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Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College – 2:43 AM
He turned around for the fifth time in two minutes, not finding any comfortable enough position, not finding that rest he deeply wanted. Yuji’s head didn’t let him rest, let him sleep the hours he knew he needed. Nothing.
His mind kept going back to the same events, to that day that haunted him until now. It was his fault, wasn’t it? Those lives, all those people who counted on him, everything.
Yuji wanted to scream, to cry, to let everything out, but nothing happened. Not a single tear, a single noise, just– silence, his eyes gazing a hole into his wall. No matter how hard he tried, he just felt hollow inside, like nothing was really happening within him. And that was eating him alive.
In moments like this, he’d do something to ground himself, listen to music full blast, maybe train some more, hang out in the common area with the others, but now it’s too late in the night to do that. So he just laid there. In his bed. Hugging himself.
He felt pathetic, weak, like everything he’d worked so hard for suddenly lost its worth. He couldn’t even find the strength to take his phone and send Megumi a message in hopes of the other being here already, he just couldn’t. He was really tired of everything, of feeling like this.
Itadori just turned around again, facing his door as he deeply wished that everything was different, that he didn’t feel like this, that none of that happened. What did he do to deserve it? He hadn’t done anything wrong, had he?
Just like an angel falling from the sky, two knocks on his door were heard around the room, immediately followed by it opening. It was Megumi. Of course it was.
The raven-haired boy had just arrived from a trip, an easy mission that took him no time but was kind of an emergency for it to be this late. And still, he chose to check on Yuji this time. Well, he always did.
“I know it’s late, but I wanted you to know that I was back–” Megumi began talking, only for him to stop himself when he saw the other, his brows immediately furrowing. “Yuji, what’s wrong?” He questioned as he quickly got closer to him.
He knew that at times like this, Itadori wasn’t really the one to talk, so sometimes he had to do that part (and he’d do it gladly), so when he got near enough, he climbed inside the covers with the other, quickly grabbing his face, caressing it.
Yuji instantly hugged the other, almost putting his whole body weight on top of Megumi’s side. He hid his face in the other’s neck, searching for that warmth, that comfort. Hands began tracing figures along his back, maybe a squeeze here and there to ground Itadori, to let him know he wasn’t alone anymore.
The pink-haired boy wasn’t a stranger to dissociation, that mental process that caused a disconnection from his thoughts, his feelings, memories… Sadly, he was very familiar with it, but it still took him by surprise when he found himself lost in it. It was like he knew what was happening around him, but his mind couldn’t care less, him not being able to control his own actions or emotions.
It may sound difficult to handle someone in that state, but when it came to Yuji, Megumi did it like it was breathing, whispering sweet words and trying to bring back the other to his own senses.
“I’m right here, Yuu,” He’d mutter under his breath, one hand deep in pink hair, caressing as he continued comforting the other. “I’m not going anywhere.” And, as much as it hurt him seeing Itadori like this, he’d do it anytime if it meant that the other would be okay.
When Yuji seemed to reconnect again, Fushiguro would gently embrace him if he let him, at least until the other was ready to face him.
Yuji breathed a sharp breath in, every emotion hitting him suddenly as he felt everything around him once again, holding onto Fushiguro like an anchor, mumbling everything that came to mind.
“I’m so sorry, Megumi, I really tried everything–” A sob interrupted him as the other gently shushed him, telling him that everything was okay. “I really tried to stop everything that happened, but I was so weak I just couldn’t– I felt so useless–”
“I know, Yuji,” Fushiguro comforted the other, his heart breaking a little every time he heard the other’s broken voice. “It’s not your fault, dear.” Only the truth be told, ‘cause to Megumi’s eyes, Itadori was innocent of anything that tormented him. “I know you did anything you could to save everybody, you did so good…”
Fushiguro didn’t stop whispering into the pink-haired boy’s ear, his own eyes watering for a bit before he quickly dried them off. That didn’t matter to him right now, only Yuji did.
The boy cried and sobbed and wailed in Megumi’s arms, leaving a wet spot on his shoulder as he did, every suppressed emotion finally coming to the surface. It was overwhelming and tiring, every muscle in Itadori’s body hurting while he did. Maybe it was the exhaustion of not sleeping correctly for days, or the emotional baggage he’d been carrying for so long, for none of that mattered anymore, because Fushiguro was there for him, again, as always.
“Remember what I said to you right before everything that happened at Shinjuku?” Megumi whispered when the other had calmed down a bit, his shaky breaths now more collected ones.
“Yeah?” Itadori managed to mumble back, his voice hoarse from all the crying, throat tight as the word came out, like he’d cry again at any moment.
“You did, Yuji,” The raven-haired boy softly went to hold the other by his jaw, caressing that spot while trying to dry his tears. “You aren’t useless, or weak, you saved me like you promised.” He tried to reassure the other, to ground him for good. This wasn’t his strength, but for Itadori he’d try anyway. Damn, he’d die for him.
He leaned down to kiss his cheek, leaving a soft peck there before speaking again, his voice low and calm, hoping that would help the other. “Don’t blame yourself for something you didn’t have control over,” Another kiss to the tip of his nose. “Don’t torment yourself over something you couldn’t manage.” Another one to his temple.
Some more tears fell to Yuji’s cheek, but were quickly recollected and dried by his boyfriend, who continued to whisper reassurance. “And, please, don’t blame yourself for something you weren’t in charge of.” A last kiss was placed on Itadori’s forehead, his eyes glowing with fresh tears, but this time was different. This time it wasn’t messy, or noisy, they just– fell. And that’s also okay.
It wasn’t the first time Yuji’d heard those words coming from Megumi, but each time he did, they managed to get something out of him, relief? Maybe, but he didn’t really pay any mind. He just focused on how gently the other held him, or how warm he suddenly felt.
Of course, the ugly feelings didn’t disappear right away, but if he could ignore them for just a little bit, he’d do it in a heartbeat.
Yuji didn’t trust his voice enough to transmit his thoughts, but still he pushed himself up to leave a soft peck on Megumi’s lips, his own form of saying thank you in these kinds of moments.
And if the other pushed his head back down and placed them in a comfier position, he wouldn’t question it, he’d just try to fall asleep to the sound of Megumi’s heartbeat, reminding himself that he’s not alone in this, that he has someone to rely on, to lay on his lap and cry about anything he needed to. To remind himself that he had Fushiguro Megumi by his side.