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Fushiguro Megumi didn’t realize how much he loved Itadori Yuuji’s heart until he was forced to watch it stop beating, tossed into the grass as if it wasn’t the most precious thing in the world.
Megumi has never loved anyone. Well, that’s not entirely true, he loves - loved - his sister, but he never romantically loved anyone. He thinks he could have loved Yuuji, if he was given the time. Or maybe he already loved him. Maybe he had already fallen for the large smiles and the selflessness, maybe he had already fallen for the fearlessness and silliness, maybe he was already gone, hurdling himself off the edge the second that idiot smashed through the window to save him. But none of that mattered. It didn’t matter how much he loved or could have loved Yuuji, because no matter what, he still has to watch his heart slowly stop moving. He had to stand, feeling as though his own heart was torn from his chest, helpless. He had no time to mourn, no time to let the tears that prick his eyes fall, he can’t, not yet. He had to cling to hope, the slim chance that he could get Sukuna to heal Yuuji’s heart, to bring Yuuji back.
While Megumi is fighting Sukuna, he feels off. Every punch he throws feels off, like he can’t quite hold onto his rage, no matter how much he wants to. The flame in his stomach keeps flickering, like a candle in the breeze. He sees Sukuna, and that candle grows and he throws his all into killing the bastard, but then, right when he’s about to hit, he sees Yuuji underneath Sukuna’s harsh smile and that candle flickers. He can’t look at Sukuna and not think of Yuuji’s excited smile or his soft eyes. And Megumi would rather die than hurt Yuuji. It causes him to hesitate, and his hesitation will probably kill them both.
It only kills one of them though.
Megumi is ready. He understands the consequences of summoning Mahoraga, if anyone else knew what he was about to do, they would yell at him, call him an idiot, tell him he was about to kill himself. They would be right too, but right now, Megumi doesn’t care. No, because this is Yuuji , nothing else matters, not Megumi, not Mahoraga, not Sukuna, fucking nothing, because Megumi doesn’t care. All he fucking cares about is Yuuji, Yuuji and his fucking smile and his laugh and his positivity and his strength. If anyone deserves to live, it’s Itadori fucking Yuuji.
But Megumi doesn’t get to make that choice, no, Yuuji, that selfless bastard, beats him to it. Yuuji sees what he is about to do, and Yuuji saves Megumi one final time. He switches back, knowing he’s going to die, and Megumi’s heart feels like it’s being ripped out again. No, I can’t lose you too . But Megumi doesn’t get a choice, but he does get these last few seconds with him, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t use them. He didn’t get the chance with his sister, and he is not going to make that mistake again.
“Just so you know, I don’t have any logical reason for saving you back then. I did have my reservations, but ultimately, it was for selfish, emotional reasons. But I never once regretted saving you, Itadori.” As Megumi speaks to the dying Yuuji, he refuses to break, refuses to let the last thing Yuuji sees be him blubbering and crying. So Megumi holds back his tears and smiles.
The markings fade and Sukuna’s harsh smile is replaced with Yuuji’s soft one. At least I get to see him smile one last time. “Live a long life, Fushiguro.” As Yuuji falls, his eyes are closed and his soft, beautiful smile is on his face. Megumi rushes forward, sliding across the wet concrete, and catches the pink-haired boy in his arms just before he hits the ground. Megumi looks at him, and if he ignores everything that happened, he might look like he was sleeping, peacefully resting in the arms of his love, and maybe, in some ways, he is. Maybe, in some cruel, unfair way, Yuuji finally gets to rest. Megumi allows himself to be soaked, but he refuses to let himself cry, no, if he cries, the others will see, and that will make it worse. So he sits with him in his arms, allowing Yuuji’s blood to be washed away by the rain, the substance swirling around them, painting the concrete. He softly bushes the pink matted hair out of his eyes. Yuuji did always hate it when it did that.
After a few minutes, Megumi knows he can’t put this off any longer. He hefts Yuuji’s body up, one arm underneath the boy’s legs, the other around his back. Megumi always considered himself to be strong, capable, but as he walks, Yuuji feels so heavy in his arms, but then again maybe that has nothing to do with how strong Megumi is. Yuuji’s head lulls, resting on Megumi’s chest. Megumi keeps his head forward, trying to keep his mind on the alternative. Trying, desperately, to not think of a different universe where Yuuji fell asleep on the couch while they watched a movie. Another universe where Megumi would carry him back to his dorm, just like this. Another universe where Megumi would softly lay Yuuji down in his dorm bed, kiss him on the forehead and then leave to go to bed himself. He refuses to let himself think that, because he doesn’t live in that world, no matter how much he would like to.
