Chapter Text
It’s a crisply cool evening, yet Fushiguro Megumi can’t fall asleep. It’s not necessarily an issue of comfort; his bed is plenty comfortable — Gojo had at least gotten that right. There’s something about the atmosphere in his room though that makes it hard for his eyes to close. Megumi guesses its probably the after-effects of the Cursed Womb Incident: ever since that event, he’s felt like he had to be on his toes all the time, ready to fight at the slightest hint of malice.
Maybe that way, Itadori wouldn’t…
Megumi sighs, turning over in his bed. Anyway, at least Itadori is alive and with him and Kugisaki now. Megumi needs to get stronger so that if that kind of situation occurs again in the future, he can suppress the curse fast enough. He refuses to let Itadori die in front of him again.
Will he, though? A traitorous voice whispers.
Megumi turns over again, clutching his pillow as though it were the doubts in his head. The pillowcase rips, spewing an explosion of feathers in the process.
Oh great. He winces and spits out a feather. Blegh. Guess he’ll need another new pillow, and hopefully Gojo won’t tease him like before.
Megumi huffs. Actually, who is he kidding? This is Gojo Satoru he’s talking about; of course Gojo will tease him. Ugh.
He picks up the torn pillow and throws it into a trashcan, wincing at the offensive pillowcase image: a nauseatingly pink Barbie-themed cover that Gojo had “gifted” him with. Good riddance. Then, he leaves his room and heads for the storage closet, hoping he could steal an extra pillow without Gojo noticing. Either that or he could steal it from Kugisaki; that girl has way too many pillows for her own good.
Megumi is in the hallway when he hears an odd noise, almost like a dog whining in pain. He briefly debates whether he should investigate the noise or just head to the storage room already, but…
What if it was a dog?
He sighs, having come to a decision. He probably wasn’t going to sleep much even with the pillow, so he might as well entertain himself while he’s awake. Following the sound of the noise leads him down the narrow hallway, until finally, he reaches the source: Itadori’s room. Megumi opens Itadori’s door slightly, wincing at the loud creak as it moves. Knowing Itadori, that should have woken him up. Megumi takes a quick peek in the room, but frowns at what he finds. The odd whining noise is coming from Itadori, who lays asleep curled up on his bed, body twitching as though in pain.
Megumi furrows his eyebrows. Is Itadori okay? He knows that Itadori went through some sort of trauma before the Kyoto Sister Schools Goodwill event, but to think it was this impactful…
Itadori’s hands rise to his face, landing on the bridge of his nose. He lets out a low whimper that seems to contain all the sorrow in the world. Megumi flinches, immediately closing the door.
This is too personal for him to see. He hopes that Itadori overcomes his nightmare, but he isn’t sure if he’s willing to wake him up. Maybe he could tell Gojo about it? But Itadori is the type of person who would feel embarrassed by that though.
His frown deepens. What is he supposed to do now?
Megumi is caught in a moment of indecision, but indecision means he is currently staying at Itadori’s door and after he hears another whimper, he books it. The sound was just too pitiful for him to hear. Not even his sister made that kind of noise when she was distraught, so for Itadori, the happiest sorcerer he knew, to be that upset…
Megumi starts walking to the storage closet. He’s decided what he will do: first, he’ll get his pillow from the storage closet, and if Itadori still sounds in pain after, he’ll call Gojo.
He nods to himself, attempting to assuage his doubts. This is Itadori Yuuji he’s talking about; he’ll be fine by the time Megumi gets his pillow.
Fortunately, Megumi finds a pillow in the storage closet. After scrounging the laundry room, he finds a pillowcase in the washing machine — presumably Inumaki’s based on the meme frogs littering the cover. Whatever, Inumaki will live if he doesn’t have a pillowcase for some time.
The walk to Itadori’s dorm room is slow, arduous, and torturously tension-filled. The whimpering seems to have stopped, but Megumi doesn’t have any concrete proof of that until he gets to Itadori’s door. Once there, he opens the door slightly, this time avoiding the creaking noise. He takes a peek inside, and to his relief, Itadori has calmed down. While his body seems to tremble every few seconds, his eyes are not crunched up in pain and his hands do not cover his face as they did before, instead limply lying by his sides. His hands are clenched into fists though, but Megumi doesn’t think much of that; it’s a side-effect of becoming a Jujutsu Sorcerer. Itadori has always struck him as a “punch first, think later” person anyway.
Satisfied, Megumi closes the door and walks to his room, pillow clenched tightly in hand. He doesn’t know what he would’ve done if Itadori was still in pain. Sure, he could’ve called Gojo, but what good would that do? Gojo may be the strongest sorcerer, but even he can’t heal trauma. Megumi enters his room, flicking off the lights leisurely as he climbs into his bed. Whatever, there’s no use in wondering about things that didn’t happen. The only thing he can do now is get rest and then ask Itadori about it tomorrow.
