Chapter Text
Megumi is born screaming.
---
There's blood in Megumi’s mouth. His skull has been cracked open from the impact of being thrown into concrete. There is enough time for someone to save him. To stop the blood loss and rush him to a hospital. Megumi could live.
There are not enough people to find him. No one can find his crippled body in the ruins. His broken fingers cannot twist themselves into shadows to summon his shikigami. He cannot save himself. He cannot save his sister.
Gojo is busy. He can’t hear Megumi desperately call out to him. He can’t take Megumi far from here and wrap him in a blanket like when he was small. Can’t give him back his warmth or love.
His cursed energy gathers in his useless hands. He can hear the distant sounds of Mahoraga, which will sooner kill him than show any mercy to its summoner. His cursed energy pulses in time with his heartbeat, and all Megumi can do is hold it in his hands.
He reaches his left hand for Nobara, his right for Yuji.
Megumi dies young, cold and alone, as he always expected he would. He is lost on a street in Shibuya, blending in with the other bodies and splattered remains across the city.
---
In a subway tunnel, below the surface and far from the sun she was raised under, Nobara smiles at Yuji as she burns with the knowledge that she cannot stop her death.
Her belt is nearing empty with nails. Her head throbs with a concussion. Her freckles have faded from her skin with lack of sunlight, and she will die not under a radiant sun or with farm soil beneath her palms, but in a sterile and harsh subway tunnel without the whisper of leaves in her ear.
She smiles at Yuji, because it is not his fault, and he cannot stop this, and he must know that he is loved.
Nobara’s eye explodes, traveling from her cheekbone into the back of her brain, and she is dead before she hits the floor.
---
Yuji is only a ghost. His heart traitorously continues to beat despite this.
He did not find Megumi’s body among the rubble, but he is not foolish enough to think that this means he survived. If Megumi was breathing he would have sent out one of his dogs to find Yuji and bring him back. There have not been any dogs, or rabbits, or hawks.
Okkotsu Yuta returns to Japan and is sent to kill him. Yuji finds himself with his back pressed against asphalt, the blade of Okkostu’s sword halted between his palms, and no desire to live.
His hands slip, slightly. Okkostu’s face transforms into panic and apology. The blade pierces into his chest, following the scar that Sukuna left behind when he tore out his heart. Yuji could heal from this. He’s done it before, and it is imperative that Sukana heals him for his own survival. Yuji, however, has always been stubborn by virtue, and he is an expert in denying Sukana what he wants.
Nobara and Megumi died hours apart from each other, and that chasm of distance between Yuji and them grows by the day.
Yuji’s final breath is a sigh. The parts of his heart that matter never left Shibuya.
---
Megumi is born screaming.
His lungs expand with air and he lets out a wail unlike any he’s ever let out before. His arms flail, his legs kick. He is moved from careful hand to careful hand.
He opens his eyes, and instead of Shibuya, or Yuji, or Nobara, or Gojo, he sees green eyes that match his own staring back down at him. Those eyes belong to an unfamiliar woman, who’s been gone long enough that Megumi could not remember her face, but he knows exactly who she is.
“Megumi-chan,” his mother coos, cradling his enfant body to her chest.
---
There is not much to do as a baby. He blinks. He spits up. He eats. He pukes. He burps. The highlight of his day is when his mother presses a kiss to his forehead and he soaks up the attention and love, because he knows it will be gone soon.
He is a quiet infant. His mother boasts to her friends about how easy he is. No colic or unnecessary crying.
Megumi is distracted and tormented. A fifteen year old mind is not meant to fit in the head of a baby. He spends his waking moments confused, discovering new things about the world with every moment, and also being horribly bored.
He is surrounded by his mother’s unwavering affection and horribly lonely. He wants Gojo, his annoying bright smile promising protection. His ridiculously large hands cradling him like he’s precious. His laugh filling Megumi up from the inside with warmth, thawing out his cold and brittle edges.
Megumi wants Yuji’s unwavering passion and heart. Nobara’s steady strength and humor. He misses them with every cell in his tiny body. He feels as though a part of his heart is missing from his chest.
The only thing Megumi can consistently do is sleep. He is growing quickly, as all babies do, and sleeps often.
He does not dream.
He sees.
---
It’s terrifying. It’s thrilling. It’s all consuming.
Time pulls Megumi under and spits him out. He is tugged in every direction. Caught in every riptide. His head breaches the surface long enough to catch glimpses.
Maki swinging her staff, Yuta ducking with a cringe.
Splash.
Yaga felting together a younger Panda, pouring in cursed energy and love to create a life.
Splash.
Two girls he does not know, hands wrapped around the bars of a cage, trembling and terrified, looking up, up, up at-
Splash.
---
Toji is alive again.
In his first life, Megumi was old enough to remember his father before he left. He was casually unempathetic, and often absent. He did not tell Megumi what his job was, but Megumi could figure out for himself it wasn’t kind.
Megumi toddles up to him. His knees don’t buckle, which is quite impressive for his age. He’s potty training quickly, speaking short sentences, exploring his environment faster than his mother can babyproof it.
Toji looks up at him and offers him a lazy grin that shows no teeth. His callused hands still on the gun and rag in his hand. “What do you want, little man?”
“Hungry.”
Toji hums, and to his credit, goes to the kitchen to find him something.
Megumi stares at the polished gun in front of him. The barrel is the length of his arm, and the bullets in the cardboard box next to it are a finger each. His chubby hands grasp the edge of the table, helping him balance.
Toji comes back and gives him a plastic bowl of Cheerios. Satisfied, Megumi sits down right where he stands and enjoys his snack. He watches his father clean the gun, then pull out another and another to continue his task. He lays them side by side across the coffee table, and Megumi rolls Cheerios between his fingers to keep his curious hands from reaching out.
---
Megumi can’t catch his breath. The current drags him this way and that. His left hand is pulled in one direction. The right hand pulled in another.
A girl with black hair and blue eyes smiles.
Splash.
She wears a school uniform, her hair pulled back in a braid.
Splash.
She reaches out her hand, relieved, and her head snaps to the side with a shower of blood.
Splash.
