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The sound of Megumi's timeworn keyboard rang through the dorm room. His shoulder held the weight of Yuji's head, achy from hours of not moving. They had propped themselves against the wall atop Megumi's too small twin bed hours ago, a blanket thrown over their legs.
It wasn't an uncommon position they found themselves in. The persistent thoughts that troubled either of their minds grew silent if the other was around. Yuji often stopped the stream of guilt and regret of the past Megumi felt.
Megumi's energy exhausted as he attempted to finish an essay assigned by the higher-ups. The third years each had to write about "the history of curse users." The topic was borderline un-Googleable, and the school's library had closed right when class was released. Megumi, frustrated, closed his laptop with a huff.
He sat in coarse silence listening to Yuji's rigid exhales into his neck. His breath was warm on Megumi's skin. Yuji shifted to get comfortable, digging further into Megumi's shoulder blade. Sometimes it felt like he was trying to crawl into him and stay inside forever. The idea was as tempting as it was nauseating, not nearly as impossible as it sounded.
Megumi slid further down the wall to prevent tension from forming in the other's neck. He brought the blanket further up when Yuji let out a faint shiver.
"Did you finish?" Yuji's voice carried a rasp, strained from disuse. They hadn't spoken all evening, soaking in each other's presence instead. Yuji had given up on his essay hours ago claiming the higher-ups wouldn't even glance at them. Megumi had to agree, teaching was not their strong suit. Not like Gojo.
"Not quite," he replied. "I'll need to visit the library tomorrow."
"Boring," Yuji dragged out the letters. They sang through the room. He fiddled with a loose string of his uniform jacket, rolling it under his thumb and index fingers. "What'd you want to do now?"
Megumi found himself leaning his head against Yuji's as he contemplated the question. "Can we lay here for a bit? My head hurts."
"Of course." Yuji smiled. Megumi could feel the rise of the boy's cheeks on his shoulder. "I don't know how you do it. I think I wrote two sentences total."
"I guess I was just bored and had time to get it done."
"Bored? Do I bore you, Megumi?" Megumi couldn't quite see the look of hurt Yuji feigned.
"You know what I meant."
"I wanna hear you say it." Yuji said. "Tell me I'm the funniest, most awesome person you know."
"Absolutely not."
Yuji let out an exaggerated sigh and moved to grab Megumi's hand he left resting by his side. He interlaced their fingers and traced his thumb against Megumi's. "C'mon, please?" Megumi's breath hitched. He hoped Yuji couldn't hear his rapid pulse from under his ear.
"You could never bore me, Yuji." It was a whisper, spoken so quietly he feared the other didn't hear it. The only sign he did was the halted movement of his thumb. He meant every word of praise he's ever told Yuji. He needed him to know.
The monotonousness of sitting in silence with anybody else would make Megumi's skill crawl with the itch to fill it. Not with Yuji. Never with Yuji. The stillness they kept wasn't tense, never as thick as with the other sorcerers. Megumi wished to spend eternity in this lull of conversation. The comfort it brought him felt like a cure to any anguish he felt. Most of the time.
He'd never admit it out loud though. It would reveal too much. He was pretty sure Yuji already knew, which scared him, but he never changed how he treated him. He was still his best friend, so they ignored the weird tension Megumi brought with him.
He couldn’t pinpoint where the feeling started—why he felt different about his best friend—but the gradual accumulation of emotion came crashing in on him one day.
They’d spent one summer day on the beach where neither ever got near the water. Both sat on an old beach towel, frayed from use and covered in sand, shoulder to shoulder. The air smelled salty, and the wind jostled Megumi’s hair.
Yuji spoke about some curse he fought the week before and how he hated—just hated—the smell it oozed and the purple guts it spilled when it died. It was disgusting, but he laughed like it was the funniest thing he’d ever experienced. “The curse basically exploded when I punched it!” he exclaimed. “It took 3 washes to get the stains out of my uniform.”
Megumi leaned back on his palms and just watched as Yuji spoke. His hands waved around like they wanted to tell the story for him. The boy’s hair was dirty from rolling around in the sand earlier, and he only wore swim trunks. Megumi had grown awfully aware of his lack of a shirt. He tore his eyes from the sight as quick as the thought entered his mind and focused back on the story.
“Then yesterday, they sent me to kill a Grade 3. It died in like 5 seconds. I timed it! What was even the point of that?”
