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Megumi hated hospitals.
The smell, too clean, too sharp clung to the back of his throat no matter how many times he breathed through his mouth. The hum of cursed energy barriers layered over antiseptic air made his temples ache. Every hallway echoed, even when no one was walking in them, like the building itself was holding its breath.
He sat stiffly in the chair beside Tsumiki’s bed, hands clenched in his lap.
She looked… wrong.
Not injured. Not bleeding. Not bruised.
Just sleeping.
Too still.
Dark hair spread across the pillow, lashes resting against pale cheeks, chest rising slow and steady. If Megumi hadn’t known better—if he hadn’t felt the curse curling around her soul like invisible chains—he might have thought, she was only exhausted.
That somehow made it worse.
A curtain of light shimmered around the bed, protective talismans embedded in the floor. Ofuda hung from the IV stand. There were seals etched into the wall, barely visible unless you knew what to look for.
All of it because of him.
Megumi stared at his shoes.
He replayed everything in his head for what felt like the thousandth time.
The missions he’d taken alone.
The fights he’d escalated instead of avoiding.
The curses he’d drawn out into the open.
The attention.
If he hadn’t become a sorcerer… if he’d stayed normal… if he hadn’t—
His jaw tightened.
Tsumiki had never asked for this.
She had only wanted him to come home on time. To eat dinner. To do homework. To stop getting hurt.
Now she was lying in a reinforced room surrounded by barriers because something had latched onto her existence.
Because of the world he was part of.
Because of him.
His fingers curled so tightly his nails dug into his palms.
“Oi, Megumiiiiii.”
The sing-song voice drifted in from the doorway like a bubble floating into a grave.
Megumi didn’t look up.
Gojo Satoru leaned against the doorframe, hands in his pockets, blindfold in place as usual. His posture was lazy, almost comically relaxed compared to the tension choking the room.
“I brought snacks,” Satoru added cheerfully. “And by snacks, I mean I ate them on the way, but spiritually, I brought snacks.”
Megumi’s shoulders twitched.
“…Go away.”
Satoru blinked once.
Then twice.
“Ohhh, spicy today,” he hummed. “Did I interrupt brooding time? Because wow, you’re setting a personal record.”
Megumi finally glanced at him, eyes sharp and bloodshot from lack of sleep.
“I said go away.”
Satoru straightened slightly.
Still smiling.
But quieter now.
“Hey,” he said, tone gentler. “I just came to check on you.”
Megumi scoffed.
“Don’t.”
“Don’t… what?”
“Don’t pretend.”
Satoru tilted his head. “Pretend to…?”
“That you care,” Megumi snapped.
The words left his mouth sharp and sudden, even to himself.
Silence dropped between them.
Tsumiki’s monitors continued their slow, steady beeping.
Satoru didn’t move for a second.
Then he sighed.
“Kid,” he said lightly, “if I didn’t care, I wouldn’t be here annoying you, would I?”
Megumi looked away again.
His voice came out low and rough. “You shouldn’t be.”
“Why not?”
“This is my problem.”
Satoru pushed off the doorframe and stepped inside.
“You look like you haven’t slept in two days.”
“Not your business.”
“You’re right,” Satoru replied easily. “It’s my job.”
Megumi’s jaw clenched.
“I didn’t ask you to come.”
“True. I tend to show up uninvited. It’s kind of my thing.”
Megumi stood so abruptly the chair scraped against the floor.
“Just leave!”
The sound echoed too loud in the small room.
Tsumiki didn’t stir.
Gojo raised his hands a little, palms open.
“Whoa. Easy.”
Megumi glared at him.
“You think this is funny?”
Satoru’s smile softened. “No.”
“Then stop acting like it!”
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are!” Megumi’s voice cracked despite himself. “You always do this—joke around like nothing matters, like this is just another stupid mission—”
Satoru's tone stayed calm. “Megumi.”
“She’s like this because of me!”
There it was.
The room felt smaller.
Satoru's expression shifted, still gentle, but no longer playful.
“That’s not—”
“I brought it home,” Megumi continued, words tumbling out fast and jagged. “I attracted something. I didn’t notice. I didn’t protect her. I—”
He swallowed.
His throat burned.
“I should’ve done better.”
Satoru stepped closer.
“Hey.”
Megumi shook his head violently. “Don’t.”
Satoru reached for his shoulder.
Megumi slapped his hand away.
“I said don’t touch me!”
Satoru froze.
The air tightened.
“…Megumi.”
“Get away from me!”
Satoru straightened fully now.
Still calm.
But there was something heavier behind it.
“Okay,” he said slowly. “You’re upset. I get that.”
“You don’t get anything.”
“Sure I do.”
“No, you don’t!” Megumi snapped. “You’re strong enough to fix everything. You don’t lose people. You don’t—”
“That’s not true.”
Megumi laughed bitterly.
“Yeah? Then where were you when she got cursed?”
The words hit harder than he meant them to.
Satoru's mouth opened—and Megumi well...he lunged.
It was instinct more than thought.
He grabbed at Satoru’s sleeve, teeth sinking into exposed skin near his wrist.
Hard.
Satoru sucked in a sharp breath.
