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The beginning of the end for Fushiguro Megumi starts at five AM.
His alarm goes off everyday and he wakes up and shuts it off easily, immediately getting out of bed to start his day with an absurdly large mug of black coffee and a book, getting as much peace as he can before his classmates wake up and start bothering him. When they do start dragging themselves into the kitchen around seven, he goes and showers, changes into his school uniform and prepares himself for whatever mission Gojo-sensei’s going to assign him when he bounces into Megumi’s room, unwelcome.
Megumi does this routine everyday without difficulty. But he’s already awake when his alarm goes off today, like he was the day before and the day before that one— so he reaches over and turns it off and doesn’t move from his bed for another ten minutes, staring at his blank wall instead.
He does haul himself up afterwards and lets his feet take him to his bathroom before leaving his room and heading for the kitchen.
He pauses when he glances at Itadori’s door. Itadori is definitely still asleep, despite what today is, and Megumi isn’t going to ruin it for him by waking him up just because Megumi can’t sleep— because Itadori will get up then. He’ll get up and make him something to drink and eat and sit with him until he does fall asleep, because that’s the kind of person Itadori is, but it isn’t his place to comfort Megumi right now, so Megumi lets him sleep and walks the other way, heading to the kitchen.
He rounds the corner and halts when he sees the lights on beneath the door, and when he does approach it, he hears glasses clinking and muffled swears being muttered under the person's breath. His routine was already ruined anyways, so he steps in and comes face-to-face with Kugisaki, who looks like a deer caught in headlights.
Her face morphs from surprise to relief when she realizes it’s just Megumi, and then morphs into irritation a second later when she realizes it’s Megumi.
She bends down and picks up the cup she seemingly dropped. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m always awake at this time,” he responds, eyes half-lidded. “Why are you awake?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” she says, leaning back against the counter and looking anywhere but at Megumi. He doesn’t ask why she can’t sleep. He knows why.
He ignores her and goes to turn the coffee machine on when he notices it already is on and fills his mug up, grabbing a biscuit to eat with it. He can feel her eyes on the back of his head now, but he stays where he is and doesn’t face her.
“You didn’t sleep either,” she accuses. It’s not a question, so Megumi doesn’t say anything back, which says enough for her. He rests his back against the counter too and drinks his coffee.
She gags from the other side of the kitchen. “I can't believe you drink it like that.”
He glares at her. “And filling it with sugar is any better?”
She sticks her nose up and sips her coffee. “Better than drinking that battery acid.”
He disregards her again, drinking his coffee faster. She scoffs and hops up on the tabletop, swinging her legs.
“Why didn’t you sleep?”
He stops, lowering his cup and looking down at the residue.
“Do you—really have to ask?”
She blows out a breath and doesn’t say anything back, and she doesn’t have to say anything back because it’s the same reason she couldn’t sleep either.
Because it’s the beginning of February, and Itadori Yuuji only has one more of Ryomen Sukuna’s fingers to ingest before he’s set to be executed in the morning.
And it’s fine, it’s supposed to be fine, because they’ve known this would happen for eight months now, so of course it’s supposed to be fine.
Except it isn’t, which is why Megumi couldn’t sleep and why Kugisaki and him are sitting in the kitchen together, staring at nothing.
Kugisaki stops swinging her legs and kicks the cabinet below them. “Well this sucks.”
He looks up at her and still stays silent while she stares at the door. It’s probably 5:30 now, so everyone else is still asleep for the next hour at least. He’d probably be halfway through reading one of his books right now if the circumstances were different, but Kugisaki’s right— this does suck. They’ve been in this situation before, when Itadori pretended to be dead last year, but two weeks is a lot different than eight months when it comes to knowing a person. Eight months of time with Itadori made Megumi forget what it was like before he met him, or how he managed to make it through two months without him—
And he has no idea how he’ll manage now either.
“What’s with the look?”
Megumi blinks at Kugisaki. “I’m—thinking.”
“ Thinking, ” she repeats, squinting at him. “Are you planning something?”
He squints back. “What would I be planning?”
“Don’t know,” she shrugs, “just feel like you’d have some elaborate plan on how to fix this. Hypothetically, I mean.”
His lips part slightly because that’s—not what he was expecting her to say. Megumi’s definitely thought about figuring out a plan before, but he’s not stupid enough to make any rash decisions now, less than ten hours before Itadori’s execution.
But Kugisaki opened a door by saying that, and whether it was a joke or not, he steps through it.
“What would your plan be? Hypothetically.”
She raises her eyebrows, “I think we should talk to the higher ups.”
“We’ve done that.”
“Not my way.”
“ Yelling at the higher ups won’t work either.”
She grits her teeth. “Then what would you do?”
He huffs, knocking his head on the cupboard behind him and closing his eyes. He can’t tell if they’re still joking with each other, but if this was hypothetical, he wouldn’t know what to do.
Before Itadori pretended to be dead, he dragged Megumi out of his room one weekend claiming he was hungry and wanted to cook. It was pointless to force Megumi to go with him, because all he did was watch while Itadori did all the cooking. He made them meatballs and they were good, so a few days later, Megumi reluctantly knocked on Itadori’s door and asked him to make them again. He let Megumi help him the second time, and actually taught him how to make them, arguing that they always taste better when you cook them yourself. They ate together after that, and Itadori told Megumi about the times he would cook for himself back in Sendai.
“I’ve heard they have really good meatball restaurants around Tokyo too,” he said eagerly. “We should all go sometime!”
After that he kept talking animatedly about other places in Japan he’d want to visit soon, but then Itadori ‘died’, so they never did end up going anywhere. Megumi still thought about it a lot though— how excited Itadori was to visit places he’d never been before, and how he’s the type of person who deserved to travel the world, and not be taken from it.
Megumi opens his eyes, blinking up at the ceiling. “I think we should leave.”
His eyes grow after he says it, because he can’t believe he said it out loud, and he whips his head down to Kugisaki who meets his eye with a dumbfounded expression.
“What do you mean leave?”
He glimpses at his coffee cup and taps his finger on the edge. “I mean leave. Run away.”
Her eyes widen and mouth parts narrowly before she schools her expression and furrows her brows instead.
“Huh.”
It’s a thin line now, between whether this is hypothetical or not. It doesn’t feel like a joke to him, and probably not to Kugisaki either, although it should because joking about kidnapping Itadori five hours before his execution and actually doing it are two very different things.
And yet the silence between Megumi and Kugisaki feels too dense for this to be a joke anymore.
“Say, Kugisaki,” he starts, “how long does it take you to pack?”
She gives him a cautious look. “It takes me hours to pack. Normally.”
He hums. “What about ten minutes?”
He waits for her to object or tell him he’s an idiot or say something to knock some sense into him— but she doesn’t, and just gives him an ‘ are we actually gonna do this?’ look that he doesn’t back down from.
She straightens. “You pack Itadori’s stuff. I’ll be done in five.”
☆☆☆
Fifteen minutes later, Kugisaki isn’t back yet and Megumi finished packing both Itadori and his bags.
It’s still winter and Itadori isn’t the fashion type, so it isn’t hard to pack for him when he just has to throw ten different hoodies into a duffel bag. It’s also convenient that Itadori could sleep if a train ran through his room, because Megumi wasn’t being very modest while rummaging through his closet.
Waking Itadori up is a little bit more difficult though.
It wouldn’t be hard to nudge him awake if Megumi tried hard enough, but the idea of breaking him out of whatever peaceful sleep he seems to be having doesn’t feel right. And he does seem peaceful right now— breathing heavily with his arms wrapped around himself while his whole face is pressed into his pillows and his lips are separated. It amazes Megumi how restful he can be right now while Megumi is anything but. It’s his execution in the morning, and Itadori looks like he could skip it by sleeping all the way through it instead.
Megumi drops both of their bags by Itadori’s door and makes his way over to the bed. He sleeps with one leg over the covers, Megumi notices, and he’s snoring quietly too. He watches for a moment, sitting on the edge of the bed— softly, to not disturb him— and places his hand on Itadori’s arm. He’s too warm.
He pinches Itadori’s arm and starts shaking him.
“ Itadori ,” he whispers, shaking him harder— he yawns generously, but doesn’t budge. Megumi knits his brows, hand moving up to his face, cupping his cheek. He rubs his thumb over it once, sighs, and starts rocking Itadori’s head around and slapping at his face for what feels like a few minutes until finally , his eyes crack open.
He squints up at Megumi and opens his mouth to speak when a yawn breaks out of him. He rubs at his face and sits up.
“Fushiguro?” Itadori scratches his eye, the other looking at Megumi questioningly. Megumi’s own eyes flicker between Itadori’s and down to his mouth when he yawns again.
“Hi.”
Itadori frowns at him, worried. “Is everything okay?”
Is everything okay , he asks, like the idiot he is. Megumi just steps over to grab their bags, and throws them on the bed. Itadori flinches and glances at Megumi, a stunned frown on his face now.
Megumi scratches the back of his head. “Get up. Please.”
Itadori looks at him, then at the bags, then back at him. “Why?”
“We’re going out.”
“Out—where?”
He looks almost like a lost puppy, slouched over on his bed and unsure of whether he should listen to Megumi or wait for an explanation.
It’s not an easy one— there’s no easy way to tell Itadori that me and Kugisaki are kidnapping you so you don’t get executed in five hours, so you need to hurry, without freaking him out even more. But he doesn’t have to figure out how to explain it in the end, because Itadori’s patio door slides open and a disheveled Kugisaki stands in it with three of her own duffel bags, and throws them into the room.
She looks between them and puts her hands on her hips. “Are you ready?”
“Yes,” Megumi interrupts while Itadori stutters, walking over to him and grabbing his wrists to pull him up— he still looks confused, but he lets Megumi pull him out of his bed with little hesitation or difficulty. “Let’s go.”
“Wha—Fushiguro, Kugisaki,” Itadori pulls away and stares at them, wide-eyed. “Why are you packed—where are we going?”
Kugisaki growls. “You never ask useful questions when they’re important, why are you asking them now?”
He sticks his neck out and turns to Megumi, more exasperated now, and shaking his head in question. He does look like a lost puppy now, but in a more baffled, uncomfortable way than a sad one.
“We’ll explain later,” Megumi responds, rubbing the back of his neck. “But we need to go now.”
Itadori eyes flicker between Megumi’s for a while— still trying to figure out which emotion to display on his own face— but something in his eyes must help him understand their urgency, because he stands up straight and nods, grabbing his bag and mumbling out a dry “okay.”
Megumi nods back and Kugisaki sighs, and they leave.
☆☆☆
It started like this: the sun starts rising as they head into the outskirts of Shinjuku— close enough to the school to take a short train ride but also far enough in case of the small possibility that somebody noticed them leave— and go to two 24-hour convenience stores to get looked at strangely by cashiers while they pick up things they need for their length-not-yet-determined trip— snack, lots of snacks, according to Itadori, and a bunch of other junk that Megumi has to discreetly put back on the shelves— and when they finish shopping, they pay for all of their items and leave the store— Itadori holding all ten of the bags— and head towards Shinjuku Central Park.
They walk to the park, Itadori in the middle, lugging around all their groceries, and on the way there, Megumi asks Kugisaki how she managed to pay for all their things, to which she smirks at him, taking out her wallet and pulling out a familiar matte black credit card.
“ Kugisaki-san, is that Gojo-sensei’s card? ” he stops in the middle of the sidewalk, much to Itadori’s discontent. “ When did you even take it?”
Kugisaki scoffs at him and proceeds to tell him he has a stick up his ass, and keeps walking, putting her wallet back in her purse.
“ I took it while you were packing, because I think ahead sometimes. What’s the big deal anyways—not like he’ll miss it.”
They’re caught up to the park now, and Megumi goes to argue with Kugisaki about all the reasons stealing another person's credit card is a big deal, but Itadori huffs and practically collapses onto the bench, bags dropped at his feet.
“Not that I have a clue what’s going on, but I agree with Kugisaki, Fushiguro.” he pants and lifts his head up at them expectantly. “Actually—can someone tell me what’s going on?”
They frown at him and at each other— Megumi thinks most things through, but this whole thing wasn’t supposed to happen in the first place before Megumi ran into Kugisaki in the kitchen. Neither of them thought this through, they didn’t even think about where they would go first, and they never considered having to explain it to Itadori either. But now Itadori’s sitting with his head lifted up at them, and waiting for one of them to say something , so Megumi elbows Kugisaki in the side, prompting her to respond.
She doesn’t respond, and instead elbows Megumi back harder. He turns his head away and she elbows him again.
He clicks his tongue and sighs. “We’re—going on a trip.”
Itadori blinks at him. “Huh?”
“We’re going on a road trip,” Kugisaki pipes in, hands on her hips. “And if you don’t hurry and get up, we’re gonna miss our next train.”
