Megumi decides he's going to stop underestimating the power of a good night's sleep. Realistically, it's probably not the biggest change he could make in his life. But baby steps and all that shit. He'll get there one day.
He's really starting to believe he'll get there one day. It's a nice feeling. Thinking about the one day.
It helps to imagine Yuuji in it. Even as the guilt at pulling his boyfriend into this world threatens to flay him alive, it still helps. He doesn't remember when it started. When he started imagining a future. A proper future, with Yuuji in it. Not just in it, but a future where Yuuji is it. And it all becomes a little bit easier. Believing in the one day. Believing in the love that Gojo promised might be worth it all. Be worth everything.
After a full eight hours rest, a phone call with Yuuji, breakfast Gojo teleported from Bordeaux and a freshly washed uniform, he stands beside his classmates feeling lighter than he has in a while. He might even go so far as to say he's happy. Stood beside his friends, knowing that Yuuji's going to be safe and the whole Choso thing will get sorted out. Yeah, he'd say he's feeling happy.
And there's nothing that makes him even happier than beating the absolute fuck out of assholes (apart from his boyfriend and his family and his friends and ginger sprinkled over onigiri). Especially when those assholes are Kyoto students. And especially when his bitchy cousin, shithead of an ex-crush, and Todo Aoi are those Kyoto students.
"Someone's in a better mood," Nobara points out as she saunters over to him, leaving the second years to themselves. She leans her chin on his shoulder, arching a brow up at him. "Yeah," he nods, running his tongue over his teeth. "All good now."
"Great," she smirks. "I was getting super sick of your little gay meltdown. It was exhausting to watch."
"Fuck you." Scowling, he easily shoulders her off of him. She just giggles in response, an infuriating sound, as she steps away, skirt flailing around her legs. "I wasn't having a meltdown."
"Oh, you totally were. At least now I know all you need to get over it, is getting laid."
"What the hell are you talking about?" he stutters out, getting more irritated because he can feel his face reddening, which just makes him blush even more. This girl is going to be the death of him before any curse. He doesn't understand what he did to be forced to live amongst the most infuriating people that walk this earth. Maybe he was a tyrant in his past life. A curse malicious enough and base enough to rival Sukuna. Even then, he doesn't know if that would be reason enough for gifting him Gojo Satoru and Kugisaki Nobara.
"I didn't-I wasn't even-I stayed at Gojo's place last night, asshole," he hisses, ignoring the way Nobara's watching him through narrowed eyes, like she doesn't quite believe him. "I needed his help. Needed to talk to him. I wasn't…I didn't even see Yuuji."
"Okay," she shrugs, hands on her hips. "So all you needed was a hug from your dad, I get it."
"He is not my dad," Megumi splutters in protest, even as his heart sinks weirdly at his own words. Fuck his entire life, why is Nobara trying to terrorise him like this? For a moment, he considers swiping her legs out from underneath her, yanking her into a spar before she can do anything about it.
"Freud would have such a field day with you, Fushiguro," she wheezes, hysterically laughing to herself. "You are literally the poster child for father complexes."
"Well done, dumbass," he rolls his eyes, easily yanking her into a headlock as the second years make their way over to them. "You know the name of one psychologist."
"Let go of me!" she squeals as she tries futilely to get out of his grasp, punching his arm with all her, admittedly little, strength. "You're gonna fuck up my hair, dickhead!" Crazy that this is what she is concerned about, but Megumi doesn't have time to ridicule her any further before Panda is yanking the two of them apart.
"Get it together, guys," he grunts fondly, holding the two of them up by their collars even as Nobara swings her legs out towards Megumi in a futile attempt to kick him.
"Stop it," Maki snaps, and Nobara instantly falls still. Megumi snorts, and suddenly two pairs of very irritated, borderline murderous eyes fall upon him. "You're already on thin ice, Fushiguro," Maki tells him, warningly swapping Playful Cloud from hand to hand. "Skipping out on training the day before the event, seriously?"
"What else do we expect from the kid raised by Gojo-senpai?" Panda murmurs as he sets Nobara and Megumi back onto their feet. The former starts erratically brushing her fingers through her hair, as if this is a photoshoot and not a weird, slightly less murderous version of the Hunger Games, while Megumi swallows around the lump in his throat.
"I expect more than that from my kohai," she responds sharply, lips pressed into a tight frown. "You know how much this means, Megumi. To everyone."
