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Megumi Fushiguro lost his soulmate at 15 years old, and he never had the courage to tell him. He had thought about it in those final moments; when Sukuna’s control had loosened and he was greeted with kind brown eyes instead of an overjoyed violence.
He could have said it while the cold rain was slicing through his broken bones like knives. He could have said it during one of the many nights sitting in companionable silence in the common room together, just the two of them. He could have said it when he first realized it-- when Itadori passed him at his old high school, ignorant to the way he immediately drew Megumi’s attention. He didn’t even realize his timer had stopped until he was changing in the hotel room Gojo had booked for him.
His timer was up on his collar bone. Dark and stiff and painfully boring just like the rest of him. At least it used to be. Now it reads 00:00:00 in a petal soft pink that looks suspiciously familiar in a fleeting glance. He had no intention of telling him. He couldn’t decide if it was a mercy or not to let him go on without knowing. It would be easier for him, for Itadori , to never know that he had any connection to Megumi’s world.
But then he ate Sukuna’s finger.
Megumi saw Itadori’s matching 00:00:00 spread across his inner bicep in the same font in a color black as night when Sukuna ripped his hoodie off. Gojo had subdued him and in a brazen moment of blind desperation, Megumi had requested that Gojo do what he could to save Itadori. Even with the barrier of Gojo’s blind fold and his own blood soaked uniform, he could feel Gojo’s eyes heavy on his collarbone. He couldn’t keep anything from him anyway. His suspicions of Gojo knowing were solidified when he placed Itadori right next door to his dorm on campus, and as they grew closer in training and time spent on off days, Megumi realized why the stars believed them to be made for each other.
Yuuji Itadori was everything that Megumi was not and also everything he wanted to be. He was kind, and selfless to a fault, and oh so joyous despite his circumstance. He was funny with contagious laughter, and an uncanny ability to spread that positivity with him everywhere he went. He made Megumi feel stronger. He made Megumi feel happier . But he had a timer on his life. He was to be executed once they found all of Sukuna’s fingers, and Megumi had not yet decided if he was willing to let himself experience that kind of affection knowing that his life would be extinguished presumably far before his own. He didn’t want to lose Itadori right after losing Tsumiki, but it wasn’t his decision to make. The only thing he could do was keep him at arm's length. Ensure that their relationship wouldn’t breach the threshold of friendship until Megumi was good and ready to deal with the inevitable heartbreak.
He thought he would have more time.
He knew at that moment, watching Itadori sputter blood out of his mouth and through the hole in his chest, that he was correct to not tell him. He was watching his best friend die in front of him, once again, endangered because Megumi wasn’t good enough to stop him. And knew with every fiber of his being he would have died right alongside him if he knew how it would have felt to be loved by Itadori.
He knew what happened when people lost their soul mates. He had seen it before. Dead dashes, white and irrevocable, faded along with the other pale white scars that covered his body. Sometimes, in the quiet hours of the night, he would lay his hand on his jagged collar bone and wish that Sukuna had beat him to death. He started bandaging his collarbone on Gojo’s recommendation after he had sobbed into his guardian’s arms. The white bandage was less painful to see somehow. He had never covered up his sole mark before so his immediate reaction was another injury. He didn’t look anymore. He showered and immediately slapped a new bandage on without so much as a passing glance. That’s how he thinks he’d missed it.
When the countdown started up again, he didn’t realize it. He didn’t notice when he was training for the exchange event. He didn’t notice when Kugisaki would come sleep in his room with him just to be reminded that she wasn’t alone just yet. He didn’t notice when Gojo wheeled a suspiciously large metal box between them and the students from Kyoto.
He did however notice when his heart felt like it was beating for the first time in months. He noticed when Yuuji stood, proud and beautiful and alive with some ridiculous joke falling from his lips. Megumi can’t hear what he’s saying. Itadori is glowing before him like a breath of fresh air to kick him into overdrive.
Itadori is saying something-- whining to Gojo about the dull reaction his return received. Megumi can’t even begin to guess what his face looks like. He does, however, know immediately that he won’t squander the second chance presented to him.