. I’m gonna leave you behind and go get dinner by myself,” Megumi started running again with his Divine Dog beside him.
“OKAY, WAIT! You promised you’ll get me sushi!”
He did no such thing. Though he vaguely remembered her showing him an ad about the new and trendy sushi place in Ueno earlier. Megumi sighed, but he couldn’t help but let his lips curl upward. It might as well be a promise now.
A few moments later, Nobara caught up with them and said something that hurt him, but not as much as it hurt her.
“Just so you know, if you suddenly died on me, I won’t be able to take it well.” Nobara met his eyes, but turned away to hide the ache, “And I honestly don’t know if I will recover.”
Megumi tried to reply because he didn’t like how she frowned at him or hid from him, but he didn’t know the right words to say. He wasn’t sure how to process those words from her. Not waiting for a response, Nobara ran ahead, not looking back once.
The flying movement from above brought him back from the memory, reminding him of Yuuji’s dilemma.
“Don’t be stupid,” he told Yuuji after a pause. “No one is getting replaced.”
Kugisaki’s state of suspended death will require a miracle. They both knew that it wouldn’t be easy. She’s dead, but also not dead—a paradox made possible by the efforts of Arata.
Megumi was grateful that Yuuji didn’t have to see her when the staff didn’t know where to put her between the morgue and the hospital. When she was placed on the cold examination table, as if she were ready to be embalmed. When Principal Yaga almost pummeled a hospital administrator when they insisted there was nothing that could be done for her anymore.
Yuuji didn’t know how many hours Megumi stayed behind waiting by her hospital door, waiting for news. How he pleaded with Shoko-san to wake her up or to give him anything, any hope, to cling to. How Megumi agonized over what to say to Yuuji about Nobara, and, in the end, couldn’t even say anything to him at all.
Yuuji is someone who has faith in people. The kind of guy who knows how to look for the good in others and believes in their capabilities. Still, Megumi knew Yuuji had a complicated side to him as well, like how he blamed himself for many things, Nobara’s fate being one of them, even though he was a victim himself. It was a kindness that he didn’t see her after the Shibuya incident. It would break Megumi twice over if he saw his friend crumble even further.
Perhaps Yuuji had the same thought as him, that it would have been less cruel for Nobara and for everyone else if she passed away that night in Shibuya. No more pain. No more waiting. No false hope, only for it to be crushed when death became the final answer.
They missed her. He missed her loud laughter echoing through the halls, the calls she demanded he answer in the first few rings, having something to do on weekends before everything went down the drain, and having less of a routine in his life because she was overly spontaneous. He missed the random questions she would throw his way, and he missed answering her sarcastically to see more reactions out of her.
They still could’ve done so many things together.
A lot is happening right now, and the sooner they finish this, the sooner they can contemplate their circumstances. The sooner they save Tsumiki… the sooner they free Gojo-sensei… the sooner he can be by her side again. Soon… soon… soon. When is it ever ‘now’?
How long… how long until I see you again?
Megumi was certain about one thing, though. You don't replace a friend with another friend. She already made a seat for herself, and whether she survives or not, which she will, the seat stays.
Yuuji finally answered him, “You’re right, I’ll apologize to Kurusu later.” It was odd how his friend was somewhat hostile towards their new ally, but now he understood why.
“You better.” Remembering he got mad at Yuuji’s confession, Megumi muttered, “And sorry.”
“For what?”
“Nevermind. Let’s just go.”
The Angel descended from above, halting the conversation. While his companions were talking, Megumi couldn’t help but let his mind wander to Nobara. The hollow feeling came back with its ice-cold grip on his heart. Ever since Shibuya, it haunted him day and night, and each day it grew stronger.
He closed his eyes and prayed to whatever god pitied him enough that it wouldn’t end in death, just like what they talked about on that day last Summer. But at that moment, only a memory surfaced.
The memory was a reminder that it’s alright to be selfish because he was a good person, and good people deserve good things.
The memory made him promise himself that he should do what he must now in this sick game because there was someone he was dying to see after all this.
It was the only thing that could strengthen and shatter his resolve at the same time—he remembered the perfect smile that rivaled the sunset.