---
Eventually, just like the first time, Megumi’s mother grows tired.
She drags herself out of bed for the first time in days. She goes to the neighbours garden and picks flowers for a jar on the windowsill. She makes miso for breakfast which Megumi dutifully slurps. She presses a kiss to his forehead, tells him she loves him, and walks out the door to go throw herself off a bridge.
Her absence makes Toji mean in a way he was unlike before. Megumi has his mother’s eyes, and the remains of her haunt Toji. Megumi makes himself scarce from his sight and survives off of Cheerios in the cupboard and the leftovers Toji leaves behind on dishes next to the sink.
Toji remarries before the season turns. Out goes Megumi’s mothers clothes and jewelry and post-it notes, in comes Tsumiki and her mother.
Tsumiki, older than Megumi by a few years but much younger than when Megumi had last seen her, gives him a hug upon meeting.
“We’re going to be a family, little brother!” she squeals.
Megumi wipes away his tears away as fast as he can, and promises that this time it will be better.
---
Toji and Tsumiki’s mother are arguing. It is the usual trend of the day.
Megumi thinks it's probably cruel of him, but he prefers it when Toji is yelling at her. It means he’s not yelling at Megumi, and Megumi sports less bruises.
Toji’s gun is on the table again. He always leaves it out, and Tsumiki’s mom yells at him about it, and he yells back, and the gun is forgotten all together.
Megumi picks it up. He shouldn’t. He’s three. But he’s also fifteen and tormented by visions and angry.
In his three year old body, he doesn’t have the levels of cursed energy he is used to. He couldn't summon his divine dogs until he was seven, but he lacked guidance. This Megumi has a decade of Gojo’s training and advice under his belt, and he doesn’t waste it.
Fail, he implores.
Intention matters. Cursed energy is alive. It’s a roiling, angry beast that bites. It comes from the negative emotions of humans and makes curses and hurts the humans and makes new negative emotions. It’s a fucked up circle of life. With his Six Eyes, Gojo knows cured energy better than anyone. And he says it's alive. Therefore, it is.
When Gojo takes a blade and puts his own cured energy in the steel for Maki to use, he puts his intention into strength. Cured energy is born from emotion. It can feel. And Megumi can ask.
Fail, he begs, hands clasped around the gun and his little cured energy flowing into the metal, filling its grooves and soaking in like a sponge.
There’s a slap in the other room. Tsumiki’s mother stops yelling. Toji doesn’t.
Fail, fail, fail.
---
Megumi is drowning again. He always drowns in his sleep. The sea is relentless.
An old man reading the morning paper.
Splash.
Maki leading Mai by the hand past a floating curse.
Splash.
The girl with the braid throws her head back and laughs with her whole chest.
Splash.
Something tugs on Megumi’s left hand. His pinkie. He tugs back, and this time, something comes back. His fingertips make contact with something solid. He grabs on. It’s another hand. It is not soft; it’s calloused and strong. Megumi recognises these callouses like he would his own soul.
Nobara.
Nobara holds on. Their fingers intertwine, and neither of them let go.
---
Tsumiki cries often. Her tears are fascinatingly silent. They trace down her cheeks until she can wipe them away with her sleeves. Her lip wobbles and her shoulders shake, but barely any noise comes out of her.
Maybe it's fear. A survival instinct she’s developed to not draw attention to herself when she can hear the yelling in the genkan.
Megumi doesn’t cry. He’s not sure he can. He skins his knees on pavement and cuts his fingertips on paper, and he doesn’t sniffle. He thinks he lost the ability years ago. Before he lost his mother a second time, before he drew first breath in a new life.
When Yuji died, but not really, Megumi watched him hold his bloody heart in his hand and could only think ‘that’s mine too’. Megumi knows something of him died that day with Yuji. Something irreplaceable and innocent.
After, in the darkness of his room, he knelt on the floor and sobbed so hard he thought he might just die like Yuji. Stars danced across his vision and his lungs could not expand.
Nobara did not know Yuji as long, or as well, but she entered his room silently and hooked her chin over his shoulder and shook with him.
They woke up on his floor in a tangle of limbs, sore and exhausted and empty.
Yuji might have come back, but Megumi could see that he lost the same part of himself Nobara and him had.
Megumi does not cry, but Tsumiki does. So he lays in the futon with her and she shudders and whimpers when they hear a door slam and glass breaking.
---
Megumi cannot see Nobara. But he can feel her. He can find her now too. He thinks she’s finding him too.
He’s in the water.
A cat stalking between buildings.
Splash.
Megumi pulls with his left hand. There’s nothing physical to pull on, but he knows he’s pulling on something. He thinks he can feel Nobara pull right back.
Nobara comes, because she always does.
The city lights of Tokyo, bustling and shining and loud.
Megumi wonders, for a moment, and tries. He pulls with his right hand. A tug answers his call.
Their pinkies touch first, and Megumi’s world lights up in colours he didn’t know he was missing. The thrill travels down his spine and sinks into his heart.
An aquarium, glistening blue light reflecting off the face of the girl with the braid.
Yuji interlaces their fingers.
Megumi holds onto both of them. He thinks they’re holding onto each other too. None of them can see each other, but they know.
---
Megumi never knows then it will be the last time he sees his father, but he knows it is coming. Sometimes, Toji leaves without a sound, sometimes with the bang of the door following behind him. Sooner or later, though, Megumi finds him back on the couch polishing the gun.
Then a week turns into two. Two turns into a month. A month turns into three.
Fushiguro Toji is not coming home.
Tsumiki does not cry as often. She does not crawl into his futon every night to comfort herself with the presence of the one person she knows loves her unconditionally. She smiles more. Her laugh spreads through the apartment and chases away the lingering cruelty Toji left behind.
When it becomes abundantly clear Toji will not be returning, Tsumiki’s mother feels free. She is not under that man’s hateful stare or harsh blows. She loses her final shackle as she packs a suitcase and leaves with a goodbye in the form of cash on the counter and nothing else.
Tsumiki begins to cry again. Megumi tries to be a good brother, but he is horribly awkward at the best of times, and when he clumsily braids her hair back like her mother used to, Tsumiki only cries harder.