The only thing Megumi found he could focus on was Yuji. The waves crashed on the sand, and the sunset dripped from the sky, but looking into Yuji’s eyes made the world feel muted around them.
The boy wrapped an arm around his shoulder, and it felt like his heart was going to explode like the curse had. In a moment of realization, he thought: Oh. I’m in love with him. It was that simple. He accepted it as a fact of life and moved on. The sky is blue, Gojo is gone, and I love Itadori Yuji.
Yuji snickered from beside him. “You’re so cheesy, Megumi. I like that about you, though. You bring the cheese.”
“Bring the cheese?”
“Yeah!” He didn’t bother explaining whatever that meant, and Megumi didn’t bother to ask.
“I am not cheesy.”
“You are! The cheesiest of all. You care for those around you so much. I don’t think I can ever compare.”
“Whatever.”
“You’re perfect, Megumi.” The words rang in his ears like tinnitus, a roaring he couldn’t stop. Heat pricked his neck.
Yuji was so genuine it was painful. He’ll wax poetic about Megumi, how awesome he looked on a mission, and Megumi had to act like he didn’t feel he was about to keel over from the butterflies in his stomach. He’d compliment Megumi on a random outing, and the butterflies would start tying bows in his intestines.
“I mean it.” His words were a sigh on his lips, like there was more he wished to say but couldn’t. The room stilled to another silence. The only sound was Megumi’s rapid breathing and thudding heart he prayed Yuji couldn’t hear.
The cicadas erupted from outside his window, covering up his reckless pining. Sorcerers in love never lasted—he knew that—but he went and fell in love, anyway. The funny thing was he couldn’t even regret it. Every moment with Yuji meant something. He was a home he could come back to when Jujutsu High stopped feeling like it.
After what felt like a lifetime, but was only a few seconds, Yuji’s breathing slowed, and he sank further into Megumi’s side. Their hands remained interlocked. Yuji picked up caressing Megumi’s knuckles once more.
“You’re thinking too loud. What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“Can we get married?” Yuji asked. Megumi’s brain stuttered, and his hands felt clammy under Yuji’s touch. The words hit him like a rogue freight train, smashing into the deepest parts of him.
“Married?”
“You know, the legal union of two people who love each other?”
“I know what marriage is, idiot.” His breaths came out in gasps. “Why are you saying we should get married?”
“I just- Oh god. Did I mess everything up? I forgot that you might not love me back. I’m sorry—I’m so sorry—Megumi. Forget I said anything.” He took his head off Megumi’s shoulder, and the cold that hit him was sharp. It creeped through his uniform and made home on the skin Yuji had warmed. His hand went with him, crossing his arms in front of his chest like it was to protect him from something. Like his heart would break if he didn’t hold it in place.
Megumi remained frozen, but he wasn’t scared. It didn’t take a genius to realize what Yuji had done; asking for marriage before confessing his love in the first place was so Yuji it pricked Megumi’s eyes with tears. He didn’t let them fall.
Yuji was still curling into himself, though, and Megumi couldn’t work up the courage to say something, anything, to reciprocate his words. Yuji’s deep brown eyes searched Megumi’s for an unsaid response, and his shoulders sank each moment he couldn’t find it.
Megumi’s throat felt tight; his mind flowed with too many words he needed to say but couldn’t get out.
The AC kicked on, and the room only got colder and louder with the continuous hum it emitted. Yuji looked away at last, frowning to himself, and trying to control his breathing. It looked like he was plotting a way to bolt. “I’m really sorry, Megumi. I—”
“I love you.” The words left his mouth with a force, poured with every emotion he could work into them. The tension in his shoulder released, and he grabbed Yuji’s wrist before he could get up and leave the room.
Yuji said nothing. He stared into Megumi’s eyes with a longing he’d never noticed before. His wrist under Megumi’s grasp twitched, pulse beating fast under his fingertips. A flush creeped up Yuji’s neck and cheeks, attempting to hide in his pink hair but ultimately failing. The blush made its way across the expanse of freckles, nearly covering them completely with its brightness.
Megumi was no better. His ears pinkened, and heat radiated from his body in waves. The dim lamp on his desk was the only light in the room, the sun having set hours ago, but Megumi could still take in the full view of Yuji’s face. His brows lifted, his lips in a cute pout. His nose scrunched, and the scars littered his face. He wanted nothing more than to grab his cheeks in both hands and kiss them, to erase the pain Yuji suffered to get them.
