Chapter Text
Megumi’s heart pulsed through his veins— coursing throughout his entire body as his head pounded, dragging his legs across the forest floor. He could feel his chest tighten suffocatingly and his lungs pleading for air, but he pushed on. He was only a few hundred metres away from safety.
’Of course, I had to run into a Core 3..’ he cursed in his mind, his scowl deepening. Earlier, he had accidentally stumbled onto a hoard of zombies and almost lost his pistol, which would’ve been disastrous, but he managed to lose most of the moving corpses—except for this persistent one.
His legs screamed as he sprinted across the forest. The zombie, hot on his heels, gargled incorrigible sounds as they ran like a trackstar—even with a leg bent the wrong way and a head rotated too far to the left to be considered as normal, it was like they had unmatched stamina.
He glanced down at his shotgun. Zero rounds. Even amongst all the winding trees and breathless chases he still managed to spit out a curse at the sight of the grotesque creature, almost cracking a smile about how ridiculous this situation would be if they were in a horror comedy show.
“Duck!” barked a woman, the glint of her shotgun appearing in the midst of the greenery.
Megumi didn’t need to be told twice. His legs bent onto the ground— his left knee screaming as he slammed it down on a tree root that jutted out. His head was held down by his hands, his neck straining from the sudden movement. He clenched his jaw at the pain.
What happened next was an ear-deafening shot echoing out through the forest, birds loudly squawking and scattering away from the noise. Megumi took a glance behind him—a large hole in a, presumably dead, zombie's head and allowed himself to exhale in relief, trying to suck in as much oxygen as possible before he could pass out from exhaustion. He didn’t even manage three inhales before he was yanked off the ground by a deathly grip, his shoulders likely bruised from the tight hold.
“Where’s my thanks?” breathed out the woman, blowing out the wispy smoke coming out of the nozzle of her shotgun. Her short ginger bob and smug expression were pushed into Megumi’s view, her eyes darting across his face and body. He squinted his eyes slightly, his vision still dizzy from how dehydrated he felt.
“Thanks for the save, Kugisaki” he replied rasply, attempting to wipe away the dirt off his face, which seemed to do almost nothing but spread it across his face even more.
She threw him a water pouch and gave him an exasperated look, but to Megumi, it just seemed like her way of worrying about him. Megumi wore a neutral expression as he caught it, unscrewing the lid.
“You’re very welcome, Gumi-chan” she smirked, raising an eyebrow before giving him a smack on the back, which made Megumi choke on his water. He grimaced at the nickname, questioning himself internally if he should correct her to address him by his surname, Fushiguro—but he couldn’t be bothered.
After a few minutes of scrutinising and resting, he was cleared of infection and they began to walk back to the bunker. Nobara hummed an out of tune melody, dead leaves crunching as they kicked branches and swatted overreaching plants out of their way.
“So.. what did you find?” Nobara questioned, kicking a pebble as they trudged, a familiar building appearing in their view.
Megumi cleared his throat, glancing over to Nobara. “Just some medical supplies and ammunition” he muttered, throat still a bit dry. Nobara hummed in acknowledgment, which was probably the closest someone could get as a sign of satisfaction from Nobara. Both had non verbally agreed to stay in comfortable silence until the trees cleared up to finally reach a 2 story building, teeming with human activity.
Barbed wire winded around the trees and secret traps laid around the area. A spraypainted sign saying ‘Jujutsu Refuge’ was plastered above the double doors at the entrance as people gathered around fires and logs to sit down, chat and drink.
“Yo! Megumi-chan!” sang a tall man. His white hair and striking features commanded attention amongst the both of them as he strided towards them—ruffling their hair on both their heads. Nobara swats his hand away, complaining about how he was messing up her hair and Megumi frowns.
“Hey,” Megumi muttered, “How’s Tsumiki?” he questioned, expecting the same old answer every time he came back from a trip, and he got it.
Gojo sighed, removing his hand and rubbing the back of his neck, his expression falling slightly. He readjusted his sunglasses he wore religiously, using the excuse that he was making a fashion statement every single time someone asked why.