“Oh, where are we going now?” He stands—because apparently that’s all he needed to hear.
“Uh—Fushiguro,” Kugisaki nudges him again. “Tell him where we’re going now.”
He scowls at her and she ignores him. “Where do you wanna go Itadori?”
He looks taken back for a second, before his brows furrowed as he thinks, and then his whole face lights up in a second.
“Well. I do wanna go to Roppongi!”
☆☆☆
They don’t go to Roppongi.
Kugisaki, apparently, executively decided that she was in charge of the itinerary for their trip, and Roppongi just “ wasn’t in the right direction.”
She takes them to Toshima instead— paying for a five-star hotel (with Gojo’s credit card) that’s big enough for at least five other people to stay in.
(Megumi complains, again, about being reckless with their money, and just gets a “ C’mon Fushiguro, live a little bit for once” in response.
He can live just fine in a regular sized apartment, but he leaves it at that. )
They’d barely been in the hotel for two hours when Megumi woke up to somebody screaming.
Which should’ve worried him, probably, but Megumi knows better than to expect a problem when he’s staying in a hotel with Itadori Yuuji and Kugisaki Nobara.
They made it to their hotel after seven and it’s barely nine, so Megumi’s running on less than two hours of sleep when he slips out of bed, head pounding, and into the kitchen where Kugisaki’s sitting on the counter with a bag of— hot cheetos in her hand, and Itadori’s slumped over at the dining table. Kugisaki grunts her greeting and Itadori perks up and grins at him.
“Hi Fushiguro! I made you an omelette,” he says, then frowns down at the two plates in front of him, both with two things that look too burnt to be food. “Or I tried to.”
Yeah, Megumi’s gonna have an interesting few weeks.
He squeezes Itadori’s shoulder as he passes him and grabs a clementine from their groceries.
“You’re disgusting,” he says to Kugisaki— because who eats hot cheetos this early?— as she downs the dust and crumbs from her bag. She side-eyes him and kicks him away, so drops into the spot next to Itadori. He sits up again and smiles at Megumi for the second time, and Megumi blinks back at him. They’re sitting across from the windows, the sunlight beaming down on Itadori, bathing him in light that brightens his smile and freckles tenfold— washing away any lasting headache Megumi had from waking up. He has ketchup on the corner of his mouth. Megumi wipes it away and turns back to his food, ears reddening.
“Morning— and thank you.”
Itadori’s smile eases. “You’re welcome.”
(From the counter, Kugisaki mumbles “ you’re one to talk.” He ignores her.)
Megumi peels his clementine apart and eats a piece. Itadori and Kugisaki are both bent down where they’re sitting, Itadori trying to cut his burnt omelette with a fork and Kugisaki now typing something on her phone, and both look thoroughly drained.
“Did either of you sleep?”
Itadori tenses next to him and Kugisaki shrugs, searching through the plastic bag next to her. “Not really.”
Itadori stays tensed up and aggressively rips a piece of his eggs off and eats it, and neither of them say anything else, so Megumi drops it and goes back to his fruit. He peels off another part of it and puts it in front of Itadori’s face before he can put another chunk of his charred eggs on his mouth. Itadori gapes at it, but he puts his fork down and relaxes as he lets Megumi feed it to him, humming his thanks with pink cheeks.
“ Tch , I mean seriously, right in front of my food?”
Megumi’s eyes wander past Itadori to where Kugisaki is now leaning against the counter, a chocolate chip cookie in her hand.
“You ate hot cheetos, and now you’re eating a cookie?”
“It’s not my fault Itadori only bought snacks!”
“There are literally oranges right next to you,” he says, stopping Itadori’s fork before it reaches his mouth again, giving him another fruit slice. “And you—what happened to your eggs?” Megumi asks, because he knows that Itadori’s more than capable of cooking for himself.
He stares at Megumi while he chews, and swallows thickly. “I um—burnt it.”
He doesn’t say anything else or explain how he burnt it, so Megumi just sighs and wipes his hand on his napkin. “You burnt it,” he mirrors.
Itadori smiles at him awkwardly and opens his mouth to respond when Kugisaki’s phone buzzes loudly— she walks into the bedroom without a glance at them and shuts the door. Megumi watches her go and stares at the closed door— he can’t hear more than a mumble.
“Who do you think it is?”
“Huh?”
Itadori’s picking at his hoodie strings, tensed up again.
“On the phone.”
“Oh.” He rubs his neck. “I think it’s Maki-senpai.”
Megumi nods, because oh— Maki-senpai.
Itadori’s shoulders tense even more and he hunches over his plate. “She called earlier too.”
He watches Itadori pick at his now-cold omelette. “Oh.”
“She, didn’t sound very happy,” he whispers. “That Kugisaki left like that.”
Itadori looks up at Megumi, nervous— like he’s to blame for any of this.
“She’s fine. Maki-san is probably more upset that we didn’t bring her with us.”
He looks back down, cutting a piece of his omelette off. “I feel bad.”
“Don’t.” Megumi pulls the fork away from him and grabs his hand instead. “Kugisaki and Maki-san can handle themselves, they’ll be fine.”
He rubs his thumb over the back of Itadori’s hand and squeezes it. “It’s not your fault.”
Itadori sighs and looks down at their joined hands, tension leaving his shoulders again. He squeezes back. “Okay.”
He smiles up at Megumi again when the bedroom door opens back up.
“ Ugh,” Kugisaki complains, walking back to the counter. “I’m so glad I like women.”
Megumi exhales, ducking his chin towards their hands, while Itadori gives her a flustered look.
“We both like women too?”
“—yeah but I only like women. And you two like each other, so it doesn’t count.”
“Wha- you and Maki-san are worse— ”
“Itadori.” He puts his hand not holding Itadori’s on his forearm. “Don’t encourage her. You won’t win.”
He deflates, staring down at Megumi’s hand on his arm. He lets go.
From the kitchen, Kugisaki drops something on the ground that breaks, pulling Megumi and Itadori’s gaze towards her, looking down at the broken glass on the floor, hands on her hips.
“You know. Maybe we should just go get breakfast.”
☆☆☆
Three weeks ago, Megumi had to exorcise a grade one curse by himself.
It was at the Yanaka cemetery and was left alone for far too long— enough for it to almost reach special grade level— and due to lack of sorcerers, he was sent to exorcise it alone. It kicked his ass for a while, smart enough to somehow know his weak points, being strategic when it attacked, and hitting hard when it attacked too. It took him an hour to fully exorcise the curse, whereas it would normally take him half of that time, and he didn’t come out unscathed.
(Needless to say, he took a visit to Ieiri-san after that.)
It wasn’t easy, and yet dealing with a grade one curse on his own was still better than having to deal with Itadori and Kugisaki arguing in the middle of the street over where they should get breakfast. They've walked in circles for ten minutes now, bickering about two different places they should go to— Kugisaki wants a boba place, Itadori wants a noodle restaurant. In the end they don’t pick either place, because Megumi leaves them and walks into a random cafe not even three minutes away from their hotel that they’re forced to follow him into. He orders them drinks while they trail in— because he knows Kugisaki drinks excessively sweet coffee when she doesn’t have boba, and Itadori will drink anything— and gets them all eggs and toast.
They sit at a table in the corner and eat, Itadori eating whatever they don't finish— and it’s past eleven by the time they finish, when Itadori clears his throat and drops his fork.
“Not that I don’t mind the free breakfast,” he says, leaning back in his chair, “but what are we doing?”
Megumi and Kugisaki look at each other, then at him.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean,” he breathes, “I'm supposed to be dead. As of— an hour ago.” He looks between them. “Why are we in Toshima?”
Megumi takes a sharp breath and Kugisaki furrows her brows— he watches her swirl what’s left of her coffee around with her straw before turning her gaze onto Itadori— he’s watching both of them achingly, like he regrets bringing it up, but Itadori does deserve a full idea of what their plan is, even if they don’t have it fully thought out.
Kugisaki sits up, expression hardened. “Because it sucks—you deserve more time.”
She says it calmly, with her face in her hand, like it’s a simple thing to say to somebody about their execution. And it is simple, because it does suck and he does deserve more time, but it’s a little ironic how she says it with a stone cold face— because Megumi knows that she’s not as calm as she’s making Itadori think she is.
(And he knows that you deserve more time means We need more time , because it’s what he’s thinking too. But Megumi’s good at minding his business, so he doesn’t say anything.)
Itadori’s eyes widen at her. “Oh.”
He’s quiet after that, and so is Kugisaki, both of them deciding to look down at their respective cups.
Megumi keeps looking at Itadori, his face mimicking Kugisaki’s from earlier— worried brows and a light frown.
“We can go back. If you—really want.”
Itadori takes a deep breath and nods, eyes glossed over as he looks somewhere behind Megumi’s head. “Do you think we’ll be alright by ourselves?”
Megumi and Kugisaki glance at each other again, and she shrugs. “We’ll be fine, just the three of us.”
Itadori nods at her and bites his lip before he looks at Megumi and grins.
“You know, Fushiguro. I’ve never been to Disneyland.”
☆☆☆
Megumi— unsurprising— hates Disneyland.
Itadori and Kugisaki, on the other hand, are having the time of their lives dragging Megumi around from shop to shop, ride to ride, for six whole hours— until he’s shuffling behind them while they’re wearing so much Disneyland merchandise that it looks like they should be the one paid to be here.
(He’s not even entirely sure how Kugisaki got them— two sixteen year olds and a fifteen year old— into the themepark without an adult in the first place, but he’s not sure if he wants to question her about it.)
Megumi’s always been perfectly content to just read about Disneyland and other places like it back in his bare, empty room— he encounters enough adventure being a sorcerer to last a lifetime, dealing with curses on a day-to-day basis, so he’s fine living a simple life outside of that.
Tsumiki was the opposite, though. She raised Megumi the best she could, at eight years old, by letting him choose his own enjoyment, but that didn’t stop her from forcing him to partake in her favorite activities too, in an unsuccessful attempt to make a six year old enjoy things that six year olds are supposed to do— meaning Megumi spent a lot of time swinging dispassionately at the park and braiding hair at sleepovers.
She never took him to Disneyland— though she wanted to, before— but Megumi imagines she would’ve acted somewhat similar to how Itadori and Kugisaki are, except maybe less eating and yelling. And the way Itadori runs back towards him and drags him by his forearm to yet another food stand, ordering them churros while Kugisaki goes who knows where— probably to yell at more people for bumping into her, or to call Maki-san; it isn’t dissimilar from how Tsumiki would drag him around while they were teenagers either— pulling him away from another fight so he could follow her around while she goes out.
Itadori has probably always wanted to go to Disneyland too, since he was little, and it shows: the way he runs off, beaming towards the rides, the food, the shops, like he still is a kid. It makes Megumi wonder, sometimes, what it would’ve been like if he actually knew Itadori— before the curses, before Sukuna. If he met Itadori when he was a kid, would he be someone else to swing next to him at the park, or to have sleepovers with? Or in middle school, would Megumi abandon his simple life to follow Itadori’s adventurous nature too, or would he even spare a glance in his direction if it wasn’t for the inevitability of their encounter?
Would Megumi have fallen for Itadori back then the same way he has now, or were they always meant to be Fushiguro Megumi and Itadori Yuuji, jujutsu sorcerers, living on borrowed time? Would they ever have a chance in some alternate timeline, or are they always destined to be this in every single one of them?
(Tsumiki would’ve loved him, if she knew him back then.)
((And later, when all this ends, would Megumi still tell her about him? If Tsumiki comes back, would Megumi tell her about the boy he fell for? Would he tell her about Itadori Yuuji, the only person as selfless and kind as she was?
Megumi hates jujutsu sorcery— protecting and saving others when he would never really care about them otherwise— and Tsumiki knew that.
Would Megumi tell her about the only person he’s ever saved, just to tell her that he failed him too?))
He doesn’t have enough time to figure it out, because Itadori’s running towards him again, this time with two mouse-shaped churros in hand, smiling at him in a way that makes Megumi’s chest tighten, even if he does look like an idiot in his giant Disneyland sunglasses.
He catches up to where Megumi stands, putting his mouse ears on his head, insisting that Megumi should also have something to wear— and handing him his churro that Megumi quietly thanks him for while they walk out of Tomorrowland and back towards the entrance of the park.
Disneyland is filled with curses roaming around, negative emotions that Megumi can feel emanating off of people— but the three of them, at some point, agreed to ignore lower grade curses, as it was supposed to be a no work all play trip, according to Kugisaki. So that’s what Megumi does, walking back through the World Bazaar building while the sunset shines through the glass roof, ignoring all the cursed energy he can feel around him to listen to Itadori’s voice instead.
He tells Megumi everything he can and more, most of it incomprehensible since he speaks as he chews, but Megumi still listens the best he can and drowns out all the mumbling he can distantly hear from the people around them.