“I love you too,” Yuji whispered his words into the space between them. “More than words can express.”
“I love you more.”
Yuji’s eyebrow quirked. “Is it a competition now? I love you the most!”
“You’re so annoying.”
“Don’t you love it?”
“Of course.”
Loving someone and being loved back to the same capacity was the most free Megumi ever felt. Expressing his affection after years was liberating.
Yuji let his head fall back onto Megumi’s shoulder with a sigh. He dragged Megumi’s hand back to interlock their fingers once more; then he placed his other hand above their clasped fists. His calluses rubbed against Megumi’s knuckles. “Is marriage too soon?”
“I don’t know. I really don’t know.”
“We basically already live together. I cook dinner for us. I’m wearing your clothes right now. Why don’t we just skip dating?”
“Are you sure? You won’t grow tired of me?”
“I’ll never tire of you. I’d have more regrets if I never married you.”
Megumi grinned. “Is this really the marriage proposal you want to go with?”
“Oh god, oh no—you’re right.” Yuji hopped off the bed in a haste and ran around the room looking for… something. He rummaged through Megumi’s desk, his closet and bathroom, and he crawled back out clasping his hands together in the shape of a box. On one knee, he opened the makeshift box and revealed a plain black stud earring stolen from Megumi’s jewelry stash.
Megumi sat up in the bed and crawled to sit on its edge as close as he could get to Yuji. “An earring? Where’s the other?”
Yuji pulled up a tuft of hair on the side of his head, revealing a singular earring in place of the one he had on previously. His other ear was bare now. “Don’t worry. I cleaned it.” A laugh in his voice. “I can’t exactly wear a ring.”
An irritating sadness invaded Megumi’s chest when he recalled how Yuji lost said ring finger and the pinky beside it.Yuji always told him not to worry about it. He said things like “it doesn’t hurt” and “I barely notice it,” but it never minimized the grief; the guilt he felt.
Taking him out of the trance, Yuji continued with his proposal. “I didn’t think I’d be getting married so soon. If you’d like a traditional ring, let me know, okay?’
“No, this is perfect.”
Yuji shied from the intense eye contact, the red of his cheeks still prevalent. “Fushiguro Megumi, will you marry me?”
Megumi pretended to wipe a fake tear from his eye. A laugh bubbled in his throat at Yuji’s performance. A dramatized nod of his head and whispered yeses joined the room as he found his way across from Yuji, brought to his knees.
“So,” Yuji started. “How soon is too soon?”
“For?”
“Wanna get married right now?” Megumi inspected Yuji for a sign of joking but quickly realized he wasn’t.
“W-where would we even go? It’s nearly midnight on a Tuesday.” He said, exasperated. Yuji’s eagerness excited him.
“I saw a courthouse down the street the other week. They advertise their services as 24/7. Do you think they’d let us get married on such short notice?”
“We have nothing to wear.”
“You’ve got a suit buried in that closet. I know you do.” Yuji stood up abruptly and offered a hand to Megumi, pulling him up.
“I only have one suit,” Megumi said. “And the only tie I own has ducks on it.”
Yuji snorted at that. “Dibs on the tie!” He shuffled to the closet and pulled the door open as he had several times before. He ran his index across the minimal clothes Megumi owned, fingering through until he found the tux.
A layer of dust flew into the air as he pulled it from the hanger. He tossed the white undershirt towards Megumi. “You wear that and the pants, and I’ll wear the jacket. Even split!”
“What about- What pants would you wear?” Megumi asked. “If you wear sweatpants, I’ll leave you at the altar.”
Yuji gasped and clutched a hand to his chest in mock hurt. “You would never,” he exclaimed. “How about I wear a nice pair of jeans? You always seem to like when I—”
Megumi cleared his throat, ignoring the fact Yuji noticed him ogling him in jeans… “That’s enough. Jeans are fine.”
“Anyway.” He laughed as he pulled his shirt over his head. “Hurry up. I don’t want to wait in line all night.”
Megumi felt like a Victorian boy seeing an ankle for the first time even though he’d seen Yuji shirtless before. It was still dumbfounding how built he was for their age. He tried not to stare for too long at Yuji’s arms flexing as he pulled on a random white t-shirt from Megumi’s closet for under the suit jacket.
He followed along, pulling his own shirt off to replace it with the undershirt. He wouldn’t bring up the fact the courthouse definitely doesn’t have a line out the door at midnight for those getting married.
