Chapter Text
Few things moved you in life after losing everything. Itadori knew loss all too well; the first loss he suffered was that of his parents, who were struck down by a horrific accident that had killed them both.
Death, ironically, was something that always haunted him for no apparent reason; his grandfather, who died in a lonely hospital bed, bid him farewell with a few words that echoed in his mind every day.
And even when everything was lost and he ended up condemned by his own desire to save those he loved, with a death sentence breathing down his neck, he never stopped smiling at life.
It made the pain hurt at least a little less.
Or so he used to believe; reality turned into a bomb that exploded right under his nose every so often. As sorcery students, making a decision like that would have been stupid.
They were fifteen; Itadori barely understood the society they had joined, and Megumi fought for everyone but himself.
Under those circumstances, the young Fushiguro succumbed to the needs of the heat of his partner after the bridge curse mission. They hadn’t planned it well, but hey, the idea of putting an Alpha and a young Omega face to face had been Professor Gojo’s idea.
So… the situation resulted in a flood of newly confessed feelings, several nights huddled together in the Omega’s nest, and the sweet smile of the boy with pink hair as they embraced in the nakedness of their bodies.
«Did they think about the consequences?» Not really. By the time they realized it, it was already late September, and Shoko was so angry she was thinking of giving them both a huge slap. Itadori was four weeks pregnant, with a short gestation period, and Megumi Fushiguro was the father of her pup.
The black-haired boy had been so shaken that, almost in the midst of the turmoil, he was about to accept the Zenin clan. Thank the gods, they had a support network. Professor Gojo was the first to stand up for the two of them; he had met with the elders, assuring them of the survival of the pup who would become the Zenin legacy, and that the status as a vessel would in no way affect the heir’s future.
Then, along with Gojo, others came forward to support them: Nanami in her own time, Nobara, the stubborn aunt who had called them out for having a romance before she did, and of course Principal Yaga, who reluctantly accepted them while blaming their teacher for the lack of manners he hadn’t instilled in them.
Well… it wasn’t all Professor Gojo’s fault; Megumi loved Yuji and Yuji loved Megumi. They had fluttered around each other like moths to a bright light until they crashed into a thunderous collision.
Maki linked it to an old tale of soulmates and couples whose destinies were decided before their birth.
So by the end of October, the nightmare arrived after a brief period of routine happiness and tireless missions.
He had lost so much…
Nanami… Nobara… and in the weakest moment of his life, trapped by the feeling of nearly dying, Sukuna took over his body, destroying so many lives.
They all hurt him, each and every one of the slaughtered humans; yet the one that hurt him the most was his own cub. At first, he didn’t feel it, at least not when the battle with Mahito ended. Not when Kenjaku noticed it and frowned at the milky scent while laughing hysterically.
He called it “his masterpiece that could produce other little vessels.” He didn’t notice it for a second because he trusted what Shoko had said.
“It’s too early for them to be affected; you and your baby will be safe as long as you protect it with your cursed energy.”
But everything fell apart. Professor Gojo was sealed away, Megumi was seriously injured, there were more dead than alive, and Nobara… she…
He didn't have the courage to go back to school. He dragged himself, along with his newly proclaimed brother who had beaten him up earlier, to an old, abandoned building. That's where it happened, next to the stacked pillows that Choso had helped him arrange. It took a while because of the aftermath of the battle, but he detected the scent when they cleaned themselves with damp cloths. The resurrected curse was also an Omega. Choso explained that it was because their father, Kamo, had created them so that in the future they could conceive others like themselves without needing a curse again.
Creepy.
That night, they shared stories, trying to get to know each other, vulnerable and with a sense of betrayal weighing on their chests. Itadori felt it. First, it was a jolt that churned his stomach. A strange dizziness, then an unbearable pain in his abdomen, causing him to double over in agony on top of his uniform. Choso stood up, alarmed; the Omega knelt down beside him. On his side of the pillow fort. “What’s wrong? Itadori, what’s wrong?”
He couldn’t hear him, only the pounding in his ears as the discomfort rose to his throat, an unbearable bile that churned his stomach along with the dizziness; he’d felt morning sickness before, but this was different. Two hours filled with chills and the growing fear that paralyzed him. With Choso barely holding him up. Trying to calm him with soothing pheromones.
The cardamom stung his nose, filling the air around him with a soft scent of royal lily. By midnight, a deadly pain pierced him; a huge red stain covered the pillows beneath the two Omegas, shattering the already broken heart of Sukuna’s vessel.