---
Megumi, Nobara, and Yuji drown together. Night after night the riptide pulls them under and they clutch onto their only lifelines.
Somehow, even though he can’t see them, it makes Megumi feel a little less lonely.
---
The thing about being four years old is that Megumi is supposed to be stupid. He’s not stupid, which is a bit of a problem. He can read perfectly, because he is fifteen. He can count to one hundred and do more than just basic math because he is fifteen. He knows about world history and geography because he is fifteen.
He is also four. He does not want to get clocked as a protege or genius because that will bring attention to himself, and result in the daycare workers calling his parents to share the wonderful news.
So Megumi is supposed to be stupid. The problem is that it’s sometimes hard to remember that he is supposed to be stupid. He’s been reading for years, and doing basic math in his head, and has had class discussions about world news. He is educated, because despite his lengthy list of previous schools, Gojo was also a teacher. When he was ten and didn’t understand any of the math problems, Gojo found him sitting at the kitchen counter blinking back frustrated tears. Despite only intending for this to be a brief visit, Gojo sat with him and walked him through each problem for over an hour. Megumi never lacked in intelligence, and Gojo made sure both him and Tsumiki were supported in their education.
So Megumi is horribly bored during circle time at the daycare, the caretaker asking what sound this animal makes and the whole room letting out exaggerated and high pitched barks.
Daycare isn’t constantly boring, at least. Megumi enjoys recess. He doesn’t really have any close friends, but four is an age where everyone is everyone’s friend, so he’s not lacking either.
He laughs while he chases the other kids playing tag. He wants to participate in all the group games. His hands reach to discover new textures everywhere he goes, from grassy moss to fluffy cats and dogs. He giggles when an ant crawls on his leg. He gives the appropriate ‘wow’ when a butterfly lands next to him before he even thinks about it.
Megumi is both four and fifteen. This statement is both contradictory and true. Sometimes, usually when he is alone but always in his sleep, he is fifteen. Sometimes, when he’s laughing with other children or sitting with Tsumiki for dinner and telling her about his day, he is four.
---
Something changes. He’s not sure what. He’s not sure if it’s him. But something is different.
A darkened subway tunnel.
Splash.
A train speeding past on the tracks, rhythmic noise choo choo-ing along.
Splash.
A basketball bouncing off the ground, returning to the hand of-
Splash.
The riptide has changed. It changes constantly, as it continues to pull them under and drown them, but something is different. Instead of fighting the current, or letting it ruthlessly drag him along while he makes no attempt to fight at all, Megumi kicks his feet and swims with it.
They are soaring. They are propelling through the water like a jet plane. They are together and holding on.
Megumi, suddenly, can see without the dizzying glimpse of time or the tumultuous water. He chokes on air when he realizes that he is standing on the steps of Jujutsu High. Next to him, he hears a similar sound, and he turns and-
Oh.
Nobara and Yuji stare back at him, and something settles in his soul that he didn’t realise was restless, and something else stirs that he hasn’t felt since his previous life.
Nobara and Yuji are alive and staring back at him, wearing Jujutsu High uniforms. Nobara does not have the scar on her hairline that only Megumi and Yuji can notice, because they were there when the curse put it there. Yuji does not have Sukana’s marks under his eyes. Nobara looks as she did when she stepped off the train out of her hometown. Yuji looks like the boy that ran past Megumi oh so long ago, before he ate the finger and Megumi had to watch someone so full of life know he was now living on borrowed time.
“Megumi,” Yuji whispers, quiet and fragile. His face looks younger than Megumi has ever seen it, even though he has seen it. “Nobara?”
Nobara, in a rare display of genuine and desperate affection, throws her arms around them both. Megumi can feel her shaking chest against his, breathing and alive. Her perfume fills his nose, because cursed energy as a rule smells rotten and she refuses to have terrible body odor. Her excessive use of it used to piss him off, because he felt like he was choking on a mouthful of potpourri, but now he’d be hard pressed to think of a more comforting scent than roses.
Yuji’s arms are massive and strong, and he pulls them both into his chest and keeps them there until they can all breathe without worrying that they’ll disappear if they blink.
“You’re alive,” Yuji says, and there’s something else in his tone that tells Megumi that he’s missed something important. His hand comes up, and he cradles Nobara’s face, thumb sweeping under her eye.
Nobara smiles, “It would take more than that to keep me down.”
Yuji huffs a wet laugh, and pulls her back into her chest to press a kiss to the top of her head.
Eventually, they find themselves sitting on the steps of the school. Nobara sits sideways, her legs spread out in front of her on a single step so she can see both of them. Megumi above, Yuji below.
“So, what the hell are these things?” Yuji says.
“Unmei no Akai Ito,” Nobara says, her words feeling both old and practiced. She probably knows this story from the elders in her village, told to her over and over again until she can recite it by heart. The Red String of Fate.
Nobara holds up her left hand, and wrapped around her pinkie is a red thread. It flows and floats in the air, shrinking and expanding to accommodate the distance between her and Yuji, whose right pinkie is tied to the other end.
Megumi looks at his own hands. His right pinkie leads to Yuji, his left to Nobara. The threads do not tangle with each other no matter how he moves his arms. He can tell from a single glance that the string is mystical. It does not feel like cotton or silk in his hands, but like running water slipping between his fingers.
“This is how we keep finding each other,” Megumi says.
Yuji nods, “I couldn’t see you guys, but- I knew it was you guys. When I grabbed onto you.”
Megumi and Nobara don’t say anything to that, because they don’t need to. It’s true. They had seven months together before Shibuya, and it was both too short and decades long.
“We’re all back in the past then, right?” Megumi broaches.
“Cause we all died, didn’t we?” Nobara says, bluntly.
Unconsciously, their eyes turn to Yuji. Megumi knew that the first to go was himself, he could feel it, and he gathered that Nobara was next from the look on Yuji’s face a few minutes ago. Yuji would have been last.
He nods, not looking at either of them. He doesn’t explain, and Megumi doesn’t ask. Megumi doesn’t want to talk about his own death, after all.
Megumi pulls on his string connecting him to Yuji. He watches his string tighten gently and send a little pull towards Yuji. He hopes it’s comforting.