Which frankly is a crazy thing to say, because he actually couldn't give less of a fuck about this entire thing. He doesn't really care about the rivalry between the two schools, or the rivalry between the Zenin twins or the rivalry between the Kamos and the Gojos and the Zenins which has somehow manifested in pitting the two schools against each other. As if by some magic, Kamo and Mai beating Megumi and Maki will solve all their issues. Like it will set Gojo Satoru's head neatly on the chopping block, and bring Megumi back to the Zenins in chains.
But he understands that Maki cares about it all. So, he keeps his mouth shut.
"And don't let him drag you down," she continues, attention now directed at Nobara. "Keep focused. Keep your eyes on me, alright?" As if Nobara would need any help doing that, he thinks to himself as everyone positions themselves to ready up.
"Okay guys," Maki says as they wait for the speaker hanging above them to start up. "This is it. We've got this. We're going to bring them down to their knees."
As Gojo's voice rings out across the forest from the speaker, Megumi shifts his weight from one foot to the other, fingers twitching to the beat of his own heart. Here we go, he thinks to himself. Here we go. In his head, he hears Yuuji's voice cheering him along. He doesn't know when that happened – when he stopped hearing his thoughts in his own voice and started hearing them in Yuuji's instead.
Give them hell, he imagines Yuuji saying. Smiling wide, all boyish and toothy and with that slightly vicious competitiveness he thinks he hides way better than he actually does. When they're playing Valorant and he's three rounds down, or Megumi's keeping a faster pace on their runs and Yuuji's left eye twitches erratically.
Honestly, Megumi kinda wishes he could see what Yuuji might be like in a situation like this. With swords drawn and fists tightened, and teeth bared. With everyone itching to spill blood. With everyone counting on spilling blood.
The thought of his boyfriend here with him definitely horrifies him. But then Megumi pictures Yuuji bringing Kamo, or Todo, or Mai down to the ground with his muscles tightened and his eyes sparkling and his mouth goes completely dry. Fucking hell, he's down bad.
Atrociously bad. And now he desperately wants to beg Yuuji to spar with him just to see. Just to taste. Just to-
"Snap the fuck out of it, Fushiguro." Now that voice definitely doesn't sound like Yuuji's. It very much belongs to Nobara, who is clicking her fingers in front of his face with a scowl painted across her face.
"The rules of this event are very simple!" Gojo says, sounding a lot like he's shouting into the microphone – because that is exactly the type of thing he would do. "The first team to exorcise the second-grade cursed spirit released in the designated area wins! Several third-grade and lower-grade cursed spirits will be released into the designated area as well. If a winner is not decided by sundown, the team that exorcises the most wins. There are absolutely no other rules," he adds on at the end, singing the words.
"No murder!" Utahime's voice chimes in. Beside him, Nobara winces, looking slightly horrified that that needed clarified at all. And beside her, Maki grins wider, kissing her teeth as she swings her blade from hand to hand.
"Yes, I should've made that clearer," Gojo says, and Megumi can hear the eyeroll in his voice. "Be certain not to kill other competitors or injure them beyond repair."
"Of course, you're welcome to sabotage the others," Utahime adds. "But remember, you're all on the same side in the fight against the curses." All of Megumi's classmates laugh at that, Maki's giggle ringing out louder than the rest as it harmonises with the hum of her blade swishing through the air. "This exchange event will allow you to learn about yourselves and your comrades through competition."
"But don't be scared to get violent, kids!" Gojo adds. "There's no rules against temporarily injuring each other!"
"Would you shut up?" Utahime snaps, voice fraying in irritation. Megumi tries to picture the two of them, Utahime and Gojo, at sixteen themselves. Stood on the opposite sides of the same forest, just like they are now. Smiling and laughing, starving with the hunger to prove themselves. Uniforms pressed, lined up with their classmates, weapons in their own hands.
Not that Gojo would have been holding a katana, or a naginata or a tessen. Even back then, braced at the precipice of youth, ready to freefall down towards godhood, Gojo Satoru hadn't needed anything more than himself to bring down an entire forest.
"While some degree of injury might be unavoidable, how about you all uhmm…" Utahime trails off, as if she is also now realising how ridiculous she sounds trying to encourage them to fight together. "Well...now and then, help each other out. Or something."
"Wow Utahime," Gojo clicks his tongue, voice dry and unimpressed. "Really inspiring. Now, let the event begin!"
"Respect your seniors, you ignorant-" Utahime snaps back, but her voice is already being drowned out by the sound of the Tokyo students' footsteps pounding along the forest floor. Diving over upturned roots, kicking up stones and splashing over streams as they sprint.