The crying that followed was unbearable; the sensation of loss pierced his brain.
His Omega blamed him for losing the pup he had so fervently demanded from his Alpha.
The next morning they had to get moving; Itadori was still in pain, so Choso practically carried him on his back. Neither he nor his self-proclaimed brother fit the mold of ordinary Omegas. They were strong, fierce, and had greater control over their pheromones; they weren’t feminine or delicate.
That’s why carrying him was easy for the black-haired man on his back. They stole a change of clothes for Itadori, a new pair of pants that weren’t stained with blood; he had to clean himself with wet wipes. He was a mess and felt so guilty; that abnormal bleeding was a clear sign. He could no longer feel that small flame of cursed energy growing in his belly; his milky scent had turned bitter.
Guilt, he didn’t feel capable of going back to school, of facing Megumi. Not when he’d lost his baby because of his weakness.
Sukuna was clear: he wasn’t interested in anything to do with him, not with a weak Omega in whom he had to reside, limited by Itadori’s strong will.
Those were tough weeks; they got food from looted stores and slept in destroyed buildings, every night under blankets or pillows piled on the floor, side by side, because Choso’s warmth was the only thing that comforted him in the loneliness of losing his child.
He clung to the Jujutsu school sweater, which still held a faint trace of Megumi’s scent of sandalwood and vetiver.
Megumi… he missed him so much; he wanted to know if he was okay, yet at the same time he didn’t feel capable of facing that rough, expressionless, disappointed look on his face.
He fought off curses, exorcised modified humans, practiced strike after strike, trying to make himself stronger, at least so he could die with a shred of honor, after losing everything because of the massacre he had unleashed.
Aching and sickly, even though Choso helped him, even though he cared for him when fevers struck at night, still, stubborn as ever, the boy with the pink mane refused to ask for help.
At least until he showed up; he’d been gone for about fifteen days, leaving no trace other than the few spots where he’d rested. His hunt had begun shortly after Shibuya fell, but he hadn’t expected them to find him so quickly.
That cold-eyed black-haired man had pierced his chest, an angry alpha, or at least that’s what he thought until he woke up by the crackling fire. Yuta Okkotsu looked at him with pity as he finished heating up some soup.
“I’m sorry, Itadori. I didn’t know you were an Omega; you don’t look like one,” he murmured sadly. The rest was history. After telling him how they’d killed him and brought him back to life, he faced what he’d been avoiding all those days.
Megumi, the Shadow User, furious and with a face flushed from crying, hugged him tightly, enveloping him in his scent. Damn it, he missed that so much, but at the same time, it hurt him.
That desolation of witnessing his beloved desperate, with a reproachful gaze and teary eyes. Because in the privacy of his heart, Megumi was… more in need than he let on.
“Why the hell did you leave!”
His voice was thick with tension. Yuta poked at the fire with a stick, nervous. Two alphas sharing space. Itadori had fought with Okkotsu; he probably smelled of him.
But it wasn’t just that. “I couldn’t come back… not after what… I did.”
Megumi raised an eyebrow indignantly and grabbed Itadori’s wrist harder than he intended. “Stop that now, they need us at school, we’re regrouping, but there are few of us and most of us are injured… A lot of people died but we can’t stay like this… my sister… she’s going to wake up… There were anomalies at the hospital where she’s admitted. Please, Itadori, we promised to save each other. If you can’t save yourself, save me… and I’ll do the same for you.”
Silence, tears. Itadori wasn’t sure what to feel at that moment; he was dizzy. Megumi lowered his hand to his stomach and caressed him with an inexplicable warmth. That made him feel even more ashamed.
Damn guilt…
Nerves were eating him up inside; he was freezing, too cold, and he smelled bad, sour, desperate, and distressed.
Choso appeared out of nowhere, because he’s good at sneaking around. “Itadori… wait… calm down, you’re not in good shape.”
Megumi’s eyes widened when he noticed how pale the omega was. Yuta also stood up, distressed. “I thought it was just because I brought him back from the dead.”
Megumi glared at him, but didn’t waste any time grabbing Itadori by the shoulders and looking at him closely, holding back his tears, trembling.
“Is he sick?”
The bearer of the ten shadows asks. “Yes, he… had a spontaneous incident a few days ago. His health hasn’t done anything but get worse. During the day he manages to hold on, but at night it gets difficult for him, due to environmental factors and… your absence.”