“She’s still sleeping, but Megumi, I—“
Megumi brushed past him, the gravel scraping under the soles of his shoes. He raised his hand as a thank you before rushing to his sister's side to visit her. It’s been too long since he’d seen Tsumiki, and since he didn’t exactly trust Gojo’s judgement—he needed to confirm for his peace of mind. He speed walked through the building, the double doors flying open as he brushed past people.
“Hey, Fushiguro! Welcome back.” exclaimed Yuta, one of his seniors
“Oi, Fushiguro, where’s our greeting?” bellowed Maki, who was too busy playing card games to look up from her creaky chair. She slammed down an ace and cackled, relishing Inumaki's disappointed expression.
He nodded towards them as he headed to the makeshift sign that said ‘MEDICAL WARD’, recognising Ieiri’s voice as he turned the door knob. Megumi stepped inside to a sterile room that shone a bright white light with beds—temporarily blinding him. He scowled slightly, his eyes slowly adjusting.
“Fushiguro, welcome back” nodded Ieiri, her hands in her white lab coat. Her sunken eyebags the most noticeable feature on her tired face in the pale light as well as the classic Marlboro cigarettes scent that clung to her body 24/7. Megumi never really found out how she had an unlimited stock supply of them, nor did he intend to find out.
He nodded in response, his eyes immediately locking onto the lying woman on the bed nearby and walked over. Her pale complexion was even more obvious in the bright light, and her hair spread out around the pillow like spider webs, her expression was serene as her eyelids were closed tightly. The pale hands placed one over the other on her stomach.
Megumi breathed out a sigh of relief, noticing nothing glaringly concerning. He collapsed onto the nearby chair, his knees immediately relieved from the weight. Megumi leaned forward, his elbows propping him up on the bed. He carefully picked up her hand, as if she was glass, and held it tightly. He lowered his head so that his forehead touched the back of her hand he grasped desperately—as if she would fade away if he was to let go.
“Don’t worry, your sister has been doing okay. Her vitals have improved slightly,” Ieiri called, the trickling sound of water taking over the silence after. Footsteps clacked towards him and from his peripheral vision, he saw a white paper cup being handed to him. “Here.” She offered.
He grunted as a thank you and took the paper cup, drinking it all in one gulp. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand and turned back to the sleeping woman.
It’s been 2 years since his sister fell into a coma. One day, after coming back from foraging, she suddenly collapsed and had been reduced into this state. Megumi wasted hours of his life, trying to find the reason behind Tsumiki’s sudden deep slumber.
Every night he would sit by her side and pray to a non existent god to swap their spots. That he was the one who would likely never wake up. Tsumiki was Megumi’s only family and Megumi was Tsumiki’s. His moral compass and the only consistent thing in his life.
Shoko clicked her tongue and rubbed her eyes slightly, slowly turning around to go back to her desk. The wheels on the office chair squeaked slightly as she sat down, her hands instinctively reaching for a cigarette. Shoko sighed when she realized that there was none in her pockets. Megumi glanced over—pulling his gaze away from Tsumiki.
“I’m a bit worried about the zombies evolving into a new stage, they are starting to become more intelligent lately.” she breathed out, clearly aware of the impending doom against humanity. Megumi’s eyes glazed over the window, looking outside at the overgrown shrubs and bushes. It’s been getting worse over the years, zombies were becoming smarter and faster and Megumi was concerned on the problems it’d bring about.
—
Twenty years ago, alive and rotting corpses had suddenly appeared for the first time on Earth. They took the world by a storm, sinking their teeth like predators into anything including humans and infecting all things living. Scientists rushed to find a vaccine and find out what the hell was causing this phenomenon, governments scrambled to find ways to contain the pandemic and citizens became desperate to seek safety. Doomsday theorists were screaming that the gods have turned on humanity—fueling the panic of society.
Scientists discovered that global warming had finally reached its irreversible level— the permanent ice had melted and released an ancient pathogen, polluting the atmosphere around the world. It was as if a 2000s apocalypse indie film had been forced onto reality.