Yuji glances up at least, to give a smile dimmer than he is used to, but Megumi will take it. He is overwhelmingly relieved to not be stuck in the past alone.
---
Four is truly an important age. Megumi has been looking forward to this since he came back to the past, because this is the age he meets Gojo.
Finding and speaking to Yuji and Nobara ignites a spark in Megumi he lacked before. Since his death, Megumi has been drifting through life without any particular enjoyment, plan, or purpose. He’s been dull and grey, and Tsumiki helped more than she will ever understand, but Yuji and Nobara are different. They understand. Who else would understand what it’s like to arrive back in the past after a horrific death.
When Megumi died, Gojo couldn’t save him. He was in the Prison Realm, where he stayed until Yuji died and all three of them found themselves breathing once more. But there is a Gojo Satoru out and about, wild and free, and Megumi is about to meet him.
He knows the date. He knows the time. He knows the route. Despite him being four years old when this occurred in the original timeline, this day is seared into his memory because it changed him.
Megumi wakes up that day more excited than he ever has before. It is an unusually warm day for fall, and Megumi is so excited he nearly leaves his coat behind.
“Why are you so excited?” Tsumiki smiles, his infectious energy rubbing off on her.
Megumi shrugs, “I dunno. I think it’s gonna be a good day.”
Tsumiki seems to take this to heart, and they play tag and chase each other until their paths diverge to their respective schooling and caretaking.
The caretakers are overjoyed to see all of Megumi’s enthusiasm. He is usually a more sullen and quiet child. While he enjoys the group games, he struggles to talk to his peers and try to connect. Megumi can sometimes hear the caretakers whisper about him in concern, about how his poor mother’s death must still be affecting him, the poor dear.
Today, he is nearly bouncing off the walls with energy. He runs around the playground until they have to pull him off the monkey bars and he grins during circle time. He heels younger than he ever has.
Finally, it’s the walk home and Megumi could cry with how excited he is. He is four years old and this is more exciting than Christmas or New Years or his birthday.
He tries to walk the same pace he did back then, in his first life. He had dragged his feet and kicked pebbles down the path to amuse himself. Anticipation guides his feet faster than he meant to, and soon he’s standing on the street.
He can see their apartment window and golden hour has just begun as the sun begins its descent. He slows his pace, counts his breaths, and makes his way down the street while desperately fighting off a giddy smile and savoring the moment because this is the moment.
Except-
Megumi’s feet stop. He’s at the end of his route. Any other day, he would turn and make his way inside and up to Tsumiki. Except today is not any other day. Today is the day he meets Gojo Satoru.
Megumi must be too early. He was excited, and he walked too quickly.
Megumi stands there, still as a statue. The sun continues to fall. Tsumiki pokes her head out the window to call him inside.
He cannot move. Any minute now, Gojo will appear. Megumi can’t miss it.
It is dark when Tsumiki decides she’s had enough and comes down to get him herself. She opens the door and looks at him with concern when she finds her little brother standing like a statue a few feet from their doorstep. He hasn’t moved in hours.
“Are you okay?”
“Hmm?”
“You’re crying.” Megumi feels tears on his cheeks. He has not cried since the day he was born.
“It was a bad day.”
Gojo was supposed to come today.
He didn’t.
---
They learn to pull on their strings. To let them guide them to each other. They learn to follow the current instead of being dragged along, and they wash ashore together.
After the first time, they find themselves in a restaurant they used to frequent. Yuji complains about it because he can smell the milkshakes but he can’t eat them.
The next, they arrive on a beach none of them have seen before. They walk along the shore until they reach a town, and notice the clothes are foreign and old. They cannot interact with the physical world or the people, but Yuji says the locals are speaking English and discussing the War. The name Hitler comes up and they all collectively think “what the fuck?”
They go to shopping centers in Dubai. Roller rinks in America. Markets filled with people wearing bedsheets that they deduce must be Ancient Greece or Rome.
Most often, they are in Japan. And most often, they do not stray too far from their time period. They theorize that it is their own connection to the present world that pulls them close to home. It can’t stop the unpredictability of time though.
Nobara is perhaps the most thrilled by being adrift in foreign lands. After escaping her small town in her first life, and returning in her second, she finds herself desperate for adventure.
“I miss Tokyo,” she complains, her feet slapping against cobblestone paths in… Scotland maybe?
“I do too,” Megumi agrees.
“Same,” Yuji nods, “Man, this is a lot of fog.”
They can’t see more than ten meters ahead in any direction. It’s almost unbearably humid and moist, and Megumi can smell the unpolluted air of the past filled with moss and morning dew.
“This place is so boring!” Nobara cries, her old dramatics shining through.
Megumi smiles, and is grateful for the distraction.
Yuji trips over the uneven cobblestone. Nobara laughs and laughs, and so does Megumi, and Yuji laughs too. They exist in this small moment in time without any worries or futures pressing down on them.
---
Megumi does not understand where Gojo is.
Fushiguro Toji would never allow himself to be killed by anyone less than the Six Eyes himself. Gojo may have never told him that he killed his father, but Megumi can put two and two together.
Jujutsu society is built on rigid rules and traditions and morally grey areas. The Clans want to be stronger than the others. They arrange marriages and partnerships with the most likelihood of producing an heir to one of their coveted techniques.
Clans send assassins after the others, and pretend to be free agents once they're caught. Children get caught in the crossfire in their quest for power. The Inumaki Clan was hunted to near extinction for their cursed speech, the only survivor protected at Jujutsu High until he graduates and must protect himself.
One of those powerful children taken would not be allowed without retaliation. Megumi wields the Ten Shadows Technique, which at its strongest has been said to rival the Six Eyes. The Zenin Clan would never let Megumi out of their grasp without a fight. Ten Shadows is the sort of thing Clans would start wars over.
Yet Megumi ended up under the protection and tutelage of Gojo Satoru, head of the Gojo Clan. Gojo would have had to enact the Rite of Conquest. Megumi is the golden goose Toji planned to sell to the Zenin Clan. The Zenin Clan would have come to collect without Toji in the picture. Yet they couldn't, because Gojo won Megumi when he killed his father.
