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When Itadori pops out from that box, alive and well and without a gaping hole in his chest, all Megumi can feel at first is shock. He imagines his face looks a bit like Kugisaki’s at the moment—eyes wide and mouth agape. Then, the other emotions hit—anger, disbelief, even grief before relief dwarfs them all. Breathing becomes a little harder. The emotions threaten to swamp him, pull him under until he says or does something ridiculous.
And all the while, Itadori just stands there with his dopey grin until it fades to confusion, his cheeks a healthy pink even as he flushes with embarrassment. He is alive, alive, alive.
Luckily, Kugisaki’s anger grabs everyone’s attention and distracts Megumi long enough that he gets himself under control, boxing away those emotions until he can deal with them later. Maybe.
They move to a meeting room to discuss the team battle and how their strategy will change now that Itadori will participate as well. Itadori looks lost with all the new information being thrown at him, so Megumi makes sure to answer his questions, chest warming at the familiar interaction.
When Zenin-senpai tries to think of ways to integrate Itadori into their plans, Megumi matter-of-factly lets her know that Itadori can take on practically anyone in a physical fight. She grins sharply, clearly reworking their game plan, while Itadori smiles at him like Megumi has paid him the highest of compliments. Megumi keeps his face placid even as his stomach flutters. It’s not like he said anything untrue. Unlike him, Itadori will be able to stand toe-to-toe with Todo and fistfight him head on.
While Zenin-senpai tells them the new strategy, Megumi steals glances at Itadori, almost expecting him to disappear, like his return has been some sort of illusion, a new curse trying to wear away at Megumi’s resolve. But, every time his eyes return to him, Itadori is there, as ridiculous and kind and clueless as ever, his cheeks rosy in his enthusiasm and his eyes gleaming as he takes in the new people around him. Except. There is something different about him, some subtle change that can almost be dismissed as misremembering Itadori in their time apart. But Megumi doesn’t think that’s it. It’s almost as if Itadori has an invisible curse hanging off his shoulders, a new burden that he is being forced to carry.
Megumi wants to say something, but he isn’t given time as they leave the meeting room. He just watches as Itadori smiles at Panda-senpai and jokes with Kugisaki, then draws in on himself and becomes more subdued when their backs are turned. Megumi wonders if that’s what he looked like when he thought Itadori was gone for good. A sharp pain lances through his chest that he ignores. It’s only a momentary feeling, after all.
As they reach the starting point for the team battle, he finally gets his chance.
“Itadori,” Megumi calls as he works his shoulder to loosen up for the fights ahead. “You okay?”
Itadori stops to look back at him. “Well, it’s a big job, but I should be fine.”
“Not that. Something happened, didn’t it?”
“Huh? What’re you talkin’ about?” Itadori smiles wide, eyes closed, as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.
But Megumi just stares steadily back, not convinced.
After a long moment, Itadori drops his smile. “Yeah.” He rubs the back of his head and looks to the ground, that burden seeming to cover him like a weighted shroud. “But I’m okay. In fact, thanks to what happened, I don’t wanna lose to anyone anymore.”
Megumi can’t imagine what Itadori went through, what he must’ve lost to affect him so deeply. But Megumi can do nothing to change that, can offer nothing but his support, as inconsequential as it is at times.
Aloud, he says, “Good.” Then, he walks away so that his back is toward Itadori, thinking of blood, a gaping hole in Itadori’s chest, his heart struggling with its last few beats outside his body. “Me too. I don’t want to lose either.”
When Megumi chances a look back, he sees Itadori smiling, and his heart aches. From sadness or relief or what, he isn’t sure.
Then, the others pipe up, Kugisaki helpfully reminding Megumi that he pretty much got his ass handed to him by Todo the other day.
He has to focus. There’s no time for confusing feelings—for grief, or joy, or even relief. They have a team battle to win.
~*~*~*~*~
After the battle is over, the invading curses and curse users either gone or captured, Megumi sits in bed recovering. He missed the rest of the fighting, carried off by Panda-senpai to be treated by Ieiri-sensei while others—while Itadori—had to stay to finish the fight. All of the students have made it out alive, but once again Megumi was useless when it really mattered.
He stares up at the ceiling.
