Chapter Text
To no one’s surprise, Megumi finds himself again with Yuuji and Nobara on a Friday morning. They’re sitting inside a small cafeteria, squeezed in a corner, notebooks spread across the table alongside their breakfast. For once, they’re being productive. Yuuji muches slowly on his pancakes – the ones Megumi had forced him to buy after arguing that no Yuuji, just ordering a smoothie is not considered breakfast – as he turns to Nobara. “I need a break, dude,” he whines.
“It’s like I can’t even step outside my front door without the Krebs cycle popping into my head. Every minute of every day, it’s just...study for this, remember that, blah,” he makes a face, throwing his head back in defeat.
Nobara laughs at that, “Yuuji, we are barely finishing the first semester. You better pull your weight or else you’ll be left behind by us.”
“I’m trying,” he complains, rubbing his eyes. “But seriously, when was the last time we went out?”
Not able to resist, Megumi chimes in, “That’s what we are doing right now.”
Yuuji turns to glare at him. “I don’t mean it like that! I’m talking actually hanging out. Going to parties, all that jazz.”
A cellphone rings, slicing through their conversation. Nobara pulls it out swiftly, scanning the screen. A smile slowly appears on her face. “Well, today’s your lucky day Yuuji!” she waves her cellphone excitedly towards their faces, too fast to be able to read the screen. “Maki just invited us to a party!”
Instantly, Megumi pushes the offending item away dismissively, closing his eyes and turning his head with a huff. “Not interested,” he grumbles, crossing his arms.
There’s a moment of silence, unsettling him. Against his better judgment, Megumi opens one eye to see what the deal is. A sly grin is painted across both of their faces, which they quickly try to hide the instant their eyes meet. Curiosity piqued, he opens both eyes, scanning around and finding the notebooks are now missing from the table.
“Children,” he mutters. “Give them back, now,” he extends his palm, expectant.
Nobara exchanges a quick look with Yuuji. “You’ll get them today, after the party ends.”
“No I won’t,” he replies as he shifts to get up from his seat.
“Now, Yuuji!” Nobara shouts as she springs from her seat. In a quick flash, Yuuji restrains Megumi, holding him firmly in place. Momentarily surprised by the show of strength from Yuuji, he lets him.
“See you at 5 at my place,” she waves happily. “And please, don’t even think about wearing that hoodie. Like ever, seriously,” she says before quickly slipping out of the cafeteria.
Megumi shoves the grip around his arms, releasing himself from Itadori’s hold. In retribution, he gives him a soft punch on the top of his head.
“Ah! So mean!” Yuuji cries, rubbing his head.
“You deserve that and more, you moron,” Megumi replies, slightly annoyed.
“So you’re coming, then?” Yuuji continues, enthusiasm barely contained. In this state, Megumi could compare him to a puppy, tail wagging from excitement.
The idea of spending a night out with his friends has it’s appeal, he wasn’t going to deny that. But parties? They weren’t really his scene. Loud music, crowds and small talks with strangers made him uneasy. And don’t get him wrong, he knows how to strike up a conversation, have fun, even. It’s just that – it’s mentally exhausting for him to socialize. A fact that shocks no one, being an introvert himself.
Still, reluctant curiosity worms in his head. His mind longs for some peace, to escape from the constant thoughts that burden him and to forget, if even for just a second. The party could offer him that. A means to an end, he decides.
“As long as it’s not a frat party I’ll go.”
Yuuji’s face lights up, eyes sparkling. “Great!” he exclaims, almost bouncing in his seat. “It’s going to be awesome! I promise.”
Untrusting, Megumi gives him a side eye. “Sure,” tone laced with sarcasm.
Finishing the last bite of his sandwich, Megumi stands up and gathers the rest of his things. “See you later. Don’t be late.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
As he walks away from the cafeteria, he finds a silver of excitement creeping up. He just hopes he won’t end up regretting his decision.
Hours later, with the sun biggening to set, he strolls along a pebbled path, shadows casted on the pavement as he arrives at Nobara’s house. Nestled between tall buildings, her house stands out like a sore thumb. Just like the owner, Megumi musses with a soft smile tugging on his lips.
Sending a quick text, Nobara emerges from her front door. Radiating confidence as she’s dressed with a white plaid skirt paired with a shimmering black crop top and tall, black boots. If he didn’t know her, we would say that it’s such an effortless look, almost put together impeccably. But he knows if he steps inside her room, it be covered in clothes everywhere, a total chaos.
“You actually made it! Damn, I lost the bet,” she huffs, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her face.
Megumi raises an eyebrow. “What bet?”
“Never mind that,” she waves the question dismissively with her hand. “Well, at least you didn’t bring that old thing with you,” her gaze sweeps over him, taking in his simple black leather jacket, black tee and snug black jeans. “Not your best fit, but it’ll do,” she adds with a smirk, before turning towards her cellphone at hand, fingers tapping away in practiced manner.