With that thought, Megumi tries to sleep. He still tosses and turns, but after half an hour, he’s out like a light. His dreams are weird and woozy, or, as Kugisaki would have termed it, like an acid trip. The most striking part is when Itadori, covered in blood and heart in his hands, desperately wails at Megumi to rescue him.
“Save me,” the dream-Itadori sobs, and suddenly, the black tattoos on his face disappear. Itadori’s tear-struck face renders Megumi speechless. Dream-Itadori dons a familiar yellow hoodie, brown eyes shining in despair as he cries: “Why couldn’t you save me!?”
And as usual, Megumi has nothing to say. This nightmare is one he is intimately acquainted with.
“Why couldn’t you—“
Crash!
Megumi awakes with a startle, eyes wide open at the sound. Crash? Then…Itadori!
He scrambles out of bed, barely putting on his slippers as he exits the room and all but runs to Itadori’s dorm. He’s completely certain the crash sound came from Itadori’s room, so if anything happened to him…
Megumi would never be able to forgive himself.
He arrives at Itadori’s door and slams it open, ignoring the loud creaking sound in the process. “Itadori?” he yells, “Are you o…”
His voice trails off as he sees Itadori, who stands on a floor filled with broken mirror shards. Itadori’s hands are on his face, eyes wide open as he stares into a mirror shard. His breathing is rugged and cheeks flushed, as though he’d just finished running a marathon. The way his back is hunched over makes it seem like he’s been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“I don’t…” Itadori mutters to himself. “I don’t understand…I don’t…”
Then, he seems to have noticed Megumi's presence, because he makes direct eye-contact with him. Megumi nearly flinches; Itadori’s eyes are entirely different from what they were before. Now, there’s an oddly primal atmosphere to him, eyes a pinprick of black instead of the friendly brown hue it normally is.
Is this Sukuna? Megumi wonders deliriously. Sukuna’s eyes are normally red, but maybe he found a way to keep Itadori’s eye color? It would certainly explain this heavy atmosphere; Itadori would never be able to muster enough murderous energy to create this. Maybe it could be some sort of body-possession, a cursed technique perhaps?
Then, Itadori’s hands fall to his sides, and his mouth falls slack open. His pupils constrict, hands reaching out to touch him but retracting at the last moment. “How…” Itadori mumbles almost fanatically, “I thought…Megumi?”
“It’s Fushiguro,” Megumi answers automatically, then freezes. Crap, he didn’t mean to say that. He still doesn’t know if this is Itadori speaking or not.
Itadori stares at him, and then huffs a laugh that seems halfway between mirth and a sob. The laughter continues for a few seconds, and Megumi feels so distinctly unnerved by this that he wonders if he should start calling Gojo. Actually, that would probably be the best move in this situation. “Of course you would say that,” Itadori says, glee in his eyes. There’s an uncharacteristically bitter smile on his face. “You’re Fushiguro Megumi, of course you would ask to be called Fushiguro…”
Megumi discretely takes out his phone and starts texting Gojo behind his back. ‘Come 2 Itadori room ASAP’ is what he hopes he sent.
“Did you call Gojo-sensei?” Itadori asks, and Megumi startles. Shit, how did he know?
Itadori nods. “Good,” he says, and then starts muttering to himself, “that’s good. Gojo-sensei could definitely help me out, assuming he’s alive here…” Itadori frowns, and then makes eye-contact with Megumi again. Megumi continues spam-texting Gojo. Where the hell is he?
”Hey Me—Fushiguro,” Itadori says, in a nearly light-hearted tone that Megumi definitely does not trust. He flexes his fist. “Do you think you can feel pain in the afterlife?”
Megumi’s eyes widen and he steps backwards— oh what the hell — before Itadori throws up his hands in panic and tries to elaborate. “That came out wrong!” Itadori yells. “I didn’t mean it as a threat, I meant if you theoretically died—“
“Shut up, imposter!” Megumi yells back, moving away from the room. Itadori recoils in such a way that Megumi feels like he just kicked a puppy.
What the hell, Megumi thinks. Where the hell is Gojo!
“Megumi!” an annoyingly nauseating voice comes to his rescue. Megumi has never been more thankful for Gojo’s presence. Gojo steps in front of Megumi, back facing Itadori as he asks: “What happened here?”
“Something’s wrong with Itadori,” Megumi says, just barely keeping a tremble out of his voice.
Gojo’s smile drops, a light frown passing his face. “How exactly?” he asks, tone somewhat serious.
