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Summary
The table groans beneath the weight of far too much food — more food than Megumi might have consumed in the past week, if not the past month. Delicate white flowers steam gently beneath his gaze, as do the reds and creams of the largest dishes on the table. It stretches so far into the distance that Megumi can’t see the ends of the table — can’t even really see much of the table, with how laden it is — and he swallows a mouthful of saliva even as he takes a step back from it.
He knows it’s not real. It’s clearly a dream concocted by his starving subconscious, but even then… What’s the point in eating his fill here when he would wake up and be afflicted with hunger once more?
“What’s the harm in indulging a little, even if it’s not real?”
There are soulmates who are two halves of a whole, perfect and perfectly content when they are together. The lucky few are envied but ultimately treasured in ways that the average human aren't.
And then there are Fushiguro Megumi and Ryoumen Sukuna.