As his breathing labours, the fresh air cutting through his chest, a smile rips its way across Megumi's face. If he were younger, or lighter or someone else, he would maybe let out the yell of glee that threatens to burst out of him. But he is older and heavy and Fushiguro Megumi and so he settles for the grin stretching his cheeks so hard it hurts.
"Remember," Maki calls to all of them as they come to the part of the forest where they've planned to split up. The Kyoto class's plan was easy to figure out. It made sense for Todo to try and crush them all straight away – wiping them all off of the board before they even got the chance to exorcize a Grade-Four. So they decided (Maki decided) that they would split up, and try and pick off the Kyoto kids one by one.
"We are not letting Yuta come back to losers." Her voice softens slightly, curving over Yuta's name like it's something she holds a little more carefully than most. "We are not letting Gojo-sensei down. And we are sure as hell not giving this to the Zenins and the Kamos."
Nodding in agreement, Megumi glances to the side to see his classmates grinning. Nobara lets out a loud whoop, face flushed with pink, and eyes blown wide with an unhinged thrill that Megumi has only ever seen Jujutsu sorcerers wearing. It looks good on her. Especially as she leaps over a fallen tree, red hair flying out behind her like a halo. Like a Valkyrie, soaring through the skies to select the souls of the slain.
"Give 'em hell!" Panda roars, Inumaki's eyes crinkling in delight as they race through the forest together, peeling away from the group. Megumi goes to follow their lead, turning over his shoulder to give Maki and Nobara one last nod. But as he moves, something slams into him, bringing him down to the ground with a sickening cracking sound.
"Megumi!" He hears Nobara yell. Vision blurry and head pounding, he tries his best to gather his surroundings, letting out a hiss of irritation when he picks up on familiar Cursed Energy. He's been trapped by a net of solid blood, swept clean off of his feet. Spitting out leaves, the shadows cast by the trees swallow him up.
"I'm fine," he calls back to Nobara as he easily steps back onto his feet. Beneath him, the net of solidified blood seizes up and crumbles, crimson soaking into the forest floor. Crouching down into his fighting stance, it doesn't take long to lock onto the figure in front of him. He should've expected this. He just always forgets how fucking lame the clans are. "Stick to the plan!" he orders before surging towards Kamo, teeth bared and frustration searing through his veins already.
"Hello Fushiguro-kun," the other boy muses as he easily evades Megumi's punch, ducking out of his reach. "I've been waiting for this day, I must admit." As he speaks, he easily steps further and further away from Megumi, slinking around trees and deftly manoeuvring over rocks and fallen branches. He moves like a dancer; Megumi has to give it to him. Beautifully done, each step poised and graceful. Even as crimson seeps through his eyes, pools down his wrists, and circles his fingers like a king's ring.
He moves like a dancer, but Megumi moves with his shadows. Each step Kamo takes away, refusing to engage in close combat, Megumi slinks closer. Steps silent and swift, the darkness that seeps over everything like glue pulls Megumi closer to the other boy.
It's as if the forest moves for them. Bending and bowing to the two heirs, similar in title only.
"You have been holding out on us, Fushiguro-kun," Kamo says easily, even as he shoots arrow after arrow towards Megumi. He doesn't break eye contact, looking at Megumi the same way people look at still paintings of great wars pinned behind glass, or mollified beasts waiting to die in cages. Like he knows something Megumi doesn't. Like he can see Megumi's own demise clearer than he can. Like Megumi hasn't been planning his own demise his entire lifetime.
Yuuji looks at him like he's an idiot. And like he's the funniest guy in Japan. And like him reaching up to pick something off of the top shelf at the konbini is the hottest thing he's ever seen. Yuuji looks at him like he's another sixteen-year-old boy. A sixteen-year-old boy he might like just as much as Megumi likes him.
"We were not aware your Jujutsu had manifested this strongly yet." It is so insanely creepy how these clan freaks talk about themselves as one entity. Like they're not just a bunch of traditional, insane misogynistic pigs but some hivemind of Gods. "It is very impressive to be this strong this young, Fushiguro-kun," Kamo says. As if he's not two years older than him.
Megumi thinks about how last year, his heart might've stopped at Kamo saying his name. He would've blushed under his attention, eyes widening and throat drying and knees buckling. Now he just really wants this guy to fuck off and leave him alone.