One year after the first appearance, researchers had realized that the zombies had evolved, and that they would keep evolving. As they retained more and more of the human genes and intelligence, they could one day wipe out this current generation of homo sapiens. This realization had terrified the globe and finally pushed humans into a corner, like ants.
The evolution stages of the zombies were soon ranked as cores so that citizens can act accordingly when encountering one.
Core 1 was the weakest type, with no consciousness and mindless control, roaming on their own. They ate anything. They were easily taken down by a single bullet to the head or a simple knife. This rotting flesh and incomprehensible grunts made them easily distinguishable
Core 2 became smarter, more intelligent. They could tell between living and non living things. They targeted humans and animals. Anything that could essentially breathe was made their next feast.
Core 3 was the third and final stage, the most dangerous type. They’ve adapted to human behaviour and gained a semblance to an average human’s feats. Roaming around in groups, they posed an exponential danger against society.
Governments had come up with a plan to transport ‘eligible’ citizens to Australia, one of the only sterile countries left. Doctors, engineers, scientists and the biggest contributors to society were all gathered to be shipped off to a foreign country, leaving behind their home and everyone living in it—including Megumi and his sister, Tsumiki.
When their father abandoned them, leaving them alone, they spent their days scavenging for food, water, supplies and a chance at survival. The two, still young, had been thrusted into a dystopian world where there was no ally supporting them.
Tsumiki was only 14 years of age. Megumi, being even younger, at 11, had learnt that when humanity was reduced to its lowest form, pure survival instinct took over, laws and morals were shredded up and it was every man for himself. So Megumi survived by being cruel and selfish. The first time Megumi killed someone was when he was 15, when a man who had just been bitten tried to take Megumi and his sister down with him. Tsumiki pleaded with Megumi to give the man an easy end, but mercy did not come so easily for him.
The sibling’s ‘home’ was in an abandoned apartment with barely running water and electricity, relying on each other to make it through each night, taking refuge after every near death experience. The sun was just another reminder that they had pulled through yesterday—even its warmth seemed to be mocking their pitiful state.
This routine of scavenging, hunting and surviving had become regular. Megumi was glad that there was at least some sense of normalcy in the repetitive days, even if it was distorted.
That was until Gojo Satoru suddenly intervened while they were fending off a raider trying to kill both of them at nighttime for a measly supply of food.
“You kids okay?” he spoke softly, raising his hands in peace. His face mottled with speckles of blood, his hands soaked the most in the red liquid.
11 year old Megumi was wary at first, raising his poorly made weapon with his small hands as he stared daggers at the white haired man. His other hand was raised in front of his sister, providing a measly shield against the foreigner. Gojo raised an eyebrow, examining Megumi from head to toe. Tsumiki nervously asked Gojo what his intention was.
“Hey, I just saved your life, no need to be so wary,” he chuckled, crouching down to their level. “I was wondering if you guys wanted to join my group, I’m thinking of putting together a refuge. You in?”
Tsumiki eyed him suspiciously. After sensing no deception in his eyes, she lowered her guard and patted Megumi on the wrist.
“It’s ok, Megumi,” whispered Tsumiki, her hands holding onto Megumi’s wrist. Megumi’s scowl softened slightly, but his cold gaze at the man never wavered. The tall man grinned, readjusted his sunglasses and stood up.
The sun began to peek out from over the buildings, swallowing everything with its golden rays and for the first time, it was drowning them with its comfortable warmth. Megumi squinted his eyes at the sudden exposure to light and lowered his half broken dagger.
“Hm..” Gojo muttered, deep in thought. His smile widened as he opened his mouth. He raised both his hands. Megumi flinched, his hand instinctively tightening on the dagger.
“Don’t you worry, kids. I’ll figure something out for both of you” he said confidently, ruffling both their heads. Megumi’s eyes dipped down, and after 10 years, he finally let out a sigh of relief he didn’t even know he was holding in.