Ijichi and Nobara greet him at the car, worried faces shifting to ones of sadness, one of dread. Ijichi tries to take Yuuji from him, but Megumi won’t let him. He doesn’t know why he’s being so possessive, he has no right, but he thinks if he lets go of Yuuji, he might finally break. Rain pings against the windshield as they drive, Yuuji draped across Nobara and his lap. No one speaks, the radio isn’t turned on, they drive in silence. Nobara doesn’t cry, and so neither does Megumi.
The rest of the day passes in a blur, the second Yuuji is taken out of Megumi’s arms, nothing else seems to matter. He doesn’t pay attention to anything else, he can’t afford to. He’s on autopilot, he couldn’t tell you what happens if he tried. He finally snaps out of it when he’s walking to his dorm to go to sleep that night, and he sees something. Down the hall, a mere few steps from his room, he sees that Yuuji left his dorm light on, and his door open.
Megumi’s hand tightly grasps his doorknob, but he doesn’t move, he can’t move. He should just go to bed, he knows he should go to bed, but he can’t stop himself. He lets go of his doorknob, and he steps toward Yuuji’s room. You have no right , his brain screams. The hallway is dark and quiet. It’s weird, Yuuji didn’t live next to him for long, but he almost got used to Yuuji being there. He was always playing music, always talking. His door was always open, letting Megumi know that, if he wanted, he could have come over. You have no right to mourn him like you knew him . The hallway feels so long, like every step only takes him further away. You have no right when you could have stayed. You could have fought. Maybe if this was a different night, things could have been different. You have no right when you’re the reason he got dragged into this bullshit world. It could have been different. Megumi could have been coming over to do homework while Yuuji caught up on manga. Yuuji would have smiled when he opened the door and patted the spot next to him on the bed. They would have sat and laughed and just been together. It would have been enough. You have no right when he died for you .
Megumi opens the door and steps inside. He’s not sure what he expected. There’s no Yuuji smiling, no manga, no laughter, no playful shoving, it doesn’t feel alive. But it doesn’t feel like it’s dead either. This room should reflect the person it is missing, like in movies where it’s dark and the furniture is dust-covered. Like when you walked into the room, you can tell an important piece is missing. But it doesn’t feel like that. The room’s lamp was left on and the bed is still unmade but clearly slept in, a pair of pyjamas thrown on top of the messy covers. Clothes litter the floor and books and papers spill across the desk, open and half-finished, as if Yuuji was procrastinating and waiting until right before class started to finish, a class he would never go to, an assignment he would never turn in. On the desk chair, haphazardly thrown across the back, is Yuuji’s yellow hoodie. Before he can think better of it, Megumi grabs the hoodie, turns off the lamp and closes the door. It’s not like he’s here to miss it anyway, Megumi thinks as he clutches the fabric.
Back in his own dorm, Megumi realizes how empty his room feels. It’s dark and quiet, there are no posters or pictures, it doesn't feel alive, not like Yuuji’s did. But then again, Yuuji’s dorm didn’t feel alive just now, so maybe it had nothing to do with the room itself or the decorations, but the person who resided inside it. The person with bright eyes and wide smiles and laughter that lit up every room. Megumi sat on the edge of his bed and stared at the hoodie in his lap, thumb brushing over the aglets, edges fraying from being played with. Megumi gets ready for bed, staring at the hoodie the whole time. Right before he lies down, he grabs the hoodie, zips it up, and puts the hood on.
The second his head hits the pillow, Megumi finally, finally, lets himself cry. Megumi cries for the boy who has no one left to cry for him. He cries for what could have been, for the years of battle bonded friendship, lost like blood washed away in the rain. He cries for the love, or almost love, he lost in an instant, all because he was a coward, all because he wasn’t strong enough. He cries for the loss of loud laughter and sparkling eyes and playful smiles. He cries for himself because he was there and he could have done something, he should have done something. He cries for the reality that awaits him. He cries for his own death, he cries for Yuuji’s death, he cries for Nobara’s death. He cries for Maki, and Panda, and Inumaki. Fuck, he even cries for Gojo. He cries for the years lost, he cries for short lifespans and broken bones. He cries for the boy who didn’t ask to be dragged into this world, who stumbled upon it like a child does a new toy. He cries for the weight of a life lost that now rests on his shoulders. He cries because a world where Yuuji, a beautiful, amazing, kind boy who was dealt an awful hand doesn’t get to keep living is a world that doesn’t make sense. He cries because he delt Yuuji that fucking hand. He cries for the fear and pain he felt as he smashed through buildings and trees and cement. He cries because he felt so fucking useless, even as he fought with everything he had, it still wasn’t enough. He cries because the one time Yuuji needed him to save him, he failed and Yuuji had to pay the price. He cries and cries and cries. He cries because the world is cruel and unfair and what else can he do?
He cries until he drifts off, dreaming of smiles and blood and pink hair and the words “Live a long life”, unsure if it’s a promise he’ll be able to keep, or even wants to.