Choso explains reluctantly, because the boy looks at him with reproach, closing his eyes, unable to look at Megumi, unable to face him. But it’s no problem; Megumi lifts him up like a bride and, with a single glance, announces that they’re heading back to the school of sorcery.
They arrive in the early hours of the morning. Yuta is exhausted, so he leaves first. Choso accompanies Megumi to the infirmary, where Shoko is sitting and reading medical records for half of the Jujutsu Society.
When she sees them come in, she immediately goes on high alert; even without touching him, she begins to assess his condition. “Lay him on the stretcher, Fushiguro,” the doctor orders, so Itadori has no choice but to obey and lie still.
He doesn’t feel as bad as he has on other nights, but the chills and pain persist.
“You have to tell me what happened…”
Shoko’s voice is firm as she checks the pinkhead’s vital signs. Yuji tries to keep his breathing steady, inhaling and exhaling with fear. “I… it’s just that I…” The tears burst forth like a dam breaking; his amber eyes twinkle like stars on the verge of fading. “It’s just that I… I lost the pup… I lost him when Sukuna took control… he fought against Megumi’s general… and my body… couldn’t… couldn’t protect him anymore.”
His voice comes out jumbled between gasps and regrets; Shoko hands him some pills to calm him down and asks him to take off his clothes.
A medical gown awaits him before Shoko disappears through a door; he doesn’t dare look at Megumi, he can’t.
The doctor returns with several instruments, which she places on a tray, and feels Itadori’s abdomen. “It’s swollen; you may have debris inside. We need to remove it so it stops affecting your health and your body can heal properly.”
He feels embarrassed that Megumi won't leave; though he doesn't look at the black-haired man, he keeps one hand on his, squeezing it.
Shoko briefly explains the procedure to him: suction to remove trapped tissue, since abortion hasn't completed, and some of the remaining tissue got stuck. Maybe it’s his fault, maybe he clung too tightly to his child. Dr. Ieiri uses something she calls a suction cannula, while asking Itadori to keep his legs apart. It’s difficult since the stretcher isn’t designed for this, but the sorceress doctor seems prepared for anything.
The goal is to remove any remnants of the pregnancy from the uterus; that will allow the problems, at least the ones preventing him from being 100% well, to disappear.
It takes a while; he trembles with nerves as she works in the area. “It’s a good thing they got you here in time. You were on the edge of developing an infection. You have to be careful, or you’ll damage your uterus permanently.”
Her words aren’t harsh; they sound like when Professor Gojo used to worry about his safety. It’s almost the same tone.
She sends him to his room to rest, two days without stress and with painkillers, an ibuprofen for the pain. So Megumi leaves him halfway there; she disappeared before reaching the door, holding back anything she might have said.
Itadori feels this as a rejection; the sandalwood retreating so quickly that it makes his skin crawl. Damn… he just wanted to do the right thing, so when he enters his room, he curls up on his bed, which suddenly feels uncomfortable. It’s a haphazard plan of action: he pulls the blankets off the bed, takes another set of blankets out of the closet, and starts building a nest on the floor. He uses every pillow he has. He arranges his clothes around them to create a little fort. That’s better; normally he’d do this in bed, but… he doesn’t like the feeling of comfort.
It’s like an insult after what he did to Megumi; resting peacefully without pain feels pretty good, though he tries not to enjoy it too much. The night is lonely, so quiet that he allows himself to sob without making a sound. He isn’t a weak person, he never has been, but he can’t comprehend the pain he’s feeling.
He could say he needs to wallow in his safety for a while; someone knocks on the door several times, but he doesn’t feel able to open it. On one such occasion, Yuta’s voice echoes from the other side. “Itadori…” he whispers, in that creepy voice of his, “they told me to let you rest. We’ve noticed you go to the kitchen when no one’s around… I… I’m sorry about the hunt. I really didn’t know that Professor Gojo’s new student was an Omega.”
Under different circumstances, he would have stood up to Yuta; it had taken him a while to understand that there was nothing wrong with being a link in the chain that others considered weak.
“Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t a sexist rant, I promise. It’s just that, by my very nature, I prefer not to hurt them… I really feel bad about what happened to you… Maki told me. I’m sorry about your pup.”