Gojo never told him, and perhaps hoped he didn’t have a clue. Megumi didn’t particularly care. Well, no, Megumi was glad. Toji was mean and cruel. Gojo could be both of those things too, but not to Megumi or Tsumiki. Gojo took care of them the best he could, especially since it would have been easier to let him fall into the Zenin Clan’s control. But he went to the parent teacher conferences and signed the permission slips and bought them exactly what they wanted for their birthday. Gojo didn’t have too, but he did.
Megumi misses him terribly.
Megumi doesn’t know where he is.
He kicks a rock and watches it clatter down the street. The street. Stupid Gojo still finds a way to piss him off, and he’s not even here.
Where the fuck is he?
---
Megumi cries sometimes, in his sleep, when Yuji and Nobara pull him out of the current and onto whatever piece of time they land on. Yuji will pull him into a hug and rub his back, because he is kinder than anything Megumi deserves. Nobara will mutter furiously and curse out Gojo-sensei because she does not have the same empathy as Yuji does, but she does care.
Everyday is another disappointment because Gojo did not come. Megumi tries to be patient, because that's all he can do, but it hurts.
---
Gojo is taking too long. That’s a fact that Megumi can't ignore. In his first life, Megumi met him when he was four and Gojo was seventeen. But the season turns, Megumi is five now, and without a Gojo Satoru in sight and no parent to send the check to the electricity company, Tsumiki and Megumi are at a very high risk of freezing to death.
Tsumiki's teeth chatter, and Megumi can’t stand it. He crawls out from underneath the blankets they share on top of the futon to preserve as much heat as possible. Tsumiki reaches out to pull him back into the nest, but he wriggles away determinedly.
“I’m going to try something,” he says.
Slowly, he sucks in air through his mouth and blows it out through his nose. He feels his cursed energy flow through him like a stream, not that river he had at fifteen. Good thing Megumi doesn’t need a river for what he will attempt. His hands form into the familiar shape of a dog.
In his first life, Megumi did not summon his dogs until he was seven. He did not summon anything else until he was twelve, but circumstances change, and Megumi does not have a choice.
The shadow on the wall grows. Megumi hears his dogs howling from the darkness. They are wild and untamed now, as they have never met their master. Unlike his other shikigami though, Megumi does not need to defeat them in a ritual in order to gain control. He must only learn how to summon. Come, Megumi calls.
The howling grows louder. He can hear the nash of teeth and the growls under their breaths. Come.
They come. Out of their darkened shadow, they claw their way into a different plane of existence they have not yet known. He has not seen them both together in far too long, and he hopes in this life he will not lose one like he did before. The brother and sister are not meant to exist without the other.
They emerge docile and huge, standing perhaps three heads taller than Megumi. They sniff his hair, and he sinks his hand into their warm fur.
Tsumiki stares at him from the futon, her shivering visible from underneath every blanket in the apartment. Her eyes cannot see his shikigami, because she was never meant to carry the darkness Megumi calls home.
“I have magic,” he says, which is a lie. But it is the middle of the night and she is eight so this explanation will work the best. Gojo will correct it when he finally gets off his ass and comes to find them. “I have magic dogs.”
Tsumiki blinks at him, probably wondering why the hell he’s playing such a weird game while they’re busy trying not to freeze to death.
Megumi crawls across the futon and takes her wrist in his. He brings the white dog forward, and he bends his neck to let Tsumiki’s fingers pet the top of his head.
Tsumiki gasps.
“Please don’t be afraid,” Megumi says, truly hoping he hasn’t fucked this up. “They’re going to save us.
Tsumiki’s eyes fill with wonder and she nods.
Megumi crawls back under the blankets. Behind him, the black dog follows, curling over his back. The white one curls around Tsumiki’s, and Megumi watches as she nearly cries from relief at the warmth they radiate.
Tsumiki pulls him close and whispers into his hair, “Thank you, little brother.”
---
“He’s still not there?” Nobara says, scowling. Megumi knows this is her way of showing concern.
“Not yet.”
This is concerning. They’re only about five years old and already, they’ve noticed a significant change. A life changing difference.
“Have you guys noticed anything different?”
Nobara shakes her head. “Small town. Nothing changes.”
“Yuji?”
Yuji shakes himself, a distant look in his eyes. “Yeah, not much difference here.”
Megumi hums, and Nobara catches his eyes. Neither of them believe him, and Yuji probably knows that too.
---
“So,” Tsumiki starts, sucking on the edge of her chopsticks. “You have magic.”
“Mhmm,” Megumi agrees around a mouthful of rice. He feels a little bad lying to her, but Megumi is definitely not the right person to explain jujutsu sorcery and curses to her. He wants to keep her out of it for as long as possible.
“How did you know?”
Megumi contemplates this. He should at least set the scene for sorcery, right? “Sometimes, I see these really gross looking monsters. And no one else can see them. So I knew they were magic, and I’m magic ‘cause I can see them.”
Her eyes are wide and a little frightened. “Are there any here? Or in town?”
Megumi shakes his head. “My dogs get rid of them.” They exorcize them, but she doesn’t need the gruesome details. Or about the one curse under the bridge he isn’t strong enough to defeat yet.
Tsumiki nods seriously. “I like your dogs.”
“They like you too.”
She grins like the New Year’s festival came early. The white dog trots over from his watchpost at the door and noses his head under Tsumiki’s hand. She gasps in surprise and giggles gleefully, scratching the dog's head.
---
Megumi can’t wait around twiddling his thumbs for Gojo to come in to save the day. The cash Tsumiki’s mother left them stretched longer than he thought it would. They traded things in the apartment for food and yen. Tsumiki and Megumi have made it far, but it’s not enough. Tomorrow, they’ll be out of money, and Megumi will not watch his sister starve.
His shikigami truly are their saviors. Megumi summons them every night. They keep them warm and guard the doors and entrances for intruders. They are also invisible and reasonably smart. Megumi sends them out with an order to bring back yen notes, and meets them on his way home. They fill his pockets with stolen profit, and Megumi goes to the local grocery store and buys eggs.