They stop by the Grand Emporium and the confectionery so Itadori can buy more things on their way out of the park where Kugisaki said she’d meet them; she’s not there yet, and she doesn’t get there for another thirty minutes when the Light the Night show starts.
They didn’t want to pay any extra to watch a show held there (although they could’ve— it’s Gojo-sensei’s money anyways.), but the fireworks show is visible throughout the entire park, even outside of it. They’re sitting on a curb by the entrance when it starts— it’s small at first, music slowly beginning while little bursts of yellow and orange shine in the empty sky, before it grows with the music and now purples and pinks and all other colors illuminate the sky so brightly even from this far out.
Megumi hears a soft woah from his side as all the colors join in, and he turns his head to Itadori staring up at the lights, eyes wide and lips parted, infatuatedly, like he’s seeing the sun for the first time. The colors are reflecting back on him too, oranges, yellows too, but also blues and pinks and greens all glimmering across his face and reflecting in his eyes— a canvas of colors that all remind Megumi of what a curse sometimes looks like when it’s being exorcised, something that’s supposed to hold fear and terror, only to feel nothing like that when it’s flickering over Itadori’s face.
He doesn’t realize he’s staring until Itadori notices, mouth quirking up into an embarrassed smile. “I’ve never seen fireworks before,” he whispers.
Megumi blinks at him. “Really?”
He shakes his head and shrugs. “Never really had the chance.”
He turns back towards the sky, so Megumi does too. “Huh.”
Itadori moves, wrapping his arms around his legs, cheek sitting on his knees. “They’re nice. Brighter than I thought.”
Megumi hums, looks down at his hands and picks at the bandaid that’s still there from three weeks ago. It's a little ridiculous— Itadori has seen far more interesting things in his time as a sorcerer than fireworks, but he’s always been the type of person to want to experience things— whether he’s experienced something far more amazing or not, he looks at everything like he’s never seen anything like it before, and appreciates it regardless.
Megumi lifts his head and sighs, taking off the headband that Itadori put on him earlier. He shakes it around in his hand and hears someone yelling ahead of them— a voice he knows yelling, loud enough to be heard over the booming of fireworks. Itadori and him both lower their heads towards the sound, where Kugisaki stands with at least ten bags and yells at some man who looks like he would rather be anywhere else.
Megumi sighs again, more exasperated this time, and stands, putting a hand out for Itadori to grab. “We should probably leave before she causes a scene.”
Itadori grabs his hands— and they’re warm, they’re always warm, like he holds the sun inside of them— and pulls himself up. He smiles. “Okay. Let’s go.”
☆☆☆
Megumi doesn’t have nightmares often. And if he does, he never remembers them. Recently though, Megumi can’t remember a night going by where he hasn’t had one.
Sometimes it’s of himself staring back at him, blood on his hands clothes everywhere , an empty look on his face that’s too empty, even for him. Sometimes it’s of Itadori— chains wrapped around his neck and arms— looking up at Megumi through teary eyes from where he’s bound to the floor at his feet. Sometimes he’s small, no older than four, looking up at the back of a dark-haired man he doesn’t recognize anymore, who’s walking away from him into the only shadow that Megumi can’t reach.
Other times, they’re of Itadori again— this time they’re on a beach, just of two of them, and Itadori’s pulling him through the sand down to the shore, head tilted back as he bursts with laughter. They stop, standing in the water while waves knock against them— just enough to be soothing, not hard enough to knock them over. Itadori hugs him and Megumi hugs back— and it’s a miracle that they have each other here, on whatever beach or in whatever domain they own in Megumi’s mind. He holds Itadori in his arms as he guffaws again, and then pulls away to hold his face and kiss him for the first time, both of them smiling into it so much that they have to break apart, resting their foreheads together. And Itadori chuckles again, open and free, like sunlight, and Megumi watches as he runs off and swims deeper into the ocean— Megumi’s own hands and fingers and lips start burning, aching, like the sun had stained them. He watches Itadori go and go and go, too fast, until the sun swallows him up, until Megumi can’t reach him, until he’s gone.
It’s not necessarily a nightmare, but it makes him burn by the time he wakes up.
But no matter what the nightmare is or how it ends, Megumi always remembers them in the morning.
Itadori, Megumi learns, has nightmares too. Often.
The walls between their rooms at the school aren’t thick enough to prevent Megumi from hearing when he wakes up yelling or confused, or when he gets up and paces around his room or goes for a walk, because moving helps calm him down. And now, in Urayasu, Itadori and Megumi have had to share a room in their hotel (although Kugisaki could definitely get them a three bedroom suite), and Megumi experiences first hand what it’s like for him to have a nightmare— he screams, he whines, and the only thing that can pull him out of it is if Megumi holds him, or shakes him out of his head until he’s wide, wide awake.
(Megumi aches to know what he dreams about, or if it’s not a dream at all, just another way Sukuna can mess with him— regardless, Megumi still holds him the rest of the night and longs to know what puts Itadori in another prison, even in his sleep.)
Megumi has nightmares, Itadori has nightmares. They don’t talk about them, on those nights.
☆☆☆
The farthest place they go is Kyoto.
They’ve been on this trip for eight days now and still haven’t been contacted by anyone other than Maki-san and the other second years— no Gojo, and no higher ups.
It’s six AM and they’re an hour into their three-hour train ride to their next location, which Megumi picked this time, much to Kugisaki’s dismay, and it’s supposed to be a surprise, but Itadori doesn’t like surprises when he’s not a part of them.
“Are we going to the Kyoto school?” Itadori pipes up from the train seat next to him. Kugisaki snorts across from him, not looking up from her phone.
Megumi closes his eyes and leans his head against the window. “You think I’m taking you to the people who wanna kill you?”
He opens his left eye and glances over at Itadori scratching his cheek. “I guess not.”
He huffs, resting his eyes again while Itadori keeps trying to guess.
“Okay we just got on the Tokyo line, we’re going to Kyoto—”
“I’m not gonna tell you if you’re right, Itadori.”
He doesn’t have to look at Itadori to know he’s smiling. “Yes, but you aren’t gonna tell me that I’m wrong if I’m not, right?”
Megumi opens his eyes and looks at the ceiling, and doesn’t respond.
“Are we going to the manga museum?”
He sighs again. “No—”
“Kyoto tower?”
“Itadori please—”
“Are we going to the aquarium?”
Megumi blinks at the ceiling, looks at Itadori out of the corner of his eye and looks back.
“No?”
He sits up. “We’re going to the aquarium!”
“How did you—” he pauses, turning towards Kugisaki. “Did you tell him?”
She looks up and glares at him. “Why would I tell him?”
“Then how—” he starts, breaking off when Itadori yawns loudly and drops his head on his shoulder.
“Thanks Megumi,” he shuts his eyes, burrowing his cheek harder against Megumi. “I appreciate it.”
He blinks at Itadori, whose mouth hangs open and cheek is smushed against his shoulder blade in a way that doesn’t look comfortable.
“You’re—welcome,” he murmurs. Kugisaki snorts again, smirking knowingly at him. He scowls at her, and turns away, cheeks warming up.
☆☆☆
There are a lot of curses at the Kyoto aquarium.
It’s not surprising at all but it’s hard to ignore sometimes when there are so many curses around him and in the water, surrounded by enough dead fish that the workers are starting to test the water to figure out what’s killing them.
Itadori makes it his mission to ignore them though, because he pulls Megumi around like he can’t even see any of them, making a very good distraction for Megumi.
Kugisaki is somewhere behind them but she told them they can go off on their own and she’ll meet them towards the end.
( “Have fun on your date Fushiguro,” she taunted, and then stomped away when he told her to “Tell Maki-san we say hi.” )
They reached the shark tanks and Itadori gasped like a little kid, taking Megumi’s hand in his own and running to get closer.
“Woah,” he says. “I think I’d like to be a shark. If I wasn’t a person.”
“Why a shark?”
“They’re cool! And it’d be cool to talk with weird noises like they do.”
Megumi creases his brows. “Sharks don’t echolocate Itadori.”
Itadori stares, unnerved. “They don’t what?”
Megumi opens his mouth to explain, but thinks better of it. “Nevermind.”
They leave the shark tanks eventually and go see the dolphins and feed seals, and end up in the Jellyfish Wonder arch an hour later, where Itadori sprints ahead of him and stands in the globe, taking photos of the moon jellies. Megumi watches him from a distance.
He was ten when he first went to an aquarium. The one in Saitama wasn’t much compared to the one in Kyoto, but Tsumiki was going with her friends, and she couldn’t leave Megumi home by himself.
He went through, barely sparing a glance at the fish and just lingering behind Tsumiki and her friends while they ran around like the kids they were. He got lost at some point, too slow or too careless to keep up, and followed a tour group around till he got to the outdoor exhibits. He went from the river shark pond to the eel workshop to the carp pond and he stayed out there for at least an hour until Tsumiki found him and dragged him away, berating him for getting lost.
They left afterwards, because Tsumiki got too concerned about losing Megumi, and she didn’t let him out of her sight for a long time after that incident. He doesn’t know how she truly felt that day, but now Megumi thinks that it was probably similar to how he felt the first day he met Itadori.
The way Itadori looked passed out in Gojo-sensei’s arms, peaceful and still, while it was in Megumi’s hands to decide what was gonna happen to him. And after the exchange event, Megumi barely let the boy out of his sight for weeks. It was different from Tsumiki, the concern he felt for Itadori, but Megumi thinks he could kind of understand why she wouldn’t leave Megumi alone after that day.
And it isn’t very different now, at the Kyoto aquarium, watching Itadori a few meters in front of him— the way he’s wide awake now, but his face still manages to look just as blissful and calm. How his eyes are blown out against the glass and his freckles are shining deeper in the light, both of which are normally a light-brown but now bathed in blue reflecting onto him, his pink hair a light shade of purple now too.
It makes Megumi think back to that first day and how he managed to get Gojo-sensei to postpone Itadori’s execution— and now, his execution was supposed to be a week ago, and he managed to stop it this time too.
Megumi wonders how much longer he can try saving Itadori before his time runs out— how much time he has left to keep Itadori away and stop the world from drowning him.
(And if he does drown, would Megumi go with him? Would he go down saving Itadori?
Looking at Itadori now, the blues bouncing off of his face, freckles and eyes that might not hold all the constellations in the world, but sure as hell look like they could— looking at him, smiling at the jellyfish, Megumi thinks that maybe, drowning wouldn’t be so bad.)
Itadori continues taking pictures of the jellyfish when Kugisaki appears, seemingly out of nowhere, behind Megumi.
“You’re so creepy. And gross.”
Megumi shifts and glares down at her.
“How was Maki-san?”’
She grimaces at him and turns her head, blushing. “Shut the hell up.”
He smirks, a small thing, and shuts the hell up.
They wait there for a minute before Kugisaki sighs next to him. “I can hear you thinking. Can practically feel the tension up there.”
Megumi’s eye twitches at her and he stuffs his hands in his pockets. She gives him an unimpressed look, like she isn’t gonna stop questioning him— and she probably won’t— so he looks back at Itadori and responds.
“What if we keep doing this?”
Kugisaki’s brows furrow. “Huh?”
He sighs, shoulders lifting. “What if we keep running? If we don’t go back?”
Her eyes widen and she’s silent for a moment too long, before she continues. “ You —are an idiot,” she says, “don’t burden him with that talk.”
He blinks at her, eyebrows creasing. “What?”
Kugisaki huffs. “Itadori is Itadori. He can run , but he doesn’t run away, ever. We had to kidnap him to bring him on this trip.”
She rubs her nose, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Do you remember when you said not to tell Itadori about Sukuna’s fingers resonating with him?” she asks, grinning.
He stares at her, not saying anything, so she shakes her head and gestures to Itadori. “I hid it from him because I didn’t think that was something he needed to know.”
She smiles at Megumi, softly.
“But Itadori thinks his whole life was leading up to his— to it. So you aren’t a burden to him, but hiding him away from what he thinks his purpose is, is. He’s been preparing for it for months. So don’t burden him with this—optimism.”
He stares down at his feet, biting his lip. Megumi isn’t an optimist, in the sense of the word. As a jujutsu sorcerer he’s been prepared to make sacrifices in the past, and whether it’s himself or something else, he wouldn’t hesitate to do it in order to win. Logically, he knew the reality of saving Itadori, and Megumi was never someone to argue with it.
So it’s a special kind of pain— to hear Kugisaki tell him all the things that he already knew— one that Megumi thinks he might deserve.
“How are you so calm about this?”
She puckers, shrugging.
“People live and people die. I don’t think too hard about it past that.” She shifts, blowing a strand of hair from her eyes. “I’m gonna miss him when he does, you know. But he’s here for now, and that’s all I’m worried about right now.”