Gojo probably thinks there’s an issue with Sukuna, Megumi thinks. But I don’t really know what to tell him.
“Sen…sei?” Itadori whispers, his voice croaking. Gojo turns around and faces Itadori now, who stares at him in unadulterated shock.
”It’s me!” Gojo says, a smile on his face — but Megumi can tell it’s fake. “What’s the problem Yuuji?”
Unexpectedly, Itadori grabs the frame of his bed and raises his fist. Gojo’s eyes widen, “Yuuji don’t—“
Itadori hits the wooden bed frame, and it collapses into tiny splinters that make up a brown powder on the floor, similar to ash. Only the mattress lays intact, but even it has a long gash going down the middle.
“Hmm,” Itadori says, oblivious to the chaos he was causing, “that didn’t really make me feel pain though…maybe I should try the walls?”
”The walls!?” Megumi shouts. This is ridiculous now. “What are you doing?”
Itadori winces at the noise, but readies his fists to a wall regardless. Gojo steps in front of the wall, gently pushing Itadori’s fist away from the wall.
“Yuuji, care to explain the sudden renovation?” Gojo asks, playful smile on his face.
Megumi scowls. Sudden renovation? This is much more serious than that.
”Uh, Gojo-sensei,” Itadori says, unclenching his fist to scratch the back of his head, “you wouldn’t happen to know if this is the afterlife, would you?”
Gojo pushes up his blindfold, revealing his strikingly blue eyes. Gojo rarely shows Megumi his eyes — even Itadori is momentarily stunned.
“This isn’t the afterlife,” Gojo says, white eyelashes fluttering as he winks. “After all, I can’t die! I’m the strongest, Yuuji.”
Though Megumi’s heard Gojo say this a thousand times, it still reassures him. But for some reason, Itadori looks crestfallen at this statement. He frowns sadly, and his void-like eyes stare at Gojo as though they see past him.
“The strongest,” Itadori echoes, and then looks at the shard of glass in his hand.
He sighs, presumably having made a decision. “Gojo-sensei, could I talk to you?”
”Sure, Yuuji!” Gojo grins. Megumi admires his ability to not look unnerved right now.
“Alone, please?” Itadori says, looking nervously at Megumi.
Megumi is uncomfortable with the emotions on Itadori’s face when they make eye contact. It’s like Itadori couldn’t believe that Megumi was standing in front of him, which is just…
Odd.
”Sure!” Gojo says, seemingly unperturbed. “I’ll take you to my headquarters!”
Megumi nearly snorts. Itadori actually does. Headquarters, really? That’s just the glorified name for Gojo’s room.
“Thanks, Gojo-sensei!” Itadori says, relief transparent on his face. Megumi hates the way he says “Gojo-sensei” — almost as if he hasn’t spoken the word in ages when Megumi knows Itadori talked to him just a few hours ago.
“See you soon, Me—Fushiguro!” Itadori says as Gojo and him exit the dorm. Itadori’s eyes have relaxed now, and Megumi can see a better resemblance between this Itadori and his Itadori. But his Itadori didn’t have eyes that spoke of tragedy, his Itadori didn’t have a tired slump in his shoulders like he was on the verge of giving up, his Itadori didn’t stare at his friends like their presence was a foreign existence to him.
So Megumi nods as Itadori leaves, and internally hopes that whatever Itadori (or the not-Itadori) is going through gets resolved fast.
Gojo still hasn’t put his blindfold on. He makes eye contact with Megumi while walking behind Itadori, and Megumi can tell that Gojo is as bewildered as he is. And thats just great, he thinks sarcastically.
”Get some sleep, Megumi!” Gojo advises. “It’s 3AM — do you know how concerned I was when I saw you texting me this late?”
Gojo’s trying to break the tense atmosphere, Megumi notices. He breaks eye contact with Gojo, instead settling for staring at the floor. After a few seconds of silence, Gojo huffs. “Teens these days: so sassy, am I right Yuuji?”
Itadori nods faintly. He still looks in awe at Gojo; something Megumi does not feel like dissecting at the moment.
“‘Night,” Megumi says, waving them off as he heads back to bed. Screw this, he has better things to do than to worry about Itadori. He’ll worry in the morning. Though it is technically morning now so…
”’Night Megumi!” Itadori says, and if Megumi had worse senses, he would think it was actually his Itadori saying it.
Megumi enters his room and slams the door shut, then collapses onto his bed. He deserves get a good night's rest after whatever the heck that was.
Though technically it is the morning…
Although Megumi’s eyes close, his mind is wide awake. It seems like he won’t be able to get any sleep tonight.
a little odd: COVER PAGE