When he comes home, Tsumiki is overjoyed to eat anything that isn’t rice and canned beans. She thanks his magic dogs profusely, and Megumi is still a little amazed at how well she took the whole magic thing this time around. She was much more skeptical of jujutsu in his first life.
---
For as many tears as Megumi sheds in his sleep to his… what are they? (He knows, he’s just not ready to think about it and all its implications yet) he still doesn’t tell them everything. He doesn’t tell them about the poverty he and Tsumiki have fallen into. The freezing nights and the stolen cash to get by. They’ve got enough to worry about.
Yuji hasn’t said a word about what really happened to him after Nobara kicked the bucket, and he gets distant when the topic of families comes up. Megumi remembers that Yuji’s grandfather died the day they met in their first life, and the man raised Yuji after his parents died.
Nobara grows tense and restless with the topic of her home. Her grandmother was a sorcerer, and retired to a nowhere town to raise her family after a career ending injury. Nobara’s father barely had a lick of cursed energy in him, and no desire for a life more than the rice paddies and livestock. Megumi knows that when Nobara’s technique manifested, she took it and ran. She ran all the way to the big city, away from old traditions and tutting grandmothers, and didn’t plan on turning back the first time.
The three of them talk about a lot and nothing. They spend the primary amount of their time exploring wherever they’ve washed ashore. Megumi prefers it when they stay in Japan. He likes the comfort of home. Yuji is enthralled by America after they landed themselves at a comic shop somewhere in Tennessee in the 80s. Nobara likes anywhere that isn’t her own town, but Megumi thinks she prefers the bigger cities. She wandered for hours in Paris, complaining about the pollution the entire time but windowshopping the whole way.
Megumi suspects they all know the others are keeping things to themselves, but none of them are ready to confront that yet.
---
Megumi doesn’t have any other children his age in the neighborhood, which is fine. He’s not a social person, and never will be. It just makes it a bit odd looking though, when he takes a ball he found abandoned in a bush somewhere and kicks it around the street all on his lonesome. Sometimes Tsumiki comes out to join him, but usually she’s out at a playground with children her age. Three years is apparently enough of a difference to find her little brother both adorable and horrifically irritating.
So Megumi kicks the ball around. He takes the spare chalk his kindergarten teachers give him and draws across the pavement. He sits on his doorstep and reads a book.
He spends every spare moment he has on the street. There are a lot of moments, which stack into hours and more as the months pass. He hates the way his heart will give a little kick and his eyes will flick up when he hears footsteps coming. It’s usually the same woman walking her dog, waving at him awkwardly. Megumi waves back with equal awkwardness. Neither of them can stop the habit of waving at each other now, as that would probably make it more awkward.
Gojo is not known for his punctuality. It’s been nearly a year since the day Gojo was supposed to arrive, and Megumi finds himself just a little less disappointed each time another day passes.
(He’s actually more disappointed each time. He just learns to expect it.)
---
Tsumiki and Megumi are in a grocery store, discussing which bag of rice would be best. Tsumiki wants to buy the smallest, because they have little money and while she might not ask him where it comes from, she probably suspects. Megumi, however, wants to get a larger size.
“This one is cheaper.” Tsumiki insists, pointing at the small bag.
Megumi has to resist the urge to stomp his foot. They’ve been going back and forth for ages. “No, it’s not for how much you get. This bag has double the amount for less than double the price of that one. And this one has three times the amount for just over double.”
Tsumiki blinks at him, and Megumi knows they’re about to go back and forth on this again and he’s tired of this.
Megumi grabs her wrist, ignores her indignant “Hey!”, and drags her out of the store and onto the sidewalk. He pulls out the chalk still in his pocket and begins explaining to her, yet again, why they should buy a bigger bag with the equations to back him up.
When she’s quiet for a moment longer after he finally shuts his mouth, he turns around expecting victory.
Tsumiki, however, blinks at him.
“What?”
She blinks again. “You know math.”
Oh. Right. Time to go with it, though. “Yeah.”
“You’re five.”
Well… “Uh huh.”
Tsumiki squints her eyes at him, and for an irrational moment he’s scared she figured out he’s also fifteen. The math he used wasn’t that complex. He knows she solves questions like this in school. The difference is, she doesn’t think about it in a way to apply it to real world scenarios, because she’s eight and isn’t supposed to need to yet.
Instead of declaring him secretly a time-traveling teenager, she pokes him on the tip of his nose. He goes cross-eyed staring at her finger. “You’re weird,” she says, and turns around to walk back into the store.
They buy one of the bigger bags, and Megumi is then put in charge of budgeting.
---
The three of them can only wash ashore together, but not all of them fall asleep at the same time. To be considerate of each other, they all try to share the same bedtime. However, sometimes things happen. Megumi can’t fall asleep because it’s too cold. Nobara can’t because the storm is too loud. Yuji’s grandfather took him with him to a friend's house and they still need to make their way back.
It is Yuji who is late this time. Megumi has Nobara securely clasped in his hand as they’re dragged in and out of the rapid waters.
A teenage Gojo playing the guitar.
Splash.
A car speeding on the highway.
Splash.
Bodies littering the streets in Shibuya, and among them-
Splash.
Megumi often sees Shibuya. He often sees his own death, over and over and over again. He hasn’t seen Nobara’s or Yuji’s, for which he is grateful. He doesn’t want to see them die, but he expects that he will eventually. It’s only a matter of time until the merciless rapids pull him in.
---
Tsumiki’s birthday arrives, and Megumi sends his dogs out a little farther to acquire more money for groceries. He needs to be more careful. At the konbini the teller was talking with a customer about the local pit pocket. The police have a case opened up, as it’s simply occurring too often to be a coincidence.
Megumi has never been more grateful to live in a town that’s large enough to end up on maps, and not everyone knows everyone, but small enough to fly under the radar. He isn’t a suspect. Who would ever think little Fushiguro Megumi is the notorious West Creek Pitpocket? The poor boy has hardly ever been to that side of town.
His divine dogs do their jobs, as they always do, and Megumi sneaks a few yen bills into his sister's bag because he knows she’s going to the arcade after school with some friends but she would never ask him for money.