Tired and irritated and slightly frantic at the idea of losing the good mood he only just managed to snatch up, he decides to switch up tactics. He goes on the offence, desperate to hurry this thing up, and yanks out a tanto from his shadows before he lets himself fall through them. Spinning the blade in his hand, he manages to step back into the sunlight right out behind Kamo, slashing at his arm.
Hissing with pain, the other boy slides out of the way, narrowing his eyes in Megumi's direction. "Shikigamiusers who can fight this well in close combat are precious."
"Good thing you're not even competent enough to land a hit on me then," he shrugs in response. Arrows whir past him, sloppier with Kamo's clear frustration. He lets his flying toads snap them in their tongues before they even get to him.
"I am trying to sympathise," Kamo hisses. "Someday you will be one of those supporting the major clans. We will work together in the near future."
"Are you people ever gonna let that shit go?"
Kamo hesitates for a moment, and Megumi can't tell if he's cringing at the swearing, or the blatant disrespect for everything he holds in high regard. "That is not how this works, Fushiguro-kun."
"Well, then we're just going to have to kill each other, because like fuck am I ever working with you. Might as well just get it over and done with now," he adds, tilting his head. Because even though they are not allowed to maim or kill each other, everyone knows the rules apply a little differently to the clan heirs. And as much as Megumi refuses to acknowledge that status for himself, he's down to let it slide if it gives him the pass to take Kamo's head clean off.
"I cannot afford to lose!" Kamo yells, borderline shrieking, and Megumi is panting from exertion, but he still manages to roll his eyes. Seriously, these clan people are fucking freaks. They somehow manage to make Gojo Satoru look reasonable, normal and level-headed. An enormous feat in of itself. He just wishes they would stop trying to drag him into all of their bullshit.
Or at least that they would stop trying to ambush him. At least here, him and Kamo are on an equal footing. Here, with the wind rushing across his face and his hair whipping in front of his face and his blood roaring, Megumi feels kind of invincible in a way. Despite it all, despite everything, he's always known how to do this.
Even when he was a bad son, or a bad student or a bad friend or a bad brother, he was always a good fighter. And now, he's a good soldier. Soon, he'll be good enough to scythe them all down. All of the Zenins, if that's what it takes.
Like Achilles, he will tear them apart with all the anger of a twelve-year-old boy. With all the anger of a twelve-year-old boy with shaking fists and trembling teeth. With all the anger and rage and vengeance of the twelve-year-old boy who was never allowed to be kind, but never meant to be cruel.
The world's balance might have shifted when Gojo Satoru was born, but the Zenin's downfall was inked as soon as their blood ran through Fushiguro Megumi's veins.
Just as he manages to duck out of the way of an arrow of blood, crimson splattering across a tree and licking itself across his cheekbone, his phone rings in his pocket. He pauses in his tracks, which in turn causes Kamo to do the same, looking at Megumi like he's grown a second head.
"You can't be serious," the other boy says, tone dropping way back down to normal volume due to pure confusion and disbelief. "You're joking. This is a joke," he chokes out as Megumi flicks the blood off of his fingers before sliding his hand into his pocket and pulling out his phone. There's only three numbers set to go through Do Not Disturb. And only one of those has Yuuji singing the Attack on Titan theme as its ringtone.
"Hey, Yuu," he starts, narrowed eyes sliding to Kamo as the other boy's shoulders slump in what he thinks might now be defeat. "I'm actually kind of busy right now."
"Kind of busy?" He hears Kamo repeat under his breath, scratching the back of his neck as he waits for Megumi to finish. Well, at least the guy was raised to have some manners.
"You think I could call you back later or-"
"Nah."
Megumi almost drops his phone at the response. It's not his boyfriend on the other line. And suddenly he is twelve years old again, on his tiptoes and trying his best not to sob because he has no idea how to make everything better. No idea how to save himself. No idea how to save anyone.
"I don't think he's gonna have a lot of time to call you back," Naoya continues, and the sick suddenly churning in Megumi's stomach only rises further and further. The blade falls from his palm. He is no longer sixteen and invincible.
His fingers tremble around the phone. "I swear to Tengen if you've touched him, I'll-"
"You're not going to do shit, Megumi," Naoya snorts, poison dripping from his words all the way into Megumi's ear. "All you're gonna do is what I tell you to, alright?"
"What do you want?"
"You dead," Naoya replies easily. "Same thing I've wanted since your whore mother birthed you. I want you strung up by your neck in front of the entire clan, while they bow their knees to me. I want to keep the promise I made to you all those years ago, baby cousin. I want a grave deep enough for you and the whore twins, and I want to piss on it."