~
20 minutes later and the two boys were outside a large, intimidating, unlit building. It looked abandoned with moss growing on the sides and unkempt bushes blocking the windows. “Are you sure they’re open? What kind of place is even open 24/7 in this econom-”
“They better be, or I’m writing a complaint to the government,” Yuji huffed.
“Yeah?” A snort escaped in response. “What for… closing because of slow business?”
“I was thinking homophobia.”
“Oh, for sure. They saw us walking up and were so frightened they fled the scene.” Megumi rolled his eyes.
“Exactly, you get it.”
A chill ran through the air. Megumi shivered at the lack of an overcoat on his portion of the tuxedo. Yuji stuck an arm around Megumi’s torso and pulled him closer, stroking his side to share his warmth. Yuji ran warm. Shoko always boasted about his impressive blood flow—you know, because he’s died twice.
They walked up to the front doors, and to Megumi’s surprise, they actually opened when he pulled the handle. A faint light came through the gap, and he pulled it open for Yuji to sneak through first.
A faint voice spoke from behind a receptionist’s desk. “We’re closed.” It droned.
“No, you’re not? The sign out front says 24/7.”
“Whatever. What do you guys need?” She didn’t bother to look up. The boys shuffled to stand in front of the desk, hands out of view, but gently clasped together.
“We wanna get married.” A smile spread across Yuji’s face.
The girl quirked an eyebrow, finally looking up from whatever was so distracting on her desk. “Right now?”
“Right now.”
She looked them up and down before she said: “… In those outfits?’
“What’s wrong with our outfits?” Megumi replied a bit too fast.
Yuji, distraught, shifted his gaze between Megumi and the receptionist. “It’s the duck tie, isn’t it? I knew it was too much—oh man—Megumi, why did you let me call dibs?”
The receptionist lady eyed the two, her eye twitching. “Go home if you’re gonna waste my time.”
“You’re the one wasting our time,” Megumi deadpanned. “Can’t we just say some vows and elope real quick?”
“Listen, kid, a wedding isn’t something you do ‘real quick.’ Lots of paperwork. Lots of boring preparation."
Megumi snipped back at her. “Listen, ma’am, that’s why we’re eloping. Less preparation for a big ceremony.”
She huffed a thick breath of air out of her nose. “Who’ll be your officiant?’
Yuji leaned further into Megumi’s space, not that he minded, and murmured, “our what?”
“The person that marries us.”
“We have a third?” Yuji whisper-yelled.
With his free hand, Megumi smacks his own forehead. “No, idiot. The boring person doing all the talking while we wait to say our vows or whatever.” Yuji “ohh”-ed at the explanation.
The receptionist gives an unimpressed look before standing up from her chair. It screeched against the tile floor, getting sent back a few feet until it hit a wall. The sudden noise grabbed the boy’s attention. “If you both promise to shut up and be out of here by 12, I’ll be your officiant. M’kay?”
Megumi nodded in agreement while Yuji muttered a ‘I don’t want her to marry us,’ pout evident in his voice.
She led them to another room down a long stretch of hall. Yuji pulled him along eagerly with their interlocked hands. The room had several chairs placed out and a small stage at the front with a stand for the officiant. They got settled on the stage, and the receptionist, now officiant, handed Megumi a pen and a piece of paper. “Please fill this out. This is the marriage license to legalize your elopement.”
She left the two to fill it out for a few minutes. They skimmed the information and signed in the appropriate places.
“What’s today’s date?”
“You don’t know our wedding day?” Megumi teased. Yuji frowned in response, looking up from the paper to give Megumi puppy-dog eyes. A soft smile perked up at the corner of Megumi’s lips. “It’s February 4th.”
“Thank you, love.” Itadori mumbled.
Megumi made no move to hide the flush on his cheeks at the pet name. Yuji seemed to revel in his ability to make Megumi flustered.
They handed the paper and pens back to the officiant-receptionist, and she took a moment to look it over. The boys took their places in front of the podium the woman stood behind. “We—Err. You two are gathered here today to celebrate the union of…” She paused, grabbing the certificate again to check something out. “Fushiguro Megumi and Itadori Yuji.”
Yuji let out a giggle. Megumi couldn’t help but get lost in his eyes. He grabbed the other’s hands, stood face to face, and stroked the backs of Yuji’s hands. Yuji’s eyes lit up at the contact, meeting Megumi’s with a bright grin.