Meguimi leans against the wall of the entrance, crossing his arms. “If I recall correctly, you pretty much blackmailed me into coming. I just threw on whatever. I’m a simple man.” It was a half-truth, his closet was filled with only black and navy clothes, which he couldn’t even begin to think in how to mix and match.
Stopping from typing, Nobara laughs. “You’re nothing but,” she stuffs her cellphone back into a pocket on her skirt. “Don’t worry though, I still like you, even if no one else will,” she gives him a playful jab with her elbow.
A sound distracts them as Yuuji comes running towards them, dressed in baby blue jeans and a cream shirt opened all the way, revealing a white t shirt beneath. “Hey! Sorry for being late, I had a little fight with my – ”
“Save it,” Nobara interrupts him, pointing at her car. “Get in loser, we’re late.”
“Nice reference,” he laughs as he climbs into the back seat.
“I would totally be Regina,” Nobara says as she sits on the driver’s seat.
“You would be Karen,” she continues, pointing at Yuuji from the rearview mirror, who sticks his tongue at her.
Megumi settles on the seat beside her. “And you would be Janis, you’re too depressing to be Gretchen, Megumi.”
His reply is a roll of his eyes. “If anything, I would be Aaron.”
“October 3rd,” Yuuji starts, cut off by his own laugher. “You would never Megumi! You’re so far apart from him you might as well say you’re Damian.”
They continue on like that, laughter filling the car as they make their way over to the party. Megumi feels happy and calm to just be there with his friends.
This lasts until they reach the driveway, he had been lied to, hadn’t he? College students were entering and leaving the house, music coming so loud that he could clearly hear it outside, vibrating trough the car.
“I’m not going in there,” he grits out.
“Oh, come on, Megumi! You need to loosen up a bit. Plus, do I need to remind you, that you agreed to this?” Nobara points out. She parks a street down, finding it impossible to park near the house, driveway filled with cars.
A fucking full-blown frat party, there was no other way to describe it. Megumi dramatically throws his head back against the seat. “You know, I suddenly remembered I have to walk my dog.”
“You don’t even have a dog,” Yuuji chimes in.
“My fish, then.”
“Stop it,” Nobara says as she unfastens her seatbealt and gets out of the car, “We’re going to have fun, and you’re going to like it. You agreed to this, no take-backs.”
That, he did. And he regrets it so much.
Noticing his lack of movement, Yuuji opens his door and leans in, “Look, if it’s really boring, we can just leave,” he promises. “Just, don’t knock it ‘till you’ve tried it, I guess is what I’m trying to say.”
A plan to escape forms into his mind, but he quickly discards it, ego taking place instead. He had made a promise and now he was going to be true to his words.
Resolved, he answers. “Just for a while, then.”
Yuuji shines a blinding smile at him. “Just for a while.”
They receive welcoming shots at the entrance, which Megumi takes from a short girl, giving a questioning look at the shot cup before deciding, fuck it, and gulping it in one go. The taste burns down his throat slightly, but it’s not unwelcomed.
As they finally cross the threshold of the house, Megumi is met with an astounding amount of people, voices merging in with the sound of loud music blasting trough speakers. The lights are dimmed, as red, blue and white flashes light the large living room, where most of the people are lounging about. The mixed scents of cheap beer and alcohol assault his senses, making it an omega’s personal hell. Yuuji doesn’t seem to be fairing well either, occasionally rubbing his nose.
Navigating through the crowd, they stop at a makeshift bar, where Nobara pushes through and comes back fairly quickly with three beers.
“Pay time!” she shouts strong enough to be heard over the music.
Yuuji takes one beer, smirk in place. “I’m glad to know values haven’t been lost.”
“I never go back on my word,” she scoffs, handing out the other beer to Megumi. “You too, it’s your fault I lost.”
Megumi takes it, eying her with a questioning look, “What are you talking about?”
Yuuji intercepts, “We bet on whether you were coming or not, I win. So pay up!”
Megumi turns to glare at him, “Is this why you wanted me to come so badly?”
A hand goes up to his ear, feigning ignorance. “Huh? I can’t hear you – hurry up! Shotgun it.”
With a roll of his eyes, Megumi does.
An hour into the party, Nobara disappears to dance with Maki in the crowded dance floor. Yuuji and Megumi lounge around, interacting occasionally with strangers and overall having a good time, both with a plastic red cup constantly in hand.
Fog surrounds his mind, clouded by the familiar buzz of tipsiness. Omegas were not known to hold their liquor well, and sadly, Megumi was not the exception of the rule. He blinks slowly, vision still not affected, at least that’s what he tells himself as he sees two Yuujis. Which would be hilarious because two Yuujis would be one Yuuji too much, right?
A loud shout catches his attention as a crowd begins to form around two kegs of beer – a drinking competition. Yuuji tugs him toward the group. “Hey! I think I see my brother!”
Only when they’re about to push past the group of people, does Yuuji’s words fully hit him. Slightly sobering up, he tries to still himself, but his friend is relentless as he continues to drag him past the crowd. Words form in his mouth and die just as fast, what could he possibly tell Yuuji? They had never touched the subject of his past, never mind his brother, and now…
“There you are!” a warm voice cuts through his thoughts. His gaze shots up quickly towards the source.