He grimaces, because she’s right, again, and glances at the fish tank across the room. Two jellyfish are tangled together, trying desperately to separate.
“That’s not how it should be.”
Kugisaki smiles, benevolently. “But it’s how it is.”
He grits his teeth, clenching his fists in his pocket and turning back to Itadori who— isn’t taking photos anymore, phone forgotten in his hand resting by his side, deciding to just stare into the glass instead, his eyes unfocused and mouth pulled down. Megumi goes over and grabs his empty hand, squeezing it until he shakes his head and meets his eye. Megumi raises his eyebrows in question.
Kugisaki walks over and Itadori just nods timidly. Whatever was wrong though, he covers up with a giddy smile, and pulls on Megumi’s hand.
“C’mon, we haven’t seen the penguins.”
☆☆☆
“ Whoa Kugisaki, you really stepped your game up!” Itadori runs into their room, bouncing onto the bed in the middle and kicking his feet around.
Kugisaki has, in fact, stepped her game up, and apparently doesn’t have any left over guilt about stealing Gojo-sensei’s credit card (if she had any to begin with), because this Kyoto hotel they just walked into has to be double the cost of any of the other hotels they’ve stayed in since they left.
The girl in question just smirks and pushes her hair out of her face. “There’s a reason I’m the one picking these.”
Itadori sits up. “Oh, let’s rent a movie!”
They both groan while Itadori grabs the TV remote and scrolls through the channels.
“Itadori, we just spent four hours walking through the aquarium, twice , and then got groceries. Can we just rest?”
He looks at him and pouts. “But they have so many good ones.”
Kugisaki passes him and grabs the remote from Itadori. “Only if we watch a drama.”
Itadori blinks at her. “But I wanna watch an action movie right now.”
Her eyes roll. “Action movies are boring.”
Itadori hunches over and squints at her, “they’re action movies.”
Kugisaki curls her lip and turns to Megumi. “What do you wanna watch?”
His own eyes do a half-roll, and he drops the bags and walks over to sit on Itadori’s other side of the bed. He leans back against the headboard, Kugisaki and Itadori both watching him attentively— he would love to just rest, maybe read his book, but Megumi isn’t stupid enough to believe that they would give him the chance to.
He breathes out through his nose. “Action.”
Itadori cheers and Kugisaki grunts. “Of course you side with him. ”
Itadori grins at Megumi and jumps off the bed towards the grocery bags. “I’ll make snacks!”
“I didn’t buy popcorn,” Kugisaki deadpans. “Or candy.”
Itadori stops and looks at her— it’s silent, for a moment too long, before he speaks up again.
“ What do you mean you didn’t buy popcorn?”
“ Why would I buy popcorn?”
“We’re watching a movie!”
“How was I supposed to know that!”
They keep yelling and Megumi exhales, hitting his head against the wall.
It’s gonna be a long night.
☆☆☆
They get caught in Saitama.
They only stayed in Kyoto for two more days before taking the three-hour train ride to Saitama early in the morning— they shop when they get there, and Megumi takes them to a cafe he used to go to.
He doesn’t come back here very often, anymore. Tsumiki was moved into a new hospital in Tokyo after Megumi moved there, so he never had a reason to visit.
That was until now, when Itadori and Kugisaki insisted on stopping by Megumi’s hometown.
The cafe isn’t much, a small, gray building on the corner of the street, but Itadori looks like he’s about to pass out with all the shopping bags he’s carrying (thank you Kugisaki), so Megumi took them to the closest place he could find and ordered them drinks and breakfast plates.
He came back to Itadori, bags discarded around him, resting his cheek on the table, and Kugisaki leaning back on her chair, her head hanging over the edge.
Itadori groans, sitting up when Megumi puts their plates down. “No more morning train rides.”
Kugisaki nods in agreement and Megumi hums, sipping his coffee while they start devouring their food.
The sun’s up now, shining brightly through the windows, and more people start coming into the cafe, filling up seats. They barely talk while they eat, and ten minutes later the food is practically gone, Itadori eating whatever’s left off of Megumi and Kugisaki’s plates. He lays back and rests a hand on his stomach.
The bell above the door rings and somebody comes in. Itadori burps, “I ate too much, I’m gonna explode.”
The bell chimes, someone leaves with it.
“You always eat too much, stop being dramatic.”
It chimes again, someone comes in.
“No Kugisaki, I’m serious this time. This is it for me.”
“Is it really?”
“Yeah it is.”
Megumi hears a distant, enthusiastic voice, ordering from the counter. He keeps glancing between Itadori and Kugisaki.
“Fights curses and eats fingers for a living, and a bunch of toast is gonna kill him.”
Itadori lifts his head, eyebrows raised and eyes wide, like he had an epiphany. “Do you think Sukuna’s messing with my stomach?” And ah— he did.
Kugisaki thins her lips. “I don’t think it works that way.”
He pouts. “Why else would it hurt so badly?”
“Maybe because you just ate thirty pieces of toast.”
“I don’t think so—”
“ I’m gonna have to agree with Nobara on this one Yuuji, ” somebody says from behind them. “I’ve never been here before, but thirty pieces of toast from anywhere can’t be good for anybody.”
They all jump in their seats and turn around to look at the person standing behind them, familiar white hair and blindfold that matches his familiar, obnoxious voice.
It’s silent, for a minute, and Gojo walks around to the empty seat in front of Megumi, slamming his sweet tea on the table and smirking. “Well now that I think about it, maybe I do recognize this place. Feeling nostalgic, Megumi?”
Megumi grits his teeth and drops his head down to the table. Next to him, Kugisaki and Itadori stare at Gojo, jaws dropped comically low.
“ Gojo-sensei?” they say in unison.
Gojo turns to them. “ Yuuji! Nobara! What’s the matter, you two look like you’ve seen a ghost?”
Itadori’s face twitches. “Wha— how are you here?”
He sticks out his bottom lip, putting his hand to his chest. “Yuuji, do you think I wouldn’t know how to find my own students? I’m a little hurt.”
“ Why are you here?” Megumi asks, giving him a hard expression.
Gojo turns to him and then his eyes float between the three of them— Itadori still staring at him while rubbing at the back of his hand, and Kugisaki watching him, arms wrapped around herself.
“Oh, don’t worry. You’re not in trouble.”
They gape at him.
He purses his lips.
“Well, no. You are. Big time.” He nods. “But not with me.”
Itadori’s back tauts, a number of emotions showing on his face and Megumi can’t figure out what they mean.
Gojo leans back in his chair and sighs, crossing one leg over the other. “So. How’s your little vacation going?”
They stare at him— Megumi glares, Kugisaki clicks her tongue and rolls her eyes, and Itadori tuts his lip out— and don’t respond.
“Ah, you guys are no fun— I’ll get right to it then, I guess” he sits up and turns towards Itadori, “ You — well, all of you— have to come back.”
Megumi and Kugisaki suck in a breath. Itadori slouches, but doesn’t look shocked. “Oh.”
Gojo bobs his head. “Not yet though.”
Itadori’s eyes grow. “Oh.”
Gojo waves his hand. “But eventually. Three weeks exactly.”
Itadori’s eyebrows crease, confused now, and he turns to Megumi and back to Gojo. “...Oh?”
Gojo blows out and slumps, stooping his head back and rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I’ve been— stalling for you for the past eleven days. But unfortunately, I can’t do it forever.”
He looks back at Itadori. “I give the higher ups two more weeks—before they realize I’m messing with them. And then another week after that for them to actually find you.”
Gojo snaps twice then claps, “which means,” he points finger guns at Itadori, “you have three weeks.”
It’s silent for a hiccup too long, but then Itadori takes a deep breath and nods, rubbing his wrist.
“Okay.”
Megumi looks at Kugisaki and back to Itadori— they all knew this would happen eventually, but it was nice, to live like this, ignorant and blind to their responsibilities. To be kids for once, living a normal life outside of a society of sorcerers who don’t care for anything but their own power. It was nice for Megumi, who never got to be a child himself, to spend time with the two most childish people he knows and act like he resents them for it, when he’s actually thankful for that semblance of normalcy.
Gojo-sensei got Megumi out of the Zen’in clan by making him promise to live his life as a sorcerer; his whole life has been predetermined for him, and running away from that, even if only for a few weeks, has given him the chance to see a life outside of all of it— outside of a society that doesn’t care for its own people and allows a fifteen year old like Itadori to be executed for becoming something he didn’t ask for— a life with Itadori, Kugisaki too, where he’s here and not having to look over his shoulder every minute, where he can be the fifteen year old boy he is.
Gojo-sensei has a vision to change the jujutsu society from what it is, and to raise a new group of people to take over. Megumi’s a jujutsu sorcerer. He’s seen what it’s done to Tsumiki, to Okkotsu-senpai, to Gojo-sensei, and to Itadori. Megumi hopes, he hopes that Gojo’s right, but he also thinks some things that are already so ruined can’t be fixed that fast. This road trip has been nice, yes, but it also clouded Megumi’s judgement enough to believe that they wouldn’t have to go back— that they could stay away and not have to deal with the repercussions of running. And now Gojo-sensei’s here, and Megumi remembers what all those repercussions were in the first place.
So he looks at Itadori who’s still looking down, who has accepted Gojo’s terms with no hesitation, and he doesn’t argue— and it makes Megumi sting, to hear Gojo-sensei give them a countdown to the day they have to return, the day Itadori leaves, and to not say anything. To not object and say no, we can’t let that happen, I can’t let that happen, when it’s all he’s thinking.
But Megumi’s a jujutsu sorcerer, and he always will be. He has known this would happen since the day he saved Itadori Yuuji.
He’s used to grieving the living.
Gojo stands, chair squeaking against the wood floor and dragging their attention to him. “Well, if there’s nothing else— oh! I brought sweets!,” he reaches into his bag, dropping a black box onto the table and putting his hand on Itadori’s shoulder.
He clears his throat. “Have fun, Yuuji,” he turns to Megumi, looking at him knowingly, even through his blindfold. “I’ll see you soon.”
He rubs Kugisaki’s head and then he’s gone, leaving just the three of them sitting there again in an uncomfortable silence— Kugisaki’s jaw resting in her hand while she taps at her temple and Itadori now fiddling with his thumbs.
Kugisaki takes a breath and sits up, looking at Itadori when she speaks, too quietly for her.
“Are you guys ready to go?”
Itadori nods, wide-eyed. Megumi grunts in agreement and Kugisaki stands, the boys following, when Itadori’s phone starts ringing.
His nose scrunches and he pulls his phone out from his pocket and looks at the screen, face twisting into shock. He shakes his head around.
“Who is it?” Megumi asks.
“Oh— it’s. Nanamin.” He winces. “I didn’t know he kept my phone number.”
He looks between them, unsure, and Kugisaki crosses her arms.
“Go answer, we’ll wait outside.”
Itadori goes to the bathroom, and they go outside where Kugisaki walks over to the big tree stump by the cafe and sits, and Megumi follows. The sun’s fully risen now, beaming down from above them through the trees with a slight breeze drifting towards them, blowing their hair around— and they don’t speak. Kugisaki, staring straight ahead with her purse in her lap, sitting right next to Megumi, a silence between them that’s almost too uncomfortable to stand.
“It’s nice out here,” says Kugisaki, a phantom of a whisper that almost gets blown away with the wind. Megumi doesn’t look at her, just hums in agreement and keeps looking at the fluorescent lights on the building ahead of him, glowing brighter when clouds start passing over the sun.
Wordlessly, she zips her purse open and pulls out a packet of gum, putting one in her mouth and handing another to Megumi. He takes it, mumbling a thanks, and then it’s quiet again.
Megumi knows this silence, he knows why it’s there and Kugisaki knows too. There’s nothing for them to say now, after what Gojo-sensei just told them, while they wait for Itadori’s phone call with Nanami to end.
So they don’t say anything, set to just sit there in silence for however long it takes for Itadori to finish so they can leave, go to their hotel and stay there until they get tired of sitting around there too.
The sun comes back out, and Itadori walks out a couple minutes later, looking down at his phone. They both stand and watch him, his eyes a little teary and red rimmed, and he sniffles.
Megumi grabs his empty hand before he can think not to and squeezes it. Itadori rubs his thumb against the back of Megumi’s.
“Everything okay?”
He’s smiling at Megumi again, still so widely even now.
“Yeah,” he says, nudging Kugisaki, “where are we going next?”
She looks between the two of them and rolls her eyes, then turns to walk away. “The hotel. I’m tired.”
Itadori starts walking after her, dragging Megumi along with his hand that’s still holding his, all of Kugisaki’s bags hanging from his other arm.
It’s a twenty minute walk to the hotel and they take it in silence. It’s a weirder silence this time, with Kugisaki and Itadori— a different kind than when Itadori isn’t there. A silence that Megumi used to cherish when he’s with the two of them, that now feels more like an emptiness than a peacefulness.