“Can I skip the speech? You guys aren’t even listening,” the receptionist interrupted. Neither boy responded, entranced by the other’s presence. The woman sighed for the nth time that evening. “Without further ado, will you two please say your vow—You prepared vows, right?”
Megumi cleared his throat before speaking. “Yuji, ever since you ate that finger in front of me, I’ve felt something more than platonic.” A look of horror spread across the receptionist’s face before she could mask it with a polite smile. “The feeling—the risk—of losing you was worse than anything I’d ever felt.” A small tear formed in Megumi’s eye. Yuji reached up and wiped it away before it could fall. “There was no escaping my feelings after I saw you at that exchange event. I watched you die, and to see you back was the most overwhelming feeling I’d ever experienced.”
“That was beautiful, Megumi. Did you come up with that on the spot?’
The receptionist muttered, “it was something,” but neither heard it.
“I planned it in my head on the way here, actually.”
“No wonder you were so silent!”
“Can we get a move on?”
“Right. Right,” Yuji said. He glanced around the room, full of nerves, before making eye contact with Megumi again. “Fushiguro Megumi, I know you don’t like when I bring up the detention center—don’t make that face—but in that moment, I knew I wasn’t ready to lose you. When Sukuna ripped my heart from my body, the look on your face as I bled out is something I’ll never forget. I never want to see you in that kind of pain again.”
“Do I need to drug test you two?” The woman interrupted, again. Yuji side-eyed her, continuing his speech.
“I hope to be by your side forever, Megumi.” The boy bit his lip. The room stilled.
“Uh—you guys done? Still goin—no? Okay.” Yuji pulled out a veil from who knows where and situated it on his head. He pulled the sheer cloth in front of his face.
“You look ridiculous.”
“You’re jealous.”
“Maybe I am.”
The receptionist let out an annoyed huff. “Do you, Itadori Yuji, take Fushiguro Megumi to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
“I do!”
“And, do you, Megumi, take Itadori Yuji to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
“Wife. I’m his wife.” Yuji corrected.
The officiant closed her eyes to control her irritation from showing. “—your lawfully wedded—uh; wife.”
“I do.”
“Ok. You guys can kiss now, but I’m gonna leave. You better be gone in 5 minutes.” She sped-walked out of the courtroom, the door slamming behind her.
Megumi took a step closer, reaching to lift the veil up and away from Yuji’s face. “You look beautiful. Duck tie included.”
“You look even more beautiful. Though, I think it’d be even better without the shirt—”
“Shut up and kiss me.”
That was the last thing Megumi could say before Yuji reached his hands up to clasp his face and drag him down into a bruising kiss. The kiss forced a gasp from Megumi’s throat, the tension from the years of pining finally released. Yuji intensified it by dragging his tongue over Megumi’s bottom lip, forcing it inside his mouth. Megumi felt the boy beaming against his lips.
Yuji explored every corner he could in the limited time they had left in the courthouse. His hand found Megumi’s neck, and he ran his fingers through the hair.
Megumi tried pressing his body as close as he could to the other. His hands rested on Yuji’s hips, slowly massaging them with his thumbs. They separated, eventually, both needing to catch their breath. Megumi rested his forehead against Yuji’s, just soaking in the moment for a bit longer.
“Ready to get out of here?” Megumi nodded, mesmerized by his now husband. His husband. It had a nice ring to it. “C’mon, let’s go home.”
~
“C’mon, Megumi, let’s go home. Please—I can’t leave without you—I need you here with me. Please. Please, Megumi, stay.” Only a resounding silence met Yuji’s pleading. Megumi lay motionless in his arms in an alley in Tokyo.
The two were there to take care of a measly second-grade cursed spirit. This shouldn’t be happening. This isn’t happening. Yuji’s knees weren’t digging into hard concrete, Megumi wasn’t unresponsive and bloodied, and they were both on the honeymoon they never got to go on.
Yuji had always wanted to travel. He wanted to take Megumi to a tropical place, something like Fiji or the Maldives. They would spend as long as they needed, sucking the Jujutsu society's funds dry from their extensive stay.
Megumi wanted a mountainous stay at a private Airbnb where it was just the two of them. “Something in Switzerland or Italy, maybe,” he told Yuji when they had spoken about it. They fake argued over where it would be, but Yuji knew he’d inevitably crumble to Megumi’s whims. A vacation in a house away from society was exactly what they both needed.