It’s good she’s gone, because it gives him some time. He splurged at the grocery store to gather the ingredients. His hands are much smaller than he is used to when cooking, and his body is still mastering hand eye coordination, so his meatballs all end up being a little lopsided and different sizes. Yuji’s meatball recipe may be familiar, but he still watches them cook carefully, worried that time has caused him to forget something essential.
They smell right when they’re done. He removes one onto a separate plate to cool down faster and gives it a taste. He has the sudden urge to cry when the familiar taste hits his tongue. It’s just like how Yuji taught him. Megumi can practically hear Nobara and Yuji laughing in his ear, Inimaki’s odd comments, Panda lamenting how he can’t eat, Maki and Gojo bickering. It doesn’t have the double amount of ginger that Megumi prefers, but it tastes like home.
Megumi climbs off the chair he balanced on to reach the countertop. He sets the chabudai and cleans up the kitchen and is nervously wondering if he should take another quick trip to the konbini to get ice for their drinks when the door creaks open.
“I’m home!” Tsumiki calls. He hears her toe off her shoes, and halt. A few moments pass, before, “What’s that smell?”
She rounds the corner, a confused look on her face. She freezes when she sees the chabudai with two place settings and the still steaming pot in the center. Megumi took a very long time transferring the heavy pot to the table, his dogs acting as his spotters.
“Happy Birthday!” Megumi says, awkwardly doing jazz hands. Why?
Tsumiki just stares at him.
Megumi begins to wonder, quite self consciously, if he messed up. They haven’t had homecooked meals since Tsumiki’s mother left. Rice and canned goods don’t count. Maybe she doesn't like meatballs. Maybe she just decided to go vegetarian. Maybe-
Tsumiki wraps him in a big hug, and Megumi’s feet lift right off the floor.
“Best birthday ever!” she declares, sniffing a little, “Thank you, little brother.”
Megumi grins back.
---
Once two years have passed since the day Gojo was supposed to arrive, Megumi finally acknowledges the growing fear in the back of his mind.
What if Gojo isn’t coming?
Gojo has to come. Tsumiki and Megumi have survived the last two years because Megumi has another fifteen years of life expenses on his side, and perhaps isn’t as afraid of the law as he should be.
Megumi doesn't want to survive the rest of his childhood like this. He doesn’t want to have to rely on his dogs to keep him and his sister warm in the winter. He doesn’t want to send his dogs out to steal wallets on the other side of town. He doesn’t want to have to keep faking parent signatures and fielding questions of where his parents are. He doesn’t want to be the only sorcerer in a twenty mile radius, and therefore have to send out his dogs to take out the flyheads and other low grade curses. (And it will be a long time before he’s strong enough to take out that bridge curse. He just needs to get to it before it gets Tsumiki.)
Megumi spends the majority of his waking life stressed out with how much needs to get done and go right so he and Tsumiki will be safe. He needs to steal, budget, lie to his teachers, keep the curses at bay. His dogs spend more time in the light nowadays than they do in his shadows, and he worries it’s making them restless.
He gets little relief in his sleep too. While being around Nobara and Yuji is a breath of fresh air he desperately needs, he also feels the weight of all that they are not saying out loud. And the visions he catches before they wash away continue to relentlessly haunt him.
Gojo needs to come save them. Megumi can’t go another twelve years like this.
(Megumi misses Gojo like nothing he’s ever experienced before.)
---
Nobara swears by her herbs.
Secretly, Megumi finds it a little amusing that for as much as she tries to acclimate herself to the big city and leave her small town life behind, pieces of it shine through. He saw her burn sage in a little pot every night before bed, and hang bundles of shiso and yomogi over her windows and doorways.
Nobara’s superstitions have begun to wear on Megumi enough that he scrounges up enough money to hang his own bundle of sage above every window and doorway in the apartment. He reluctantly admits that perhaps her relentless poking at him had merit, as he notices less flyheads making their way onto his street or near the apartment.
“You need to start drinking these teas,” Nobara nags, and nags, and nags.
Yuji is much more responsive than Megumi, because Yuji doesn’t have the same constraints on his budget that Megumi does. However, Nobara doesn't let up. She doubles down. Megumi has never been overly religious or spiritual, the way Nobara was raised, and being raised by Gojo in his first life turned him into a natural skeptic.
Nobara keeps telling him that the teas have helped her control the abundance of cursed energy she inherited in this life. Megumi has noticed it too. He’s stronger now than he used to be at six, otherwise he never would have been able to keep his divine dogs around so much.
The difference between Nobara and Megumi, however, is that Megumi actually has the opportunity to use his cursed energy. Nobara’s explosive nails would cause far too much damage to allow her to casually blow off steam every day. She hasn’t even gotten the opportunity to use her technique yet, as giving a seven year old a hammer and a bag of nails and telling her to “go wild” would be a terrible idea to any other child.
Nobara needs a direction to point her attention to, and by virtue of sharing visions/deaths together, Megumi is directly in the line of fire.
(Fuck Yuji, though. He caved to her so fast it was actually embarrassing.)
And so, reluctantly, Megumi blows the steam off his mug and takes a sip. It’s awful. Truly, truly terrible.
He finishes the cup and curls up with Tsumiki on the futon.
---
Gojo is on his mind when he falls asleep. Gojo is often on his mind when he falls asleep. He haunts Megumi’s every step; a ghost that is not dead.
Something is different this time.
The riptide pulls him under and and pushes him above and the glimpses flash before him at lightning speed.
Blue firing from the end of a 20 year old Gojo’s finger.
Splash.
A teenage Gojo scrunching up his face as Shoko blows smoke at him.
Splash.
Gojo, grown and familiar, throwing his arm over Nanami’s shoulder, who shrugs it off swiftly.
Splash.
Nobara grabs onto his left hand. Yuji his right. They shoot through the water, the current pulls them slightly of course, Megumi feels dizzy, and his feet hit solid ground.
Megumi hears Yuji suck in a harsh breath, meanwhile all the air evaporates from his own lungs.
Gojo Satoru stands before him. Real and breathing and speaking.
“That’s all you got, Suguru?”