Right now, Megumi knows three things:
Number one— he spent sixteen years getting used to silence, and was just now getting used to all the eight months of chatter from his classmates.
(After these three weeks, how long will it take him to adjust to the silence again?)
Number two— It’s quiet, but there’s a lot being said in it, too: the way Kugisaki stands by Megumi, shoulder to shoulder while they brush against each other occasionally. And how Itadori, on the other side of Megumi, stands so close to him that their shoulders brush too, and he’s still holding Megumi’s hand, as if it’d be too painful to let it go.
(How long will it take Megumi to get used to having no hand in his again? To only have one person filling one side of him, brushing one shoulder? To fill the void that Itadori is gonna to leave?)
And number three— Itadori is quiet.
(Itadori Yuuji, is never quiet.)
It’s quiet until they walk through the dimmed hall to their room and step in when Itadori speaks up, finally, and he and Kugisaki discuss something that Megumi isn’t listening to, just thankful that the silence is filled while he walks into the bedroom.
He can see the mountains from their windows, all the way past the city— he only left Saitama a year ago, but he doesn’t remember much of it, or at least, Megumi doesn’t recognize this place as somewhere he used to call home. He does have a good memory— he knows the mountains from when Tsumiki and he would watch them through their own apartment windows, and he knows the city and remembers it too, the places, people. And then Gojo-sensei came into Megumi’s life, Tsumiki got cursed, and Megumi left Saitama behind and all those memories of home and familiarity to become a jujutsu sorcerer in a new city he barely knew, by himself.
By himself, until Itadori and Kugisaki showed up.
He’s still looking at the mountains when he hears Kugisaki say something, followed by a burst of laughter from Itadori, a laugh that he hasn’t heard all day and maybe even longer than that. Kugisaki raises her voice, scolding Itadori for laughing at whatever she said to him, and Megumi smiles to himself, a little lift at the corners of his mouth.
They have three weeks left before they have to go back. So for now, Megumi takes his shoes off and walks back into the other room where Kugisaki’s still chastising Itadori for whatever it is he did, and he sits with them— and for a little while, he lets himself feel at home again.
☆☆☆
Megumi doesn’t like the winter.
It’s almost over now, so it’s more of the in between where it’s too cold and gloomy to be spring, but still not enough to exactly be winter.
Still, though, Megumi’s cold all the time, and he doesn’t like the extra chill.
Curses also manifest more during holiday season, because anytime there’s a surge of positive emotions, another surge of negative ones come with it, and Megumi has to work extra, exorcising curses on his holiday break.
So he likes to stay inside when it’s too cold to go out, reading a book or just resting, if he can. And while Itadori and Kugisaki like going out sometimes too, they also understand that it’s nice to stay inside.
Which is nice for Megumi, except it’s his turn to buy them groceries and snacks for their movie night, so he has to go out in the cold anyways.
(He’s also the only one who knows where the closest convenience store is anyways, or at least that’s Kugsaki’s excuse so that she doesn’t have to go.)
It’s midnight when he walks out of the store, two bags in hand, and gets hit with the cold breeze that immediately makes him shiver. He stands at the end of the street and sighs, and he can see his breath, waiting for the light to change so he can walk across it. It’s a full moon today, and the sky is filled with all the stars that can be visible in a city with thousands of lights, which isn’t many, but there’s a few that flicker to life occasionally. He shuts his eyes, listening to cars passing and the faint humming of the street lights above him.
“You know you shouldn’t be out so late by yourself Megumi. It’s not safe.”
Megumi turns his head to the side, where Gojo-sensei sits on a metal bench.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Gojo just smirks, looking at Megumi through the top of his sunglasses— his sunglasses, that he’s wearing at midnight. “I told you that I’d see you soon, didn’t I?”
Megumi stares, face unmoving until Gojo straightens, tapping the spot next to him. “C’mon. Sit. I think we should have a chat.”
The light changes in Megumi’s periphery and he has half a mind to just book it and run back to the hotel, if only to avoid whatever it is Gojo wants to talk to him about. But he won’t, and sensei knows he won’t, because he just keeps smirking and tapping the seat next to him, beckoning him over. Megumi goes, dropping into the cold spot with his grocery bags swaying between him.
“How’d you actually know we were here?”
Gojo's lip turns and he crosses his arms. “It is upsetting that my own students really don’t believe that I pay attention to them.”
Gojo raises his brows.
Megumi raises his back, unimpressed.
He sighs. “Hm. That , and my credit card company is a little concerned about why I’ve spent so much money on hotels around Japan. Very nice hotels, too, by the way. You outdid yourselves.”
He hunches over. “Kugisaki did it.”
Gojo hums, delightedly, and turns his gaze towards the sky.
“You know, Megumi. When I told you a couple months ago that you should be greedier, this isn’t what I meant,” he thinks for a moment, “quite the opposite, actually.”
Megumi furrows his brows and Gojo just smiles, knowingly.
“You can’t avoid your problems by running away, Me-gum-i .”
He slouches again, lifting his gaze back up towards the sky. There’s a streetlight hanging right above him, flickering and shining right into his eyes, preventing him from seeing anything past it. A breeze rushes past him, blowing wind through his hair and eyes until they start watering. He closes them.
“I can try.”
Gojo hums. “You can. You are. It won’t last forever though.”
He says it so calmly, enthusiastically, that you would think he sounds satisfied by Megumi’s failure if it was coming from anyone other than Gojo.
“I know that you might not want advice from me Megumi, but you know that I’m right,” he keeps going, head bowed. “I wish I wasn’t, but running from this one isn’t gonna stop it. I’m sorry.”
Another breeze passes by and rustles Megumi’s grocery bags and Megumi glances at them. Gojo doesn’t say anything else, looking at the floor instead. It’s a little harsh, maybe, but Megumi knows he’s right. Gojo intervened on the Zen’in clan issue when Megumi was six— and even then, he helped Megumi and Tsumiki pay their bills and get into the school, but Gojo never treated Megumi like a kid through any of it, not once. And as someone who has known Gojo for a long time, he knows embarrassingly little about him outside of what Gojo shares with them. Megumi’s fine with that— he doesn’t want to know everything about the man— but he knows enough about him to recognize when he knows he’s right.
It’s a little hypocritical though— Gojo asked Megumi what he wanted to do with Itadori back in June, and Megumi asked him to help. Then he watched him die and come back to life. And the whole time , Gojo was there, smirking at Megumi and giving him a satisfying look that, even through the blindfold, could irritate Megumi to his core.
So it is a little hypocritical of Gojo-sensei to say that Megumi can’t stop this, when he could do— and has done— it all by himself.
“ You could stop it.” Megumi tells him. “You could kill all the higher ups.”
Gojo considers this, taking a deep breath in, eyelids raising while he looks at Megumi through his sunglasses.
“Ah. I could.” he remarks, tapping the bridge of his glasses. “You think Yuuji would want that?”
“I would want it.”
Gojo purses his lips. “Really? Why?”
Megumi tenses, self-conscious. “Is that so bad?”
Gojo thinks for a moment. “Mm. Not bad at all, depending on how you look at it. Do you think Yuuji would be okay with it though?”
Megumi grinds his teeth, feeling the slight ache on his temple, and looks away.
Gojo rubs his own temple. “Megumi, I’m not not doing anything because I don’t want to, I’m not doing anything because Yuuji wouldn’t want me to,” he tells him, pausing when Megumi shifts uncomfortably.
“I could kill all the higher ups, even if it is a temporary solution, but all that would do is put more blood on Yuuji’s hands,” he flicks Megumi’s forehead, “you know Yuuji better than any of us, and you know what he’s been through this past year.
“Even if they are a bunch of assholes, Yuuji wouldn’t want more people to die so he can live,” he continues, leaning back against the cold metal of the bench, gaze still on Megumi.
“He’s had enough blood on his hands, don’t you think?”
It’s not his fault , Megumi wants to say, but Gojo knows that. It’s not Gojo’s fault, either. As much as Megumi would love to blame him and be angry at him, he knows he can’t— Gojo’s doing what he can, which is more than Megumi could say for himself.
It could be Megumi’s fault— Itadori saved Megumi when he ate that finger back in June, and Megumi saved him back; and now, Itadori’s still doomed to be executed after eight months of whatever chaos and pain he’s experienced, all because Megumi saved him.
He told Kugisaki that Itadori wouldn’t be satisfied with more people dying just because he saved Megumi, and as much as it pains him to say now, Megumi knows that Gojo’s right, again— Itadori wouldn’t want any more deaths to happen for him to be saved all over again.
Megumi bites his lip. “I feel like I failed him.”
“You didn’t.”
He waits. “But I—“
“—I know what it’s like to fail a person, Megumi,” he interrupts. “You haven’t failed Yuuji.”
Megumi’s eyebrows knit together and his eyes drift over to Gojo, now looking away from him. He— doesn’t know what Gojo’s talking about, but then again, he never really does know what the man is saying.
The streetlight above him flickers once more, before it goes out completely and Megumi tilts his head up to look at the sky now that the light isn’t in his way. The moon’s shining unbelievably bright down on him— it’s so small, minuscule, from where he is, and he wonders sometimes what it would be like to reach out— to touch something that isn’t close enough to touch but sometimes feels like if he tried, he could feel the surface of it— all the cracks and divots and imperfections that lay there.
Regardless, he doesn’t reach out. He sits on the too-cold bench and just looks instead.
He exhales after a while, he doesn’t know how long. “It’s not fair.”
Gojo nods. “No it’s not.”
Megumi has spent his whole life treating people unfairly, he knows life isn’t fair for anybody, and he’s got used to his own life being unfair a long time ago. Tsumiki was a good person, undoubtedly, and she was still given an unfair reality. Itadori Yuuji is a good person. Megumi has watched Itadori’s unfair treatment since he met the boy, and he knows that if anybody deserves a fair life, it should be Itadori. He knows unfairness, so why is it still so hard to accept now?
The streetlight flickers back on again, blinding Megumi. He doesn’t look away.
“It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Things don’t always make sense Megumi. Otherwise the world would be a lot better. Or worse, maybe.”
His nose wrinkles. “But why couldn’t this make sense? Of all things.”
Gojo hums, for the third time. “If I knew the answer to that, I don’t think we would be here right now—plus, I don’t think you’d want it to make sense, in any case.
“Take it from me— trying to make sense of situations like this will just make them hurt more.”
Megumi exhales and hunches over again, and Gojo chuckles and pats him on the back. “
Ah
, young love,” he puts his hands on his knees, pushing himself up, “It’s the worst.”
( Love. Megumi ignores it.)
He scoffs while Gojo leans over, stretching out his back.
“Like you would know,” he mumbles.
Gojo-sensei smirks, too gently for him, and reaches out to ruffle Megumi’s stiff, cold hair. “I’ll do my best to work this out, Megumi. But no promises.”
He grimaces and swats his hand away. Gojo relents, putting his hands in his pockets.
“This isn’t your fault either, Megumi,” he says swiftly, and Megumi goes rigid beside him. “Don’t feel guilty for saving him.”
He tilts his head towards Gojo again, who’s still looking down at him, deliberately— in a way that lets Megumi know that Gojo knows what he’s thinking even if he doesn’t admit it— which is infuriating for Megumi; he doesn’t know much about Gojo, but Gojo seems to read Megumi like an open book when it matters.
He rolls his eyes carelessly, waving Gojo off. “Yeah yeah. Just—leave.”
Gojo smiles and waves, and then he’s gone, and Megumi is left to watch him leave until he’s just a speck in the distance.
The wind blows again, and it’s getting unbearably cold outside. He sits on that bench for a long, long time.
☆☆☆
It’s pitch black when Megumi walks back into the hotel room.
By the time he made his way back, it was half-past midnight, and now it’s silent and dark in their room except for the quiet noise from the TV. He goes through the mini hall to the couch where Itadori and Kugisaki are both sleeping, Kugisaki curled into herself in the small chair on the side and Itadori laid out across the couch.
He places the grocery bags on the counter next to him, taking his shoes off and stepping over to them— the TV’s still on, playing some Jennifer Lawrence movie that Megumi didn’t bother learning the name of, so he shuts it off, filling the room in almost total darkness, save for the lamp in the very corner.
He grabs a fluffy blanket on the small table next to the TV and shuffles over to Kugisaki, laying it on top of her so she doesn’t get cold, and then goes over to the couch that Itadori’s laying on and kneels in front of him.
He’s breathing gently, delicately, cheek squished into the pillow and mouth hanging open slightly while he snores. He always sleeps the same way, Megumi’s noticed over the past few days— with his arms wrapped around himself, like he’s trying to hold himself close. He’s wearing Megumi’s jacket, he realizes— his jujutsu tech one that he brought on this trip for no reason. He wasn’t wearing it when Megumi left.