"You're repulsive." Knees buckling, back hitting a tree, bark digging into his shirt. Scrambling and scrambling and scrambling.
"Tell me something I don't know," Naoya clicks his tongue chastisingly, seemingly bored by the conversation now. "Look, it's your life or his, mongrel. Let's not make this any harder than it has to be."
"You'll let him go?" Megumi rushes to clarify, hating the way his voice comes out broken and desperate. But he doesn't think he's ever been anything else when it comes to Itadori Yuuji. He thought he'd get to be happy. Thought he'd get to be proud and fearless and happy with Yuuji.
"If I come to you. If I let you kill me, you won't touch him?"
"Sure. If you come alone, and ready to die, I'll let him go. I swear on the honour that is my name." And that doesn't mean a fucking thing. They both know it doesn't. But what choice does Megumi have?
What choice has he ever had?
"Okay," he breathes out, because that's the only thing left to say.
"I knew you were a smart kid, Gumi-chan," Naoya hums, before there is a clicking sound and the line goes dead. Megumi's head hangs, hands falling back down to his side. For a moment, he forgets how to breathe. And then something pinches his cheek, and he glances up to see Kamo in front of him, and to the side to see an arrowhead buried in the tree behind him.
"What the hell was that?" Kamo demands, another arrow already knocked back and positioned right for Megumi's forehead. Lips parting, he shakes his head lightly, unable to speak. And then his own shadow is swallowing his corporeal body up, because he cannot allow Kamo to kill him. Now, more than ever before, his life matters.
He stumbles out into the school's garage, shoes hitting against the concrete floor. It's easy to snap up Ijichi's keys from their place on the wall. It's easy to unlock the door to his car, falling into the driver's seat.
And then it's easy to scream. Cursing Naoya, and himself and his father and mother and Gojo and Tsumiki and Tengen himself. He screams and pounds his fist on the steering wheel and trembles with the overwhelming desire to break something. Preferably Naoya's face. Maybe his own. He screams and yells and roars like the stray hound everyone has always told him he is. The hound, grieving and pitiful and screaming at the sky because there isn't anything else to do.
Fuck, he was so selfish. And worse than that, he was stupid. So insanely stupid to think he could do this. Live two separate lives, without the rotting, awful flesh that is his godforsaken life seeping into Yuuji's life too. Each word he speaks is always sharp and his tongue is coated with blood and his world is literally haunted with the embodiment of everything cruel and wretched and desolate.
But somehow, everything he said to Yuuji had felt soft. Yuuji had made him feel like a goddamn poet. Screenshotting jokes he would text, or writing words Megumi used down in his notes app, or scribbling whispered words down on the back of receipts, or notebooks or the palm of his hand.
"I just like the way you say things," he had told Megumi one night, back when they were still only friends. "Sometimes you say something and I just-I'm like woah. And I never want to forget it. So, I make sure I don't."
Somehow, every time he kissed Yuuji he would forget everything in favour of the feeling of chapped lips and dry, pink hair beneath his fingers and a strong nose pressing against his cheek.
"What the hell are you doing?" Megumi had demanded another night, when the friendship had turned into the something more. Yuuji looked up at him with his big, doe eyes and the Xbox controller had gone slack in his hands. "You're trying to distract me," he had said pointedly, because Yuuji liked taking advantage of Megumi's weaknesses like that.
"Yeah," Yuuji had murmured, and Megumi couldn't look away from his lips. "Is it working?"
Somehow, Yuuji kept the curses at bay. The embodiment of kindness. He'd been all Megumi's. Even if just for a couple of months, Megumi had felt the sun's light against his skin in Yuuji's bedroom. Heart incarnate. Yuuji was the type of boy wars were started for.
Sat in the car, panting heavily and fingers trembling around the steering wheel, Megumi thinks he finally understands Gojo. Pushed to ruin by Geto Suguru, and seemingly quite happy to go along with it all. He finally understands Achilles, and realises all at once that there is no such thing as a good soldier. Like Achilles, his heart breaks and the only way he can imagine fixing it is with carnage.
Rolling back his shoulders, he goes to turn the key in the ignition, when someone clears their throat beside him. Head snapping to the side, he comes face to face with the devil himself.
"Get out of the car, Megumi," Gojo says, and he's not smiling. Not amused, not entertained. It's all very unlike Gojo Satoru. His nose is scrunched up under his blindfold, and Megumi can tell he's one thing away from snapping. It doesn't happen often, especially not anymore since Megumi is no longer a bratty preteen, but he's always been able to tell when Gojo's genuinely pissed off. This is clearly one of those times.