Today is a perfect microcosm of his life. His efforts are never enough—he’s not strong enough. Again and again he fails the people around him. Tsumiki cursed into a coma while he’s found nothing to cure her. Itadori getting his heart ripped out by Sukuna as he can only watch. Itadori having to consume Sukuna’s finger in the first place because he was too weak to take care of a few curses. Again and again the people he wants to protect are hurt while he comes out of the situation safely with only a few easily-healed injuries to show for his pitiful efforts.
And again today, despite his determination not to lose anymore, he couldn’t defeat the Special Grade. Instead, Itadori had to stay and finish the fight with Todo even though the Kyoto School had tried to kill him. Even though he just got back from being fucking dead.
Why is it that he is always spared while Tsumiki and Itadori and countless other good people out there suffer every day?
A lump forms in Megumi’s throat and his eyes sting.
Damn it. He’s here lying completely useless and now he’s crying about it. Damn it all.
His chest tightens and it gets harder to drag in his next breath. He digs the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to keep the tears from falling as he gasps for air.
Even with him wheezing pathetically, Megumi hears the door to the room open but is helpless to stop himself. He pushes the heels of his hands harder into his eyes, making bright flashes appear in the shadows behind his closed eyelids. Hurried footsteps rush forward to stop beside his bed.
“Fushiguro! Fushiguro, what’s wrong? Does it hurt? Should I get Ieiri-sensei?”
It’s Itadori. Of course it’s Itadori.
In between gasps of air, Megumi pushes out, “No, I’m fine. I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. I’m gonna go get—”
Megumi rips his hands away from his eyes to grab Itadori by the wrist. He doesn’t need anyone else in here to witness his breakdown.
“Don’t get anyone. I’m fine. Nothing is hurting.”
Itadori looks down at him with a little frown, clearly not accepting his reassurances.
“Really. I’m not in any pain.”
The frown gets deeper, crinkling the bandage on Itadori’s cheek, concern clearly shining in his brown eyes. Suddenly, there’s a flurry of movement, and Megumi finds himself in a warm embrace, strong arms wrapped around his shoulders and his face awkwardly smashed up against a broad chest. He stiffens for a few long seconds before letting the tension drain out of him. Tentatively, he brings his arms up around Itadori’s back, breathing in deeply and more evenly as he listens to Itadori’s heartbeat thudding steadily under his ear. He’s alive. He’s alive. He’s alive.
“You know you don’t have to hide the pain you feel. Whether it’s physical or not.”
Megumi’s heart squeezes, and he doesn’t know whether he wants to smile or cry some more. Itadori forever seems to be concerned more with others than he is himself.
“You’re one to talk.”
Itadori fidgets a bit under Megumi’s arms. “What’d you mean?”
Megumi is quiet for a minute, listening to Itadori’s heartbeat. The steady thumps along with the warmth seeping into him from Itadori’s chest reassure him.
Finally, he says, “Something happened. Something that you’re trying to shoulder the burden of on your own. You’re always looking out for others but neglect yourself.”
“I really could say the same about you,” Itadori mutters but goes on before Megumi can protest. “It’s— It’s kinda hard to talk about. And I don’t want you to think badly of me.”
“I won’t think badly of you,” Megumi replies matter-of-factly. “But I won’t force you to tell me if it’ll hurt you.”
Itadori says nothing for a few rises and falls of his chest. Then—
“I killed people.”
The words are shocking coming from Itadori’s mouth, but the statement itself isn’t. In their line of work, jujutsu sorcerers face all manner of evil things, whether they’re curses or humans. Megumi is just sorry that Itadori has had to learn this ugly truth so early.
“I’m sure you did what you could,” is all Megumi says, unsure what words he can find to bring Itadori any measure of comfort over such a terrible experience.
“I could’ve done more,” Itadori responds immediately. Megumi feels Itadori begin to trace nonsense shapes between his shoulder blades as if to distract himself. “This curse could transfigure humans. Their forms were so twisted, and they didn’t always die right away…”
Megumi waits, Itadori’s fingertips tracing paths of fire on his back. Up, down, circle, dash, back, spiral.
“I had to kill them,” Itadori finally continues, his voice thick, like he’s talking around a lump in his throat. “It was a mercy, but it wasn’t right. I had to, but I didn’t want to. And— And I lost a friend. The curse transfigured him to attack me, and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. Couldn’t do anything to fix it.” The tracing stops. Instead, Itadori clenches his fists into the back of Megumi’s shirt, arms tightening around Megumi’s shoulders. “It won’t happen again. I’m not losing ever again.”