He crouches there and watches him for who knows how long, chest moving up and down with every shallow breath he takes.
He breathes in, and breathes back out. What if we don’t go back?
He breathes in again, yawning slightly on the exhale. Don’t burden him with this.
He shifts on his next breath in, a strand of his pink hair falling onto his forehead. Megumi pushes it away.
He’s had enough blood on his hands, don’t you think?
He breathes out deeper this time, consciously, eyebrows knotting together as he wakes, and Megumi moves his thumb from Itadori’s forehead to the space between his brows, smoothing it out. His eyes crack open then, and he squints up at Megumi, mumbling a soft “ hey ‘shiguro, you okay?” and rubbing at his eye with the back of his hand.
Megumi’s heart clenches, and he rubs between Itadori’s eyebrows once more before moving his hand to his cheek, brushing his thumb against the freckles that lay there, right below his under-eye scar.
“Hey,” Megumi whispers, gingerly. “I didn’t mean to wake you—go back to sleep.”
I watched you die once.
Itadori smiles at him, drowsy and unconscious, and Megumi moves his hand one more time to the corner of his mouth now, fingers resting against it until the smile dissipates— while he settles back down into a peaceful, blissful sleep— and long after that too.
I don’t think I can do it again.
☆☆☆
Megumi wakes up to someone shaking him.
He left Itadori and Kugisaki sleeping in the living room when he got back and took one of the beds, immediately falling asleep, and now, probably not even two whole hours later, he’s being woken up by his roommate shouting at him.
It takes him a minute to figure out what’s happening, but when he does, he leans over and tries to turn the lamp on, only for it to stay off. He blinks through the darkness instead, and when his eyes focus enough, pink hair and a ridiculously large smile fill his vision.
“Itadori wha—”
“ Fushiguro, get up.”
Megumi sits up, partially unwillingly since Itadori is practically pulling Megumi out of bed, and rubs his eyes. He glances at the clock next to his bed, but it’s not turned on.
“What time is it?”
Itadori pauses. “I don’t know,” he says, and starts pulling on Megumi’s hands again, “but c’mon, I wanna show you something!”
He keeps pulling and Megumi lets him, begrudgingly, and he barely has time to grab a hoodie before Itadori pulls him out of the bedroom and through the main area to the front door.
Kugisaki is awake now too, sitting on the same chair with her knees pulled up and the blanket on, her phone resting over them while she types on it (texting Maki, probably), and she spares them a confused glance that Megumi can’t return before he’s being dragged out the door. Itadori does, however, yell out “ roof!” before he’s dragging Megumi away.
Their hotel has a sky spa and a deck on the roof that Itadori is apparently taking Megumi to, which also definitely closed at least three hours ago, but Itadori doesn’t seem to care about that as he swipes their key card and opens the rooftop door.
Megumi’s ready to protest, or at least ask Itadori what he’s planning, but he steps onto the roof and looks out, and any words he was ready to say disappear.
Tsumiki has taught him about stars and constellations before, but you can never see them in Saitama with all the city lights and street lights— but right now, there are almost no lights on around them and the sky is filled with so many stars that it makes Megumi feel infinitesimally small.
He looks back down at Itadori, who’s smiling at him, shyly.
He waves his hand around. “The power went out.”
“In the whole city?”
Itadori sticks his lip out. “I don’t know, I think there was a storm earlier. The lights over there are still on though,” he points, then scratches the back of his neck. “But I saw the sky from our window, and I thought you’d—” he trails off, looking away from Megumi and at the sky.
Megumi stares at Itadori, mouth dropped slightly in disbelief. He looks unsure of himself now, cheeks turning red, like he can’t tell whether or not bringing Megumi up here was a good idea— which is stupid, because it is a good idea, even if it means waking him up before five AM. Itadori’s still wearing his jacket too, and Megumi realizes that his own hoodie is still resting in his hand, and it’s borderline freezing outside in his thin t-shirt.
Megumi has never felt more warm.
He throws on his hoodie anyway and walks over to Itadori so they’re shoulder to shoulder, and he bumps them together.
“It’s nice. Thank you.”
Megumi feels him relax a little, leaning into his side.
“My grandpa used to take me to see the stars.”
He glances at Itadori, still looking up at the sky, a small smile on his face. He hums encouragingly.
Itadori hums back. “Before he got sick he would take me to the mountains in Sendai to look at them,” he smiles to himself. “It was nice.”
Megumi blinks at him. “Do you miss it?”
He raises his eyebrows at Megumi and shrugs. “He yelled at me a lot on the trips. I don’t miss that,” he shifts, resting his weight on one leg, “But it was still nice at the time, yeah.”
That doesn’t answer Megumi’s question, really, but he lets it slide anyway.
Itadori doesn’t talk about his grandfather often, or anybody he’s lost before, but Megumi knows the impact he has on Itadori— how he became a sorcerer because of the curse his grandfather left him with.
And it’s funny— how everything with Itadori started with a curse, and now it’s ending with one too.
A bolt of lightning strikes behind Itadori, followed by a clap of thunder. Megumi’s brows furrow at Itadori.
“Do you regret this?”
Itadori moves, sticking his tongue out. “Well, he would be hard on me sometimes, but I wouldn’t say I regret the—”
“No. I mean do you regret becoming a jujutsu sorcerer?”
Itadori’s eyes grow, and he scratches the back of his neck. “Oh. I mean, do you?”
“I didn’t really have a choice either way.”
He smiles awkwardly. “Neither did I.”
Megumi deflates. Clouds are rolling in now, covering up most of the stars as they go.
He lowers his gaze to his feet instead. “What if you had one?”
Itadori scratches at his cheek.
“Sorry. I’m confused.”
“No, I—” He pauses. “I mean if you had a choice. Would you have regretted it?”
Itadori’s face scrunches up and he thinks for a moment, biting the inside of his cheek. He opens his mouth to speak, but a surge of thunder interrupts him, and before either of them can take another breath, it starts pouring.
Megumi lowers his head, reaching for the hood of his hoodie to put it up, only to realize he grabbed his sweatshirt , which doesn’t actually have a hood.
He uses his arms to cover up the top of his head instead, and he opens his mouth to tell Itadori they should go back in, but the thunder dies down a little, enough for Megumi to hear that Itadori—
Itadori is laughing.
Megumi shoots his head up and gapes at him. He’s laughing that same laugh Megumi recognizes from that day in Roppongi back in June— wholeheartedly, mouth wide open in a grin that looks like it should be painful. His head tilted up, facing the sky, eyes closed and arms stretched out, and Megumi stumbles, heart clenching.
(It’s raining heavily now, but not enough for every drop of water on Itadori’s face to be rain.)
He stops laughing eventually, but still smiles up at the sky, hair soaked and hanging over his forehead.
“I don’t think I regret it, no,” he’s saying, louder now over the rain.
Megumi squints at him. “Why not?”
Itadori shakes his head and chuckles weakly. “It’s been fun. Plus I got to meet you!” he grins at Megumi again, lip quivering and eyes watering. “And Kugisaki, and Gojo-sensei, and, well, everybody!
“I always wanted to be surrounded by a bunch of people I care about when I die, and now I am. So it’s okay, it really is,” he says, wiping his cheeks and snorting softly, shakily.
He smiles at Megumi again, with his eyes this time. “I got to meet you. I don’t regret that.”
He whispers it that time, and Megumi barely hears it over the heavy rain, but he does hear it, which is enough— although it doesn’t matter if he heard what Itadori said, because it doesn’t stop Megumi from walking over to Itadori and hugging him.
Itadori whines lightly, surprised, because Megumi never initiates the hugs between the three of them, but Megumi doesn’t really care about that right now.
“Idiot,” he whispers into Itadori’s hair, holding him tighter until he feels Itadori’s arms wrap around his back.
It’s stupid. A stupid, stupid thing for Itadori say.
Megumi used to believe that sacrificing himself in order to win a fight wasn’t just an option, but it would be a good option, if it came down to it. But with months to grow from that (and a lot of backlash from Gojo-sensei), he learned that it shouldn’t even be an option at all.
So it’s a stupid thing for Itadori to say, really. That it’s okay, it really is , because it isn’t. It isn’t okay that Itadori’s going through what he’s going through, and it isn’t okay that he thinks it is.
Megumi holds Itadori in his arms now like he’s something precious, because he is, while water drips down his face, hair, clothes until he’s soaking wet and his hair is falling into his eyes, but he doesn’t bother to move it.
Megumi wants to kiss him, he really does. They’ve never kissed before— they’ve shared lazy kisses on the cheek, forehead, backs of their hands and tops of their heads, but never a real kiss.
Megumi likes Itadori, and he knows that Itadori likes him— and for them, that has to be enough. Their feelings are there, they’re real, and they’re so close, but Itadori Yuuji knew his fate the day he ate that first finger, and he wouldn’t allow himself to let somebody else be with him knowing the pain it would cause them when he leaves.
So he doesn’t kiss him, he just holds him instead and hopes that Itadori understands what Megumi’s trying to tell him.
It’s not okay. And Itadori doesn’t realize that it’s okay if it isn’t okay, just like Megumi didn’t realize it back then either.
He holds Itadori there, until he hears the rooftop door click open.
“I despise the both of you, you know that right?” Megumi hears Kugisaki shout. She’s standing under the deck with an umbrella in her hand and her foot holding the door open.
Megumi pulls away from Itadori and looks down at him. He has an open, almost scared expression on his face for half a second, but then— then. Itadori smiles again, and it’s brighter than the sun, and Megumi’s mind goes utterly blank.
( I would want it.
Really? Why?)
Itadori twists around and faces Kugisaki, grin growing. His grin is lopsided this time— to the right , Megumi notes, because it’s worth noting— and he doesn’t look away from him.
( Personal feelings? )
Kugisaki is still badgering them from a distance as Itadori sprints over to her in a second and tries to push her out from under the deck.
“Itadori don’t— Fushiguro help me,” she yells. Itadori’s laughing again, and Megumi doesn’t move.
“I swear Ita— Yuuji if you push me into that rain I’ll execute you myse—” she tries, but Itadori’s already picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder, running back out into the rain, umbrella forgotten at the door.
She’s shouting now, slapping Itadori and cursing at him while he just giggles, and Megumi watches them.
( Yes. Personal. )
☆☆☆
They do eventually go to Roppongi.
Kugisaki ends up letting Itadori pick a place to go, and after spending six days in Saitama, he puts them on an hour-long train ride to Roppongi. It’s their second day, and after eating dinner at some fancy restaurant, they go to Roppongi Hills.
Megumi has read about Mohri Garden before, but books and pictures don’t really do it justice, he realizes, when you’re standing in the center of the whole thing instead. Kugisaki and Itadori are trailing behind him as he walks through, and stopping occasionally to admire the tiny fish swimming in the ponds, or the bushes and cherry blossom trees covered with lights that are still left there from the holidays. It’s nicer at night too— when you can actually see those lights hanging from the trees, rippling against the water and illuminating their surroundings in pinks and light purples.
Megumi walks away and they follow, his hands in his pockets, watching the scenery ahead of him while they banter behind him.
He stops again in front of a different little pond surrounded by bushes where the Golden Heart sculpture sits. There aren’t many people there so it’s relatively quiet— except for the conversation his loud friends are having which, logically, might be the reason nobody is around them. The sculpture’s shining brighter under all the lights, and Itadori and Kugisaki are taking pictures of it too, and Megumi glances down at the bushes in front of him.
They’re green, bright green, with hints of pink where tree leaves fell onto them, and a couple flowers growing out of them with fireflies flickering around them and over the water. Itadori and Kugisaki’s conversation turns distant for him while he watches it all, the flowers the fireflies the lights, because pictures really don’t do it justice.
A butterfly flies down in front of him, distracting him as it floats down onto the bush— it’s a Blue Morpho butterfly (he knows because Itadori and Kugisaki bought him a World of Insects book for the new year when he turned down The Grouchy Ladybug book they tried giving him for his birthday because it “ reminded them of him” ), its entire body a bright, light blue with a thin dark brown border around it. It sits on one of the cherry blossom tree leaves and waits, and Megumi watches it.
The day Itadori’s execution date was set, a week prior to it, Okkotsu-senpai came to visit.
Megumi had just come back from a mission exorcising two Grade 3 curses, and Okkotsu had decided to cut his overseas trip down and go back to the school.
Megumi was in the main kitchen when he popped up. He already knew Okkotsu was visiting, but he didn’t know why until he got back from his mission.
He heard about Itadori’s execution date from Gojo-sensei, took a shower, and then wandered in the halls until his feet took themselves to the kitchen where he was now, staring down into a glass of water at the table.
(He didn’t dare go to Itadori’s room.)
Okkotsu found him then, sparing Megumi a smile before he filled up his own mug of black coffee and wordlessly joined Megumi at the table.