“—Hey!”
He pulled back.
Megumi barely registered what he’d done before hands caught him.
Strong.
Unyielding.
Satoru twisted, guiding Megumi backward until his shoulders hit the wall.
In one smooth motion, Satoru pinned both of Megumi’s wrists beside his head.
Not rough.
Not gentle either.
Immovable.
Megumi struggled instantly, panic flaring.
“Let go!”
“Megumi.”
Satoru’s voice had changed.
Gone was the joking lilt.
Gone was the airy teasing.
It was low.
Dead calm.
“Stop.”
Megumi thrashed, but Satoru didn’t budge.
“You bit me,” Satoru said quietly.
Megumi’s chest heaved.
“I—”
“That’s not okay.”
“Let go of me!”
“No.”
Megumi froze.
Satoru leaned down just enough that Megumi could feel his presence, overwhelming and solid.
“If you were anyone else,” Satoru continued evenly, “you’d be on the floor right now.”
Megumi swallowed.
Satoru’s grip tightened—not painful, just firm.
“Right now, you’re acting out because you’re hurting,” Satoru said. “But that doesn’t mean you get to attack people.”
Megumi’s eyes stung.
“I didn’t—”
“You did.”
Satoru exhaled slowly.
“And if you were my kid—and you are under my care—this is where I’d discipline you.”
Megumi’s breath caught.
“…Discipline?”
Satoru’s tone didn’t change.
“I’m talking about a spanking.”
Megumi’s face drained of color.
“You—what?”
“Not here,” Satoru added calmly. “That would be disrespectful to Tsumiki.”
Megumi’s pulse roared in his ears.
“I—I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “I didn’t mean it, I wasn’t thinking—”
Satoru held him there another second.
Then—
He released him.
“Room down the hall,” Satoru said quietly. “Now.”
Megumi’s legs felt shaky.
“…Please.”
Satoru didn’t raise his voice.
“I gave you chances to calm down.”
Megumi’s eyes burned.
“…I’m sorry.”
Satoru looked at him for a long moment.
Then he turned.
Megumi followed, numb.
—
They didn’t go far.
When they came back later, Megumi didn’t speak.
He couldn’t.
His eyes were red.
His shoulders trembled.
He walked stiffly, like every step hurt.
Satoru guided him into one of the empty recovery rooms and sat him gently on the bed.
Megumi curled inward immediately, arms hugging his middle.
“…It hurts,” he muttered, voice cracking.
Satoru closed the door behind them.
The sound was soft.
Final.
He crossed the room and sat beside Megumi.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I know.”
Megumi sniffed hard.
“I shouldn’t have—”
“I know.”
“I bit you.”
“I know.”
Megumi’s lip wobbled.
“I’m sorry.”
This time, it wasn’t sharp.
It wasn’t defensive.
It fell out of him in pieces.
Satoru sighed.
Not frustrated.
Tired.
He reached out slowly, giving Megumi time to pull away.
Megumi didn’t.
Satoru rested a hand between his shoulder blades.
“…You scared me,” Megumi whispered.
Gojo’s hand paused.
“…Good,” he said softly. “That means you understand I was serious.”
Megumi nodded weakly.
His eyes burned.
“I didn’t mean any of that stuff.”
“I know.”
“I was just—”
“Hurting.”
Megumi choked.
“…I can’t lose her.”
Satoru’s hand slid up, fingers threading into Megumi’s hair.
“You’re not going to.”
“You don’t know that.”
Satoru pulled him gently—carefully—into his chest.
Megumi resisted for half a second.
Then collapsed into him.
Satoru wrapped both arms around him.
Firm.
Protective.
Megumi’s face pressed into Satoru’s shirt as he finally broke.
Quiet sobs shook his frame.
“My fault,” he whispered. “It’s all my fault.”
Satoru held him tighter.
“No.”
Megumi shook his head.
“Yes.”
“No,” Satoru repeated, firmer. “Curses exist whether you do or not. You didn’t choose this.”
“But I dragged it here—”
“You live here,” Satoru said. “That doesn’t make you responsible for everything bad that happens in your orbit.”
Megumi sniffed.
“My butt hurts.”
Satoru huffed a very soft, very tired laugh.
“…Yeah.”
Megumi shifted slightly and winced.
Satoru adjusted his hold immediately.
“Easy.”
“I deserved it,” Megumi muttered.
Satoru didn’t argue that part.
“You crossed a line,” he said gently. “And you needed to understand that.”
Megumi nodded into his chest.
“…I’m really sorry.”
Satoru pressed his chin lightly to the top of Megumi’s head.
“I know.”
They stayed like that.
The hum of the barriers outside.
Megumi’s breathing slowly evening out.
Satoru’s arms steady around him.
“…She’s gonna wake up,” Gojo said quietly.
Megumi hesitated.
“…Promise?”
Satoru didn’t answer right away.
Then:
“I don’t make promises I can’t keep,” he said. “But I’m doing everything I can.”
Megumi tightened his grip on Satoru’s shirt.
“…Okay.”
Satoru rubbed slow circles into his back.
“You don’t have to carry this alone.”
Megumi closed his eyes.
For the first time in hours…
He believed him.