The silence is painful; he hears a sigh, and then a hand rest against the tatami door. “I know you might not want to talk, but if you need to get something off your chest… Come find me. I’m a good listener, and Professor Gojo told me to look out for you because everyone adores you.”
His voice fades away little by little, until the Alpha decides to leave with slow strides.
Itadori lets out a listless sigh from where he sits; he knows he can’t go on like this, and reluctantly stands up from his nest scented with peach and honey.
He decides to head to the shower to wash away the grime of the past few days in complete silence; he no longer smells of sour milk, nor does he smell of milk at all.
He scrubs his skin half-heartedly, lingering longer than expected under the stream of water; he needs to clear his head. Far from being rejected by his own partner, he also has to think about the world of sorcery to which he now belongs.
Fifteen minutes after convincing himself that he must stop being a crybaby, he steps out of the shower wrapped in clean pajamas. He barely dries his hair, still listless, and leaves the bathroom.
His eyes rest on the person in front of him, sitting on the bed with the sheets untouched. Megumi looks contemplative as he watches the door like a crouching raven ready to strike.
“Fushiguro,” he calls; the black-haired man’s eyes fix on him with overwhelming intensity. The green looks like a muddy swamp, as if the light color were hidden by something otherworldly.
“You’ve been sleeping on the floor… Why aren’t you making yourself comfortable, taking care of yourself…?”
The black-haired man reproaches him with a furrowed brow. Itadori’s gaze flashes with concern. “I… I don’t feel comfortable in bed.”
He admits, the hunched raven looking up, straightening toward him. His eyes meet the pinkhead’s amber gaze.
“I don’t like it.”
And Megumi has always been clear about what he doesn’t like. He stands up, stepping closer, suddenly dropping the news of what he’s been hiding from him.
Itadori feels a drop of sweat slide down his neck; the scent of sandalwood is strong, reinforced by vetiver, while his room is overpowered by the smell of an alpha in heat. “I felt bad for not having protected you… I should have been there so you wouldn’t lose the baby. I selfishly thought about sacrificing myself for everyone again and didn’t think about how alone I’d leave you… I regretted being weak.”
He clarified, standing up and leaning down toward Itadori’s face; a few months ago, he had been taller, but now Fushiguro was half a head taller than him. It was unfair that even the scent of hormones in heat made him think the black-haired boy looked sexy.
“I don’t want to be weak anymore. You lost a puppy because we left the weight of everything on your shoulders and you were overwhelmed. I know you’re not someone who needs protecting; you can handle it perfectly well on your own.”
His hands trace the contours of Itadori’s cheeks, as if that could calm his chest, which is racing from Megumi’s hormones acting like an unbridled aphrodisiac.
His legs feel weak when Megumi kisses him. It’s okay; that’s what he’s been waiting for since he came back. He feels stupid for feeling relieved, after all, Megumi was just going through his own grief.
“I don’t want you to be sad about losing the baby… if necessary, I’ll put another one in there just to make you happy.”
A blush spreads across Sukuna’s vessel’s cheeks, matching his strawberry-colored hair. Megumi is intoxicated by the peach scent; Itadori is up to his neck in sandalwood. The two of them are a living disaster, needy, sad, and eternally theirs.
Shoko told him to avoid intimacy for a while, so there wouldn’t be any discomfort in his private area, yet succumbing to Megumi is so easy that falling docilely to his knees is almost routine.
He has never been able to say no to him; he makes him feel safe, warm, and alive.
Alive.
That feeling he has been chasing since the incident on October 31.
Megumi’s fingers curl under his shirt, his nails scraping desperately against his skin as they kiss like lovers torn apart by war. The black-haired boy doesn’t like sweets; he always complains that Itadori eats too much sugar. Yet he’s addicted to the omega’s scent, sinking into the taste of his skin. It’s the only candy he can enjoy; the thick honey between their lips turns into sweet musk.
“Fuck.”
The pink-haired boy whispers as the raven sinks deep inside him, shaking him with pleasure because Megumi is impatient. They’ve used lube because Itadori is still a little stiff from the medical procedure a few days ago. The cursed boy has good self-control, so he enjoys these sensations with full awareness.
He gasps when the black-haired one caresses his clitoris, pressing his folds harder against the stiff erection between his legs. The taller one holds him tightly in his arms, spilling his love everywhere, specifically onto the soft walls of the omega, who lets him do as he pleases without a problem. One after another, Fushiguro drives him to madness.
Two whole days subsisting on each other’s skin, drained to the bone, tired and full.