“I thought you were with Inumaki-senpai.”
Okkotsu gives him a shy grin. “I was. But I heard you got back.”
Megumi hums, putting his focus back down to his water, watching the ice melt slowly.
“How are you?”
He shrugs. “Good. The mission wasn’t bad, just two third grades.”
Okkotsu huffs. “And you?”
Megumi looks up.
Okkotsu stares at him tiredly.
“How are you,” he says again, matter-of-factly, and blows on his coffee cup.
Megumi turns his head back down, away from Okkotsu’s heavy gaze.
He sighs.
“How did you leave so easily?”
Okkotsu stops and gazes at him, eyes wide, like he didn’t think Megumi would ask him that.
He bites his tongue. “After what happened that December I mean. Wasn’t it hard?”
Okkotsu softens. “Of course it was. But after the night parade incident, it was easier to leave,” he answers, adjusting where he sits. “I wanted to get stronger so I could protect everyone, and I couldn’t do that if I stayed.” He tips his head. “Kinda like a butterfly, maybe. It has to leave in order to grow and come back stronger.”
Megumi glances down again and rubs his thumb around the lip of his cup. “And what about everyone else?”
He peers up at Okkotsu through his eyelashes, watching his face contort, torn between understanding and guilt. “You’d have to ask the three of them about that,” he says, simply, sipping his coffee now that it’s cooled. “I’m the one that left, I don’t know what it was like to be the one who stays.”
Megumi never did end up asking his senpai’s about it— and he wasn’t sure he would’ve wanted to know what they’d say either, or that it would even help. Okkotsu had to leave, but he came back. Itadori has to leave, and when he does, he’s not coming back to Megumi and Kugisaki. Being the ones left when someone has to leave is different when that person isn’t expected to come back.
Their conversation ended after that, both of them just sitting in silence while Okkotsu drank his coffee and Megumi watched the water condense on his cup, leaving a ring on the table, until Okkotsu finished and got up to leave.
“If I knew how to make it less hard, I think I would have a better answer,” he says from the doorway, clearing his throat, “But I don’t think who stays and who goes is what matters, it’s how you fix it that does. So fix it, Fushiguro.”
He was gone after that, not bothering to explain what he meant and Megumi didn't bother asking.
What he said never really clicked for Megumi until now though, standing in the middle of Mohri Garden. Okkotsu-senpai didn’t say how you deal with it , or what you do after , he told Megumi that what matters is how you fix it. He wasn’t saying it about himself either— he was saying it directly to Megumi.
Itadori was going to be executed and Megumi and Kugisaki fixed it by taking him away on a road trip. Okkotsu-senpai didn’t know Itadori very well, but he went through a similar enough experience, and is a good enough person, to not want to let him die.
Is this what Okkotsu meant when he told Megumi to fix it? Running away to keep Itadori from the inevitable? Okkotsu-senpai’s smarter than that though, smart enough to know that running away was doomed to fail. But if he did mean something different, Megumi doesn’t know what it was.
(Plus, Megumi already knew he was doomed, so a little more can’t hurt, right?)
Somebody says Megumi’s name, pulling him out of his thoughts to where Kugisaki and Itadori are staring at him, now with matching flowers behind their ears.
He scowls. “What?”
Kugisaki eyebrow arches. “We asked if you think Gojo-sensei would drink milk from the carton.”
He has no idea why they’re talking about that, or how they even got to that topic, but he closes his eyes and sighs, going the other way. “Why are you asking me that?”
“Because Itadori doesn’t think he would,” Kugisaki answers, like that explains anything.
“Gojo-sensei would never do that,” Itadori refutes, running after Megumi and grabbing his arm to hook it around his own. He lets him.
“Gojo-sensei has no self-respect,” says Megumi, “of course he would.”
☆☆☆
Kugisaki ran off again, saying she was gonna call Maki-san, as Megumi and Itadori were walking out of the garden and towards the Roppongi Hills arena.
There’s music playing inside that can be heard faintly from where they’re standing— on the east side of the arena where a fountain sits in the middle of the floor, next to the TV Asahi shop and across from a Louis Vuitton store that, now that Megumi thinks about it, is probably where Kugisaki went.
There are other people there too, some sitting at the tables to the side and some others by the fountain dancing to the music, and the two of them stop on the slightly elevated platform and watch them.
Itadori’s arm has been linked around Megumi’s since they were in the garden, and he only now unwinds them, putting his hands in his pockets.
“I didn’t like it the first time, I’m not gonna lie,” Itadori says— retelling one of the movies he watched during his training in July that they rewatched back in Kyoto. “I got hit a lot during it too. But I just don’t think I would’ve hit the monster with a metal rod.”
Megumi frowns, staring at the fountain ahead of them. “But they killed it with the metal rod.”
Itadori squints at him. “For real?”
“Yeah,” he says, “you fell asleep during that part.”
“Huh,” he furrows his brows, “I don’t remember that part.”
“I just said you fell asleep,” he mumbles.
Itadori just smiles at him, wholly, “Yeah, and I woke up to somebody cuddling me,” he says, poking at Megumi’s cheek.
He slaps his hand away, turning his head to hide his blush. “Shut up.”
Itadori laughs, mouth wide, and Megumi smirks a bit, still facing away so Itadori can’t see it. He wasn’t cuddling Itadori— but Itadori fell asleep at the end of the movie with his head in Megumi’s lap, looking too comfortable for Megumi to wake and move him, so he just slept on the same bed and woke up with Itadori’s back to his chest and his arm wrapped around him. It wasn’t for long either, because Itadori got up right when he woke, while Megumi pretended to still be asleep, and made breakfast and coffee for Megumi and Kugisaki.
(Kugisaki made fun of them for it, obviously, but then they embarrassed her during her facetime with Maki-san, and she left them alone after that.)
A little girl walks up to Itadori and smiles. She doesn’t say anything, and she can’t be older than six, but she just keeps smiling and pulling Itadori’s leg.
Itadori’s eyelids flicker. “Oh, hello. Can I help you?”
She still doesn’t say anything, just whines and nods towards the fountain, pulling Itadori’s arm when he tries to back away. He sticks his lip out and turns to Megumi, stupefied.
Megumi clicks his tongue, unamused. “I think she wants you to dance with her.”
Itadori blinks repeatedly, eyes widening, and sputters. “Oh—no thank you, I don’t—” he starts and doesn’t finish, because the little girl manages to pull him away and towards the fountain (although Itadori could’ve pulled away) where other kids and grown ups are gathered, either dancing or just admiring the fountain. He sends Megumi a desperate look, and Megumi snorts, scratching the back of his head. She doesn’t end up dancing with him, just pointing at the fountain and saying something to him while she holds his wrist and he listens along hesitantly.
Megumi exhales and leans down to sit on the step he was on. He puts his feet on the step below him and rests his elbows on his knees, and watches Itadori get dragged around the fountain.
A couple minutes later, he hears heels clicking against the floor next to him, and Kugisaki sighs, dropping down to sit by him, now with a shopping bag and a plastic cup in her hand.
“What’s happening here?”
She gestures towards Itadori who’s now standing around awkwardly while the little girl talks to him. Megumi just grunts in a don’t ask manner.
“How’s Maki-san?”
Kugisaki side-eyes him. “She’s good,” and then softer, “I miss her.”
Megumi glances at her from the corner of his eye and grunts again. She turns her head towards him, and he can feel her gaze on the side of his head until she breathes through her nose.
“I’m not jealous of you, you know.”
She says it simply, and Megumi looks at her to see her staring straight ahead, cheek resting in her palm as she takes a tentative sip of— whatever she has in her cup with her pinky raised, not even sparing him a glance.
He snarls. “ Huh? ”
She looks at him and rolls her eyes. “ Tch , would you calm down. Look I like Itadori alright?”
He glances at Itadori and back at her. “Okay?”
“And I don’t normally let idiots like him into my life, but he stuck around for some reason,” she continues, narrowing her eyes. “And he’s probably the biggest idiot I know too.”
Megumi squints at her. “Are you sure you like Itadori?”
“What’s that supposed to mean, of course I do!” she says, offended. “He’s a good person, and he cares about people, even when he probably shouldn’t. And he’s so damn hopeful, I mean look at him.”
So he does— he looks at Itadori, now dancing with one of the little girls, holding her hands while her feet rest on top of his own, smiling down at her more comfortably now while he sways the both of them. The girl laughs, and he laughs too, and it hurts Megumi to look at Itadori like this sometimes, grinning so brightly that Megumi could be convinced the sun was rising behind him and shining down on Itadori’s face. He’s always had a talent of brightening whatever place he goes to, like all the lights in the city and sky are creating a spotlight just for him.
“There’s nothing for him to be hopeful about right now, but he won’t stop smiling,” Kugisaki continues, moving away from Megumi a little bit.
“He’s strong too, and determined. And I admire that about him— not that I would ever tell him,” she says harshly, scolding him. He rolls his eyes and she looks the other way, sniffling.
“So of course I care about him,” she utters weakly, face turned away from him completely now. Her lip shakes while she rubs her eye.
Megumi looks away.
He turns back to Itadori, still dancing around, faster now that the song changed, until Kugisaki sighs and sits up.
“But I don’t envy you for loving him.”
His eyebrows lift, and he whips around to face Kugisaki, who says nothing else, and still isn’t looking back at him.
Megumi hates the way she speaks— like everything’s easy. Like everything that comes out of her mouth is as simple and nonchalant as saying good morning .
It’s the second time someone has said it now— first it was Gojo-sensei back in Saitama, and now Kugisaki. It was never something Megumi considered, to love somebody, especially as a sorcerer. Gojo-sensei told Megumi that all sorcerers die alone and Megumi took that for what it was and told himself that as long as he’s a sorcerer, a love like this wasn’t something he could have.
He never thought about it before, or ever questioned why he was so determined to believe it was true now, but it was so obviously because he was falling for Itadori that he did everything he could to rationalize why he couldn’t.
And he isn’t an idiot— he saw the way Kugisaki looked at him back in Saitama, and Kyoto and Toshima, and even back before they left— he knew that she knew, he just never let himself associate that knowledge with love.
(Gojo told him he hates young love, and Kugisaki told him she isn’t jealous of him for it. Maybe they’re right— maybe Megumi’s cursed for loving Itadori Yuuji.)
The song morphs into a different, slower one, and as if on cue, Itadori runs up to him, the same smile still on his face as he grabs Megumi’s hands and pulls on him.
“C’mon, come dance with me!”
(Megumi looks up at Itadori— grinning so wide that he’s surprised he isn’t sore from it, his face glistening slightly while he shakes Megumi’s arms around— and he thinks that maybe Kugisaki should be jealous, that maybe it is worth it, to love Itadori Yuuji.
Curse or no curse.)
((Maybe Itadori is worth it, but not enough to get Megumi to dance with him.))
He bites the inside of his mouth. “Itadori I—I can’t leave Kugisaki here.”
“Please,” Kugisaki snorts, waving him off as she stands, “Don’t let me stop you. I’m gonna go walk for a little bit, maybe shout at somebody.”
He watches her leave— the traitor — while Itadori still shakes his arms around, trying to pull him up.
“We should probably make sure she doesn’t do anything bad.”
Itadori frowns. “She’s probably just gonna call Maki again.”
“That’s the third time she’s called Maki-san in the past hour.”
He looks at Kugisaki’s retreating figure and shrugs. “Good for her, now come dance with me.”
“No Itadori—”
“ Please Fushiguro,” Itadori stills. The song changes again into a slower, quieter one, allowing Megumi to hear the chatter from other people around them and the water flowing through the fountain.
But he drowns it out, watching Itadori stare down at him, street and tree lights glowing and creating a backdrop behind him, but his face still remains uncharacteristically bright from where Megumi’s sitting. Itadori’s standing there, waiting, in a way that makes Megumi know that if he really didn’t want to go dance, Itadori would accept it and join him where he sits instead, because that’s who Itadori is— he puts others and their needs before his own, whether it’s a serious situation or something as minor as this, as long as it means he wouldn’t be alone.
Megumi knows that Itadori would be happy with either outcome, but he also cares about Itadori enough to give him what he wants in the first place, so he accepts defeat, sighing as he pulls himself from his seat and allows a cheerful Itadori to pull him towards the fountain.
It starts simple: Itadori’s barely an inch shorter than him but he still lets Megumi lead, pulling them together, his left hand holding Megumi’s right while he puts Megumi’s other hand around him in the middle of his back, looping his own arm around Megumi’s neck. They sway slowly to one slow song— talking, Megumi occasionally saying something that draws a laugh out of Itadori— until it ends, and then they dance to another one, and another and another, and continue to sway together to barely audible songs playing from inside the arena until they’re almost the last ones there.