And Megumi is definitely about to be the one thing that makes him snap. Isn't he always? It might be the only thing he knows how to do. Making people bleed. Gojo Satoru most of all.
"Go away."
"Get out of the damn car!" Gojo explodes, fist slamming down on the roof of the car. Megumi doesn't say anything else, fingers already trembling where he's gripping the wheel so tight, he's half surprised the damn thing hasn't snapped. How the fuck does Gojo even know anything about this? The man must have a fucking listening device attached to his phone or something.
"Alright," Gojo sighs, shoulders tight with irritation. "Fuck it." And with that he's straightening up, and crossing easily over to the other side, before the door is being flung open and Gojo drops into the passenger seat. "You don't even know how to drive, you little shit," he tells him pointedly, gesturing to the gear stick. "If we want to even get anywhere, we're going to have to swap seats."
"What're you talking about?" Megumi hisses, because he really, really does not have time for this bullshit. He has got to get out of here and get to Yuuji as fast as he can. He has to fix this mess he made. The mess he has silently been stewing in since he was twelve. Since he was born with his name and his blood and his father's eyes.
"I'm coming with you," Gojo shrugs. "Obviously."
Megumi is now one second away from committing patricide. "Can you stop fucking around and get out? I've not got a lot of time here."
"I'm not the one fucking around," the man spits back, voice sharp and cold and painfully unlike Gojo. "You're the dumbass who tried to get in a car you don't even know how to drive so you can hand yourself over to the fucking Zenins." He's never heard Gojo sound so frustrated. Never at him. Sure, at Yaga and the Higher Ups and Shoko or Nanami whenever they try to bring up a genuine concern they have over Gojo's general wellbeing. But never at him.
He feels ten again, when the idea of disappointing Gojo felt like the worst thing that could happen. Back then, he didn't think he'd be able to bare it. But here he is, sixteen and shielding himself against it. Because now the idea of Yuuji being completely vulnerable to Zenin Naoya is a much worse, and very real, scenario.
"I wasn't going to just hand myself over," he tries to argue. It comes out a lot sulkier than he means it to. Gojo just stares at him, lips parted incredulously.
"Really Megumi?" he scoffs. "Then lets hear your big fucking idea! Please, I'm dying for you to explain yourself!"
"I really, genuinely despise you, you know that?" Megumi snaps back, because he can. Because it's the only thing he knows how to do with Gojo.
"Yeah, sure you do," the older man clicks his tongue chastisingly. "Now get out of the driving seat so the actual adult can get us there," he orders, gesturing to the door.
"You're not coming," he objects firmly. "And I don't think your dumb ass actually qualifies as an adult."
"Fuck, Megumi," Gojo cries out into hands, as he kicks his foot against the bottom of the car. "How many times do I have to save you until you start to believe in me? How many times do I have to prove that I'm not leaving you alone until you start actually seeing that you're not alone? I'm your family, and I'm not letting you go on a fucking suicide mission, okay?" He's panting now, voice frayed and weary, and Megumi is starting to wish this was a suicide mission, because he can't handle this right now with everything else going on.
"I don't-"
"Preferably I'd rather we wait and call for more backup, but if you want to go in just us, fine. Whatever. I'm sure between the two of us we can kill most of the Zenins anyway," Gojo huffs, folding his arms into his chest like a stroppy teenager.
"It wasn't going to be a suicide mission." The words come out broken. As if Megumi doesn't even believe it himself.
"Sure, Megs. You know I don't mind waiting for you to start loving yourself, okay? It's hard enough doing that as a teenager, I get that. Especially one that's got all the shit going on that you do. I don't mind waiting, but I'm not going to sit back and wait for you to get yourself killed. It's what makes you a poor sorcerer, by the way."
He literally cannot believe what he is hearing.
"Are you kidding me? This is what you want to talk about right now?"
"Why not?" Gojo shrugs, yanking his blindfold down around his neck. "No time like the present. The teacher-student review isn't for a couple more months but fuck it. You rely too much on your willingness to die. To summon Mahoraga. Tengen, every mission for you seems to turn into an opportunity to kill yourself. You need to get a grip, Megumi. Seriously. It's embarrassing."
"Maybe this is another consequence of your failed parenting!" Megumi hisses through gritted teeth. "Don't put it on me!"