That’s how he feels as he nears the end of the tunnel, when Megumi’s passion subsides, leaving him covered in bites and hickies. His breathing calms as he rests on the alpha’s bare chest, caressing the relaxed features of that sleeping beauty. He strokes the bridge of his nose, sliding timidly toward his eyelids.
Itadori feels lucky to still be able to love him, even after everything he’d caused around him, the loss of half of Shibuya, the loss of his pup.
They wake up tangled in a mess of disheveled blankets and intertwined limbs, deciding to take a shower together, finally finding a bit of peace after the last few days filled with emotions he can barely describe.
Under the stream of water, Itadori looks up after so many weeks of avoiding the black-haired boy’s green eyes, who is busy lathering his strawberry hair. “I’m sorry,” whispers the shorter one, as he enjoys the caresses on his pink hair. “I’m even more sorry. I’d talked to the professor about training more; I didn’t want to fall behind, but I realized I couldn’t protect you at all that night.”
His murmurs are full of guilt; he feels as though the pale, taller boy will melt like sand in his arms. “I can do it on my own.”
Megumi nodded, rinsing his pink hair. “I know, Yuji, but I can’t promise you that what happened in Shibuya isn’t my fault too… I had no idea Sukuna was free, and I didn’t think it through when I freed Mahogara. Without me, all that destruction wouldn’t have happened. I gave him the battlefield to fight on, and the opponent.”
The young man murmured as his wet hair stuck to his forehead; Itadori stroked his cheek compassionately. “You’re strong, Fushiguro. You really are. That’s why we’re still here, the two of us.”
The taller one hummed, still under the stream of warm water; his damp hand rested on the scar Shibuya had left him, at the corner of his lips. “I’m sorry I didn’t control myself during this Rut, Itadori.”
The rosy-haired boy smiled faintly. “Actually… It doesn't bother me at all. I’m a little hungry, but I appreciate that you came looking for me. I thought that after what happened with the baby, you’d walk away forever.”
His voice trailed off considerably at the end of the sentence, leaving the dark-haired boy speechless. “Yuji, you’re an idiot.”
He mocks him with a faint, uncontrollable chuckle. Itadori feels an inexplicable warmth inside, because Megumi has never laughed like that before; he’s rarely seen this reaction from him, and right now it feels like a moment he desperately wants to etch into his memories. “I’d never leave you behind. Have you forgotten? We promised to save each other forever.”
The pink-haired boy can only smile, though the sadness doesn’t fade; they have to set the pain aside and keep moving forward. Later, they meet up with the others. Maki teases them, saying that Megumi is starting to show signs of the Zenin gene for locking up his partner during the Rut.
There’s a brief moment of laughter, followed by a joke from Panda about how, if Yuta were an omega, Maki would have already gotten him pregnant. The girl laughs, announcing that she’s still trying to achieve the impossible. Hearing Maki laugh feels strange now, but he doesn’t reject it.
It almost feels like being in the past, almost like any ordinary school day. He looks sadly at the empty hallways; missing is the sound of Professor Gojo’s laughter announcing a practice in the garden, the stoic footsteps of Nanami down the hallway. Principal Yaga grumbling on the phone; it feels strange now that he has learned that he, too, has died.
The wind blows, breaking the heavy silence; he no longer hears Nobara’s heels clacking down the hallway, nor her complaints about going shopping and using Itadori as her errand boy.
Everything is so… hollow…
Unconsciously, he brings a hand to his stomach, feeling nothing but the growl of his hungry stomach. Void…
Distracted, he doesn’t notice when someone speaks to him. “Who’s that?”
Itadori looks at Choso, who doesn’t even realize when he arrived. “For now, he’s something like my brother.”
Choso is so happy he shouts, but most of them ignore him as they make their way toward the old temple. At the entrance to Tengen’s lair, there’s no time to dwell on it any further, so he walks steadily down the corridor, which is strangely stained with blood. It’s eerie; Yuji has been there only once, and returning makes his skin crawl.
They have to keep moving forward, at least for now; they can't dwell on the past, they must stay resilient. They must keep going, to survive, to protect others, and to save Megumi.
Just as that thought crossed his mind, the dark-haired boy’s hand slipped in to clasp his. Itadori looked at it, large and heavy, yet with the gentleness that characterized the young man. Yes, that made it easier for Itadori to carry on; he wanted to stay by Megumi’s side.