It goes like this: one moment they're swaying, still talking, Itadori’s still smiling, and the next Itadori’s unknotting their hands, wrapping his arm around Megumi instead so they’re both hanging from his neck, and Megumi moves his other arm to rest on Itadori’s back, so they’re almost in a mirrored stance as they were from the night on the roof in Saitama, with Itadori still enveloped in Megumi’s arms. Itadori moves his head to lay it on Megumi’s shoulder, cheek pressed into his shoulder blade, stepping closer until there’s almost no distance between them, until his body is pressed against Megumi’s and their heart beats are in sync, until the music stops completely and the fountain turns off, and then they are the only ones still standing there.
Itadori moves his head again, forehead now nuzzled into Megumi’s shoulder so he’s looking down at their feet.
He chuckles wetly, and sniffs. “I’m still wearing my school shoes.”
Megumi hums. He hadn’t noticed. “Really?”
“Yeah,” he mumbles, and laughs mirthlessly. “They’re so ugly.”
Itadori chuckles again, voice thick, and Megumi laughs through his nose, lip quirking up.
“They are ugly, aren’t they?” Megumi agrees quietly, making Itadori laugh again, his whole body shaking in a way that Megumi knows isn’t just because of his laughter.
Megumi’s always been good at pretending. He saw Kugisaki’s reaction when Itadori died in June, and just now while she was talking about him, and he pretended not to notice. When Okkotsu-senpai had to leave again after visiting in December, Megumi pretended he didn’t see the way the rest of the second years acted that day. When Gojo-sensei says he has an overseas business trip, but Megumi knows that he doesn’t and he sometimes takes a break instead, Megumi acts like he doesn’t know, and he doesn’t say anything.
And right now, when Itadori does start to shake with silent tears, burrowing his head deeper into Megumi’s shoulder, he pretends not to notice it too.
When Itadori eventually lifts his head to face Megumi again, eyes rimmed red with those same tears, he still plays dumb. When he ducks his head back down to avoid Megumi’s gaze, Megumi puts his own face against the top of Itadori’s, his hair tickling his chin and nose— and when Itadori mumbles something against his chest that Megumi can’t hear, he acts like he doesn’t know, like he can’t tell that his lip is quivering.
He’s good at pretending, so for now, with Itadori in his arms again while they sway to nothing, he can pretend, for however long they have left.
☆☆☆
Kugisaki got them a beach house.
It’s been two weeks and two days since Gojo-sensei visited them, and since they hadn’t been to a beach yet, they decided to go to Zushi Beach, and Kugisaki rented them the beach house.
It’s their fifth day in a house big enough for five people, with three bedrooms in it, one for each of them to stay in— Megumi and Itadori still shared one of the rooms instead, but Megumi woke up alone.
He doesn’t think much of it until he reaches across the king bed and realizes it’s cold where Itadori was sleeping. He opens his eyes and checks the time, almost six AM, before sitting up and stretching through a yawn. Megumi and Itadori have shared a room for most of their trip, and Megumi’s always the one to wake up first while Itadori whines about getting up so soon, so waking up without him in the room is a little disorienting sometimes, and not something he wants to think about getting used to.
He walks into the kitchen to see if maybe Itadori’s cooking breakfast again, but it’s still empty. One of the showers is running, but Kugisaki’s bedroom door is open, and Megumi peeks in to find it empty too, so he assumes she’s the one using it. He searches the rest of the house and then searches again, but Itadori is nowhere to be found.
He has a thought, briefly, that maybe Gojo-sensei was wrong and the higher ups already found him and took him back while Megumi and Kugisaki were asleep— and he almost panics, almost, until he walks out onto the terrace and looks out at the beach where he recognizes Itadori’s figure, sitting in the sand and staring out towards the water.
Megumi takes a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and walks back inside to grab a jacket, just in case, and head towards the beach. He prepares a cup of tea before he leaves— it’s not his favorite, but he’ll end up sharing it with Itadori anyways, and Itadori doesn’t like black coffee.
Mount Fuji is visible from here, and it can be seen from their window too, but it is nicer when you’re standing outside and watching it, which must be why Itadori decided to take a closer look.
He stops walking when he crosses the street and stands right on the edge of the sand, a ways away from Itadori who’s sitting closer to the shore. The sun’s rising now, peeking over the horizon minimally, enough to hurt Megumi’s eyes if he looks towards it.
(When Megumi went to Ieiri-san to be healed after the juvenile detention center in July, she asked him if he needed anything else before leaving, and without thinking Megumi blurted out, ‘ what happens now? ’.
He regretted it immediately, especially when she just stared at him, half-lidded, and just when he was about to jump up and run out of there, she sighed and grabbed a small glass, filling it with alcohol.
She took a big gulp and said ‘You deal with it. People you care about leave and you deal with it, however you wanna do that.’
He did leave after that, not running but very close to it.
So he dealt with it, both him and Kugisaki did, by focusing on the exchange event instead of Itadori’s death. And yet, after only knowing him for a little over two weeks, he couldn’t stop thinking about the boy every time he saw the color pink, heard somebody laughing, made meatballs— and when they go back, after knowing Itadori for eight (six) months, he’s still gonna see pink hair and brown freckles, hear rain, look at the sun the stars, everything, and find a part of Itadori in it.)
((Megumi doesn’t know if it’s a curse or not, to have pieces of Itadori after he leaves without actually having him there.))
Megumi stares at Itadori’s back— a thin, blue blanket wrapped around his shoulders, the sun creating a ring of light around him— and he stares and stares and stares, and he remembers everything.
He remembers ‘I got to meet you’ and ‘ come dance with me ’ and ‘ thanks Fushiguro, I appreciate it ’, all said with a wide grin on his face.
He remembers ‘ I don’t envy you for loving him ,’ and thinks that no fear can compare to the fear of loving Itadori, and thinks that he doesn’t care either way.
He looks at Itadori in front of him— watching the way he twists his head around when he feels somebody staring, and the way he waves and breaks out into a smile when he notices it’s Megumi standing there— and he doesn’t think at all.
He steps up to Itadori and sits while he beams at him, smile getting bigger when Megumi gives him a small grin back.
“How long have you been out here?”
He thinks for a moment, “‘bout ten minutes.” His smile falls. “Did I wake you when I left?”
Megumi shakes his head no, recognizing the deep blue jacket Itadori’s wearing. “That’s mine.”
Itadori raises his eyebrows, grinning sheepishly, wrapping Megumi’s jacket tighter around his body. “Ah, it’s cold. And you didn’t pack me many clothes for this trip you know— I had to improvise.”
Megumi nods, taking a drink of tea before he hands it to Itadori who accepts it with a smile, and then looks out ahead of him when a bit of water hits his foot. It’s getting warmer, whether that’s from the sun or the company, Megumi doesn’t know, and the sun’s reflecting off the ocean as it rises higher. They’ve been to this beach before, back in December, but the second years were there too— Maki-san and Kugisaki standing by the water, Inumaki-senpai and Okkotsu-senpai huddled together by the shore while Panda-senpai floated on the water in front of them, and Itadori standing far off from all of them, taking photos. Gojo-sensei was there, regressing back to a child when he stepped on the beach, and Nanami-senpai was there too, lurking by the street behind Itadori. Megumi split his time between everyone, but mostly just stood by and watched.
Itadori’s phone makes a sound and Megumi realizes that he’s scrolling through those photos and videos he took now, a serene expression on his face. There are a lot of them too: random pictures, sometimes just a blank, blurry screen that he took on accident— but mostly pictures of them, individual ones and ones of all of them grouped together, smiling and laughing at whatever it was they were talking about. He scrolls by a video and presses on it, Inumaki and Panda appearing on the screen while Inumaki jumps around Panda and ends up falling into the sand. Itadori swipes, chuckling to himself and Megumi lets out a puff of air as a laugh. The next video is of Kugisaki and Maki, and the next is of all of them, and the next and the next until he starts getting into photos and videos from different days.
(It makes Megumi wish he could find a way to relive his memories, or bring them to life somehow and keep them forever, especially now. But his camera roll will have to do, he supposes.)
There are pictures of Megumi by himself too. A lot of them. Candids of him from the side, a few where he’s smiling more than usual, but still not that much, that he doesn’t remember Itadori taking.
He scrolls past those faster than the rest, ears turning pink.
He gets to photos from last September and stops at one from the exchange event: it’s a picture of them from their baseball game. Inumaki’s taking it, holding up a peace sign in the front, and Megumi and Itadori are in the back— Itadori standing on the bench while Megumi sits by him, holding his leg so he doesn’t fall and looking up at him worriedly.
“I didn’t know you had that one,” Megumi starts, “Inumaki-senpai shares his photos very scarcely.”
Itadori zooms in on the photo, wistful. “I just asked him to send it and he did,” he answers quietly. “I like it.”
Megumi scoots closer to him and leaves a kiss on his temple. Itadori leans into him and drops his phone and the cup of tea to hold Megumi’s hand instead, one against the back of his hand while he traces his finger against Megumi’s with the other. He bites his lip and taps his finger against his palm, squinting back up at the sun. It’s strange, how the sun seems to shine a little brighter when Itadori’s looking at it.
He lifts Megumi’s hand and kisses his fingertips.
“I think,” he pauses. “I think I would’ve been a firefighter.”
He gazes at Megumi and waits patiently, and it takes Megumi embarrassingly long to realize he’s not gonna continue and is waiting for his response
“Hm.” he supplies.
Itadori pouts. “What about you?”
His eyes flicker between Itadori’s eyes and his frown, and then back to their hands.
“A writer. Or maybe a vet.”
He nudges his shoulder, grinning. “You’d be a good one.”
Megumi puffs out a breath through his nose, rubbing his thumb against the back of Itadori’s coarse knuckles. A firefighter, huh. He would’ve been a good one too.
Somebody groans from behind them and a second later Kugisaki drops in the spot on Itadori’s other side— her hair’s still wet from her shower and she’s scowling at them like they’re the grossest people she’s ever met.
“I don’t like third wheeling in case you didn’t realize,” she snaps, taking the tea cup on Itadori’s leg and sipping from it.
“You’re not third wheeling,” Megumi deadpans.
Her scowl deepens. “Says the guy holding Itadori’s hand right now.”
Itadori pipes up between them, beaming at Kugisaki. “Do you want me to hold yours too?”
“Don’t touch me,” she says indignantly, drinking the tea again and wincing at the taste. “What are you two even doing out here?”
“Talking about our dream jobs,” Itadori answers casually, taking the tea from her and chugging it. “What’s yours?”
She scoffs, leaning back on her elbows, “Well a model obviously, look at me.”
Megumi’s eyes roll and Itadori giggles— Kugisaki hits his shoulder but doesn’t argue, yawning instead, her head hanging back.
“What day is it?”
Itadori turns on his phone. “Wednesday. The 21st.”
She grunts and doesn’t respond, and neither does Itadori, and neither does Megumi. They all focus on the ocean ahead of them where the sun is almost fully risen. When the silence does break, Kugisaki breaks it.
“Do we go back?”
Megumi glances at Itadori and he knows Kugisaki is too, but he’s still looking forward, biting his cheek.
He scratches the back of his head.
“Not yet.”
They both turn to him fully now, and he looks down at his and Megumi’s hands. “Gojo-sensei said we have three weeks. So we still have some time left, right?”
Gojo-sensei said three weeks, it’s been two and two days. Some time left for them right now means only five more days.
Screw it. “Yeah. We do.”
Itadori gives him a bashful smile and drops his head on his shoulder.
He noses Itadori’s hair while Kugisaki sits up, exchanging a harsh look with Megumi, before she eases.
“We’ll be fine, just the three of us,” says Kugisaki.
Itadori’s mouth grows and he rests his face into Megumi’s shoulder before straightening up again and wrapping his arms around the both of them, and they let it happen. “Yeah. We’ll be fine.”
They stay there for a minute saying nothing, letting the waves crash at their feet. There’s more noise now that the city’s waking up, cars passing by on the street behind them and birds flying over their heads. And again, Megumi longs for a way to hold a memory like this in his hands forever, or create a binding vow if only to keep it in a place other than his own unreliable mind.
Maybe it’s his grief talking, maybe it’s his love for his friends, or maybe his grief and his love are the same thing— but he’s never believed he’d ever feel a tenderness like this before, especially while his world felt like it was coming to an end. It could all be connected, too— the tenderness, the memories, the pain— where one can’t live without the others without consequence. It is painful, knowing the consequences, but Megumi has spent two weeks and two days (and much longer) knowing that, and he’ll spend their last five days together knowing it too.
Kugisaki breaks the tranquility again, whistling as she stands. “So,” she says, dusting sand off her legs, “where should we go next?”
She smirks, sticking her hand out to Itadori who smirks back and grabs it, heaving himself off the sand. He extends his hand to Megumi after balancing himself, beaming down at him. Waiting.
Itadori reaches for him, at the end of their world, and Megumi reaches back.