"Yeah…you're probably right," Gojo groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. "But fuck, I can't just…look, this happened before, and I just stood by and ignored the situation. Because I didn't know what to say to him, or what to do to show him I cared or to…I didn't know how to fix him. To fix it. I'm not going to make the same mistakes this time."
"So, your idea is to instead ambush me by telling me you think I'm suicidal, and that it's pissing you off?" Megumi questions.
"I guess?" Gojo frowns. "I don't really know what to say here."
"Clearly! You never seem to. And stop comparing me to all your past fucked up relationships with people! That's what's fucking this one up too!"
"Right. Cool. Please, don't pull your punches here, Gumi-chan." And fuck him for using that nickname against him. Fuck Gojo for using everything he knows about Megumi against him. Fuck Gojo for knowing everything about Megumi.
"Whatever, I'm sending you to a fucking therapist as soon as we get back from this. They're paid to know what to say. That's not my job."
And like fuck is he going to a goddamn therapist, but he'll deal with this entire separate issue after he gets his boyfriend back from his psychopathic cousin.
"And what is your job?" Megumi demands, because he honestly is dying to know. Would love to hear what Gojo thinks he's supposed to be doing. Because whatever he thinks he's supposed to be doing definitely isn't what he should be doing. And somehow, he's still fucking up what he thinks he should be doing.
"My job is to look after you. And Miki. And-fuck…I know I've been kind of shit at it recently. And by recently I guess I mean the entire past decade. But I'm trying, alright? I don't know what the fuck I'm doing. How the fuck am I supposed to know what I'm doing!" The last part comes out as a strangled scream, and for a moment Gojo isn't Gojo Satoru anymore.
He isn't even Gojo: his teacher or his pseudo father figure/his actual, genuine real father. He's just Satoru. Satoru with the stupidest blue eyes, lined with tears of frustration. Satoru with the stupidest white hair and pitiful split ends. Satoru, who is also clearly on the edge of a nervous breakdown, breathing too heavily in this car, shoulders rising and falling in resentment.
"It's okay," Megumi sighs, even though it's not. He doesn't know what else to say anymore. He's sick and tired for waiting for everything to be okay. For everyone to start being okay. "For what it's worth, I think you're doing an okay job."
Gojo lets out a small scoff of disbelief, and Megumi resists the urge to smack him over the head. "Right. Well, your sister is in a coma and you're constantly trying to summon an exorcism that would end up with you dead, so I don't know about all that."
"I didn't say you were doing a great job," he points out.
"Fuck," Gojo swears, face buried in his hands. "I gotta tell you something before we do this, okay? Fuck, I should've told you earlier."
Megumi's stomach drops. "What?"
"I lied. I didn't- I helped Choso so he could watch over Yuuji. So, he could protect him, alright? I let Choso go, and I told him where Yuuji was and I sort of…created an entire fake life for Choso so he could legally adopt Yuuji. Like with a passport and everything. Fake degree too."
Okay. What? What the fuck?
"What the-what?" Megumi's words fall out of his mouth at the same speed he tries to connect them in his head. "How- you knew about Choso before I told you? You helped him? You purposefully didn't exorcise him? You-you orchestrated this?" he spits out in disbelief, physically recoiling away from Gojo.
"Because I knew something bad was on the horizon," Gojo tries to defend himself, tries to explain, but the ringing in Megumi's ears is almost too loud for him to even hear the words. "And I knew Choso wanted to keep Yuuji safe just as badly as you did. So, I managed to fuck around with the foster system a little, tiny bit and get Yuuji placed under Choso's care."
"Wait. Wait - something bad?" Megumi demands, because absolutely none of this is making sense to him.
Gojo's face falls slightly, hand landing softly on Megumi's shoulder before he murmurs, "You went and fell in love with the vessel of Sukuna Rykomen, kid."
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Megumi explodes, slapping Gojo away from him. "What the fuck is going on? Yuuji isn't-"
"I don't fully understand what he is yet, okay? I don't know how he was made. But he…he's a walking urn, Meg."
"How did you figure this out?" he demands.
"Me and Choso figured it out together. When you were knocked out cold on the ground. He was yapping on and on about his dead brothers that you'd killed. And I could tell with the Six Eyes that they weren't all dead, there was some Energy lingering that was definitely alive. It didn't take long for me to realise it was lingering to you."
"Yuuji," he breathes out, blinking down at his own trembling hands. He thinks he might throw up all over Ichiji's lovely new interior. Which will be a bitch in cleaning fees.
Yuuji.