Yuji ripped a sleeve off his jacket and tied it around his husband’s thigh to slow the bleeding. He then took off his jacket to put pressure on the injury to his abdomen. “Megumi, stay with me. I’m gonna get us help, okay?” Yuji pulled at his earlobe—the ear with the shared piercing—a nervous habit he picked up after the wedding. Megumi hated when he did it. He was afraid it would somehow stretch the piercing hole too large to fit the earring, and they’d need to get new ones. He was sentimental in his own, irrational way.
He was panicking. All the times he was able to save Megumi and the other sorcerers he fought alongside left his mind. His hands trembled, and he heard a sob from somewhere. The noise was disturbing and deafening. The sniffling was gross and the rapid breathing was distracting him.
It took a moment for him to register it as his own cries. The tears from his eyes blocked his view, and he continued to press the jacket into the wound as he picked Megumi up bridal-style. A horrible smell of iron filled Yuji’s nose. They should’ve done this at their wedding, not now. Why now of all times?
This wasn’t how he was supposed to lose him. They were going to grow old together after retiring from sorcery. They didn’t expect to be ambushed by the mysterious special grade, and they certainly didn’t expect to lose so quickly. If only Gojo were here, maybe he’d know how to help, how to save Megumi.
Yuji was running aimlessly, hoping it was the direction they came from. On the outskirts of the city, Ijichi was waiting by his car, awaiting orders from the higher-ups or directions from the boys to take them to Shoko.
‘Please, Shoko, save my Megumi,’ Yuji chanted in his mind. He was so sore. An ache took over his entire body as he ran with Megumi close to his chest. His arms were numb, and his feet felt bruised. “I can’t bear the loneliness.”
He found Ijichi in what felt like hours later. The man helped Yuji gently lay Megumi in the back seat. He allowed Yuji to sit back there to keep pressure on the wounds. Megumi’s head rested in Yuji’s lap. He ran his fingers through the dirtied strands. He could’ve sworn a gray was coming in, and oh, how Megumi would yell at him when he told him later. “It’s not a gray, Yuji, we’re only 20,” he’s scold.
Yuji pressed his forehead to Megumi’s, listening for a sign of life, anything: an inhale of air, a light pulse from his neck, the rise of his chest. Nothing. Yuji let a stray tear run onto Megumi’s forehead. He didn’t mean to. He knows Megumi’ll pull through. His thumb rubbed the tear into his skin, and he kissed the spot it had dripped on. The remainder of the ride Yuji spent like that: forehead pressed to Megumi’s and an occasional sniffle from holding back his sorrow.
Megumi didn’t survive. The special grade hit an artery in his thigh and made a large laceration into his intestines and liver. He lost too much blood on the way to Shoko for her to heal him. He died on his way to her clinic in Yuji’s arms.
The grief was unbearable at first. Yuji wouldn’t leave Megumi’s dorm—the room they ended up sharing after they eloped—and Nobara had to bring food to him to get him to eat anything.
It took a few years after that for Yuji to realize he wasn’t aging quite like Nobara had been. He’d seen her plucking a few gray hairs from her scalp and covering up a wrinkle or two with makeup. She swore she wasn’t doing those things, but Yuji figured she noticed the lack of aging in him and wanted to spare him the dread he knew was coming.
Yuji didn’t know how he would have felt if Megumi were aging without him. If Megumi were here—he found himself thinking that a lot—he would probably be jealous at Yuji’s lack of creaky bones and thinning hair. He’d make Yuji feel less trapped in his own life; like he had more control over his own death. It was a morbid thought he tried to shut down too often.
A few decades later, the grief was a permanent sting in the back of his eyes. It was always there, and he could do nothing about it. He’d learned to live with it. He distanced himself from Jujutsu society and remained on his own, avoiding contact with anybody he once knew. It hurt less when he didn’t have a constant reminder of who was and wasn’t still in his life.
Nobara knew that when Yuji claimed to be visiting Megumi’s grave one day, he wouldn’t be back. The night of the incident, it felt like she had lost both of her best friends. Megumi may have died, but they were both gone after that.
Megumi died so young. Yuji never figured out a way to cope with it other than pretending he was still around. Maybe this is what Gojo meant when he said that love was the most twisted curse of all. Yuji stayed trapped in his pain and longing for his husband to come back home. One day, hopefully, he would see him again. He figured it might be a very long time before that happened, but Megumi was waiting for him. He was sure of it.