Another boy grins back, careless and young. “You caught me off guard for a second.”
Gojo laughs. The basketball in his hand bounces off the ground, and they’re off. Gojo runs down the gym, the other boy follows. They elbow each other and step on each other’s feet and laugh.
Megumi watches them bicker and feels Gojo’s untainted joy in the air. He’s young. Younger than Megumi has ever known him.
Geto Suguru steals the ball and dribbles it down the waxed floor. Every footfall feels like a drum in Megumi’s head.
Geto throws, makes the basket, and turns to taunt Gojo. “See that, Six Eyes?”
“That was a fluke.”
“Oh, you sure about that?”
“That’s him.” Yuji rasps.
It breaks the spell cast over Megumi. He turns to find Yuji’s haunted face, eyes unable to break from the boys.
“What?”
“That-that boy with Sensei. That’s him.”
Megumi turns back to look at the boys. Yuji hasn’t been talking quietly, and they show no response. The three of them are simply observers to a moment in time that has already happened.
“That’s Geto Suguru. He was Gojo’s best friend, then he defected and died.” Megumi knows that Geto was much more than a friend, if the way Gojo couldn’t stop talking about him was any indication, but this isn’t the place for that.
Yuji shakes his head. His whole body is trembling. Megumi wants to reach forward and hold him until it stops. “That’s Kenjaku.”
“Kenjaku?” Nobara asks.
“The- the one responsible for Shibuya.”
The one responsible for their deaths, Yuji doesn’t say, but they hear it loud and clear.
Yuji begins to breathe harsher, faster.
“Hey,” Megumi says, actually reaching out this time. He grabs Yuji's hand, lifts his other to tilt his face towards him. Yuji’s eyes are pinpricks, wild and terrified. He can feel the other boy’s breath on his face, much too fast. “It’s fine. It’s fine.”
Yuji shakes his head. It’s not fine. (It isn’t. It isn’t fine. Megumi died. Nobara died. Yuji died. It isn’t fine.)
Yuji can’t calm down. Nobara, showing more intelligence than Megumi by far, grabs Yuji’s other hand and bodily drags him out the door of the gym. Jujutsu Tech’s grounds open up before them, grass green and breeze blowing. It’s the same as their time.
Nobara pushes Yuji by his shoulders to sit on the steps, facing the exit of Jujutsi High and away from the gym.
“Get a grip,” she says, too harshly. “You’re okay. Kenjaku or whatever-the-fuck isn’t actually here. It’s just us three. That’s it.”
Yuji’s arms come up to grip her sleeves, breath slowly wavering and slowing. “Okay,” he whispers. He’s looking at Nobara like she’s the only thing keeping him tethered to earth.
Nobara nods, like that’s good enough. “Okay. So… That was weird as fuck.”
“Yeah,” Megumi agrees, having to fight the urge to get up and walk back into the gym. Gojo is in there. He’s so close and so fucking far.
“We’ve got to talk about it now, you know.”
He nods, and Yuji does too. He looks more centered in himself.
“We were literally reborn in our enfant bodies. We died and came back. To the past. All three of us,” Nobara says, laying out the facts. “We get weird ass dreams every night about random points in time. Which we were not even there for. We’re reborn with more cursed energy than we had in our original lives.” She turns to Yuji. “You’re not even supposed to have cursed energy.”
“Yeah,” he rasps.
“Well?” she pushes, and crosses her arms. “Do you have it in this life?”
He nods.
Megumi sucks in a breath, even though he suspected. He knew, he just wasn’t ready to discuss it. They can’t beat around the bush anymore though.
Nobara nods, but even she looks tense. This isn’t a small thing. This is a major change that they don’t know anything about.
“We share a cursed technique.”
---
The snow soaks through his threadbare coat. Megumi can’t kick rocks because the snow covered all of them, and iced the rest to the ground. He doesn’t really want to make any snowballs either, since he doesn’t have any gloves and the faster he freezes his hands the faster he will have to go inside to warm up with his shikigami. His hands are very important, as they are required for his technique.
Well, one of them. Megumi has two now. Ten Shadows and… something else.
Two techniques are not unheard of. Gojo has two. Six Eyes and Limitless are individually quite weak. The combination is what makes Gojo Satoru The Strongest.
Fushiguro Megumi and Kugisaki Nobara also have two techniques. One they are familiar with, and one that doesn’t make sense. (Gojo is meant to be the only sorcerer alive with two techniques. They do not want to be The Strongest. They don’t even want to be close.)
Flakes of snow land on Megumi’s face. He scrunches up his nose in discomfort. It’s runny and red and starting to go numb. He’s not ready to go inside though. He’s going to keep waiting until he can’t anymore.
His mind strays back to his precious thoughts, as there isn’t much else to do. Nobara, Yuji, and him share a cursed technique between them. That is unheard of. That should be impossible. (It should also be impossible to die bleeding out during the apocalypse and wake up 15 years in the past.)
Megumi wonders if the presence of this technique gives Yuji enough cursed energy to channel Black Flash again. He syphoned the energy off of Sukana before, which was much more than he has now. Yuji is also stubborn and impossible enough he could probably figure it out. Typical Yuji.
Megumi can’t feel his cheeks anymore. His ears are going numb beneath his hat. He should go inside now. He’ll wait just a few more minutes.
They’re going to have to figure out how this technique of theirs works. They can’t let it keep throwing them around in the dreamscape anymore. Or… is it a dreamscape, or a domain?
The problem with new techniques popping up is that there is no research or records about them. Gojo taught Megumi about the previous wielders of the Ten Shadows. He learned from their mistakes and knew not to repeat them.
Now, the three of them are going to be the ones making all the mistakes. Hundreds of mistakes. They’ve had this technique for six years and have made minimal progress in understanding it.
Megumi sighs and watches as his breath fogs up in front of him. He needs to go inside now before frostbite takes his fingers.
Snow crunches behind him, and Megumi freezes. He can’t help it. It’s the neighbour walking her dog again. Or the man at the konbini taking a smoke break.
“Hey, kid!”
Megumi turns around.
“You're Fushiguro Megumi, right?” Gojo says, grinning and finally here.