With Itadori’s heartbeat sounding against his ear, Megumi says, “I know. I won’t lose either.”
The arms around him give an extra squeeze.
“Hey,” Itadori says with a laugh that’s a little wet with stifled tears. “This isn’t fair. You got me to talk about myself but haven’t said anything about yourself. This whole thing started because I was worried about you!”
Briefly, Megumi imagines telling Itadori about the fears that keep him up at night—that he’s too weak, that he’ll never live up to everybody’s expectations, that he’ll continue to fail everyone around him. But, it’s too exposing, like the sun burning away the night, revealing the ugliness that its shadows covered up. Instead, he focuses on what set him off in the first place.
“You died. Sukuna ripped your heart out right in front of me, and I could do nothing to stop him.”
Megumi squeezes his eyes shut and digs his fingers into the worn material of Itadori’s hoodie. He’s glad that his head is currently smashed to Itadori’s chest—that his face is hidden.
Itadori’s fingers begin to trace patterns again, the movement meandering and soothing.
Quietly, he says, “You did what you could, too. I don’t regret dying since it stopped Sukuna.”
Megumi grimaces.
Sometimes, he forgets that Itadori is slated for execution. Like today, he was so relieved over Itadori being alive that he didn’t even think about Itadori’s imminent death—permanent this time—to stop the King of Curses forever. And it all began because Megumi couldn’t fight off that Grade Two curse at the school without Itadori intervening.
Itadori, who is kind-hearted and too dumb to save his own skin when others are in danger, he could’ve lived a normal life full of friends and minor annoyances and unassuming happiness instead of being executed for caring too much.
Megumi sets his jaw, then moves away, interrupting the tracing fingers and breaking the circle of Itadori’s arms to look him in the eye.
“If you die, I’ll kill you.”
Itadori’s eyes widen, the warm brown surrounded by white, before he scrunches them closed and lets out a laugh. “Relax, Fushiguro. I won’t worry you again.”
Megumi frowns. Impending execution aside, he highly doubts Itadori won’t ever worry him again. He’s too much of a magnet for trouble.
That last part, Megumi says out loud.
Rubbing the back of his head, Itadori laughs again, this time a little sheepishly. “I don’t go looking for trouble, you know. These things just seem to happen.”
“Or you just can’t stop yourself from getting involved,” Megumi grumbles, which is echoed by a grumble from his stomach. He looks down at it. “Oh.” He isn’t feeling particularly hungry, but he supposes it has been awhile since breakfast.
“You’re hungry, Fushiguro?” Itadori asks, eager as a puppy. He brings down a fist into his open palm. “I know. Let’s order pizza! Pizza always makes me feel better after a hard day. I’m sure it’ll cheer you up, too!”
“Wait,” Megumi says, not sure if he’s up for eating such greasy food, but Itadori is already moving away, talking about seeing who else would want some and doesn’t hear him. Megumi wants to drum up some irritation at Itadori bulldozing ahead without thinking like he tends to do, but he finds himself smiling slightly instead.
At the door, Itadori pauses to look back at Megumi. He grins. “I’m happy to see you again, Fushiguro.”
Megumi’s stomach swoops like he missed the last step going down the stairs, but before he can even begin to form a response, Itadori is gone, off to find Kugisaki and everybody else.
For several long seconds, Megumi stares at the empty doorway, only looking away when a yawn splits his face in two, the day finally catching up to him. Settling back down into the bed, he realizes he feels better than he did before, as if the sun has emerged from behind dark clouds after a heavy rainstorm. He’s keenly aware that it’s all thanks to Itadori, like he’s Megumi’s personal ball of sunshine, helping to ward off chilling thoughts.
Megumi feels his cheeks heat at this disgustingly sappy metaphor. He’ll never tell a soul he had such cheesy thoughts, especially not Gojo-sensei.
Letting his eyes slip close, Megumi again sees Itadori in the rain, a gaping hole in his chest, falling forward. But this time, he also thinks of bright smiles, a warm laugh, strong hands tracing patterns on his back. His resolve solidifies. I won’t lose either.
The world needs all the sunshine it can get.