"Yeah. They've got the same dad. Or mom in Yuuji's case. Fuck if I know, that shit isn't important right now. But Choso started tweaking out like crazy, talking about how his dad was an imposter or something. I don't know, he wasn't making a whole lot of sense, but I got the gist of it, I'm pretty sure."
"I don't even understand what you're talking about right now," Megumi cries out, heart thudding pitifully in his chest. And he never really understands what Gojo is talking about but this is seriously getting to him now. "Nothing you're saying is making sense!"
"Choso was working with a group of curses in order to get his brothers incarnated into real, corporeal bodies. The cruses he was working with want to reincarnate Sukuna."
"The King of Curses," Megumi chokes out.
"Yeah, that asshole. In turn, they need a vessel for him. Some kind of living corpse he can use to reincarnate himself."
"Don't talk about Yuuji like he's already dead," Megumi snaps, because he isn't. He isn't going to die. Megumi's going to save him. And then they'll figure this whole Sukuna thing out. And then Megumi will leave him alone for good, taking the entire world of Jujutsu with him out of Yuuji's life.
"Sorry. I didn't mean it like that," Gojo says easily, too easily, like he's already decided Yuuji's gone. "Choso realised that the boy the curses had prepared for Sukuna was the same boy I was picking up as his brother. Said that that meant the curse he was working for had to be Kamo Noritoshi."
"He's dead!" Megumi yells, because now Gojo has to be taking the piss. He's ready for the laugh now. Ready for Gojo to admit this is one big, crazy joke. He's been waiting for Gojo to say that for years now. For someone to please tell him this is all one big joke. "He's been dead for hundreds of years."
"Exactly," Gojo nods, like they are at all on the same page. "Some weird shit is going on here, Megs. I've got no idea who the curses Choso was working with are. They could be any number of dangerous individuals. This is what I'm trying to tell you. If we do this, we're not just going to try and save Itadori Yuuji, we're attempting to steal a potentially incredibly dangerous cursed object."
"Shut the fuck up!" Megumi yells. "Yuuji isn't an object, and he sure as hell isn't a curse! He's my goddamn boyfriend. He likes skating and Jennifer Lawrence and chocolate strawberries. And you have got to stop talking about him like he's already dead!"
There's a pause. And then, "In my defence, he might as well be."
"Get out of the car, Satoru!"
"I'm just trying to help you!" Gojo argues, and that just makes Megumi want to hysterically laugh. Only Gojo could spin lying to his student for almost a month into helping him. "All I do is try and fix things for you and you just cannot help but push me away, I don't get it!"
"Don't you see how this is doing the exact opposite? How this might be making the entire situation worse? My boyfriend has already been kidnapped by my insane, psychopathic family! And now you're trying to tell me that he's…what? Been a body for Sukuna to desecrate this entire time?"
Gojo opens his mouth to no doubt argue back, but is cut off by the sound of the garage door creaking open. "Tengen, you two are so fucking lame." Megumi squints at the sudden influx of bright light, before realising that Maki is the one speaking, the rest of the Tokyo students stood beside her, with most of the Kyoto kids behind them. Mai and Kamo are notably missing.
"Megumi, the Zenins are not your family," Maki snaps. "That moronic shit-for-brains asshole is your family."
"And obviously we're going to get your stupid little boyfriend back," Nobara cuts in, hands on her hips.
"Now," Maki claps her hands together. "We're not all going to fit in that car, so someone better work something out really fucking quickly before Megumi's boyfriend gets fed some pretty rancid fingers."
As everyone speaks around him, Megumi stays where he is. Tuning everything out except the slow thud of his own heartbeat, all he can think about is the look on Gojo's face when he had come home that night.
The night after he killed Geto Suguru.
It's the only time he's ever seen Gojo cry.
Watching from his bedroom door as his guardian fell to the floor, knees buckling. A man he had started to convince himself was untouchable. Invincible. Shuddering on the tiled floor, looking like a teenager with red eyes and a raw ache painted across his face.
Watching as Gojo silently sobbed, shoulders shaking and body wracked with moans of grief. Even as he went to Gojo, unsure of what to do so flinging his arms around his shoulders and squeezing him tight. Let the older man fall into his chest, burying his face into Megumi's pyjamas as his silent cries turned to howls.
They never spoke about it after that night.
And now it was happening again.
But this time it wasn't Gojo Satoru with his hands dripping with blood, and a hole torn through his chest. It was his son, Fushiguro Megumi, doomed by his name and his nature and his inherited foolish, doomed hope.
apt