A man in his early twenties is standing in front of them, black hair loosely tied, and purple eyes. Purple? He repeats incredulously as he rubs his eyes and looks again, eyes staying the same. Yup, definitely staying away from alcohol, he decides as he puts his cup on a free surface besides him.
“This is my friend, Megumi!” he gestures toward him. “Megumi, this is Choso, my brother,” he shouts.
Megumi raises his hand, but is instead engulfed in a hug, “Ah! You’re the one my little brother has been talking about,” he takes a step back but keeps his hands on his shoulders. “Thank you so much for giving him those extra lessons, god knows he needs all the help he can get.”
Megumi’s eyebrows crawl up to his hairline, as he turns to look at now a guilty looking Yuuji who seems to have heard them. He does a complicated, and honestly ridiculous, series of hand gestures behind Choso. Pleading look filling his face.
“Ah yes,” he swallows, liquor not letting him lie as smoothly, “I’ve been thinking about stopping them, though, he has gotten so much better and doesn’t seem to need my help anymore.”
“Please don’t,” Choso laughs as he releases him. “I will be forever in your gratitude.”
Yuuji intercepts them, “Choso-nii, stop embarrassing me!” the other reaches out, ruffling his brother’s hair with a fond look in his eyes despite Yuuji’s protests.
Watching the scene in front of him, Megumi feels like he’s having an out-of-body experience. This was certainly not the brother he expected to find. Part of him is relieved, but the other is worried, deeply. Belatedly, he realizes that he doesn’t know about Yuuji’s life at all. Did he have any more brothers? Sisters even? Where did he even live? Their spontaneous goings were limited to Nobara’s house and occasionally Megumi’s, but never Yuuji’s.
Against his better judgement, he takes his cup again, finishing it in one go. The aftertaste leaves a tingling sensation on the back of his throat. He needs fresh air, he decides.
“Hey,” he calls loudly, catching the attention of Yuuji. With one final huff, he stops his talk with his brother and walks toward Megumi.
“Exchange for my silence,” Megumi says low enough for Choso not to hear. He hands out his empty cup, which Yuuji takes without hesitation.
“Alright then! But don’t you dare complain about the taste later,” is all he says before darting towards the other side of the room.
With his main distraction gone, Megumi signals silently at Choso that he’s leaving to the bathroom. The other man nods with acknowledgment, before turning his attention to the competition beside him. Megumi takes his cue to go, navigating through the thick of crowds. It proves to be a mistake, as the overwhelming scents become unbearable, intensifying his need for fresh air. He tries to hold his breath as he quickens his pace towards the exit.
Finally, he escapes into the cool air night, taking a lungful as he tries to clear his head. However, it does the opposite, vision becoming blurry as he stumbles down the steps leading to the main driveway. Something’s wrong. His body isn’t responding as it should, each step requiring a greater effort than the one before.
He reaches the last car and slumps against it, tongue feeling unnaturally heavy, making it even harder to steady his breathing. Something is not right, his mind insists, but the thought is fleeting, fuzzy, as he slides down the car. A shadow is falls over him, head heavy, he tries to look up, but instead, he’s met with darkness.
Black turns to blinding white as Megumi regains consciousness. Opening his eyes, he feels sharp, pinpricks of pain pulse through his head. He shuts his eyes, trying to block out the discomfort that clouds his mind for a moment. Typical hangover reaction, he reasons as he groans, finding a weird heavy taste on his tongue, promising to never drink again. He attempts to reach out for his eyes, but a sudden, sharp tug stops his movements. His eyes snap open, no longer offended by the lights as he turns down to look at his body.
Memories start flooding back, mind racing as bits and pieces come together. Was he drugged?
Fuck, fuck, he was fucked.
Panick surges through him as he tugs violently on the binds, testing them, but they refuse to budge. He’s tightly restrained: ropes cinch across his chest, legs secured on either side of the chair’s legs and his bare wrist are bound to his back. Every movement he makes digs the ropes deeper, making it hurt even more. He tries to scream in frustration, but it’s instantly muffled by a gag that tugs painfully at his face. How had he missed it before?
His eyes dart around the room, and his anxiety spikes. The room is small, lit by one hanging light above him. No windows and no furniture. Just a lone black door staring directly at him, taunting him. Megumi closes his eyes, trying to calm his racing heart. With little information, he has to rely on his nose.
Taking a deep breath, he detects the musty odor of dampness and dust, mixed with the trace of alcohol still lingering in his clothes. Nothing else. The room must not be frequently used, then.
The door swings open, snapping him from his thoughts. Dim light partially obscures his face, revealing a vague shape with grey hair. As the man approaches, his features come into focus. Disturbing tattoos are etched across his face, resembling crude stitches. Megumi’s mind races, trying to remember if he has ever met this man, but comes up blank. Heart rate jackrabbiting, the man’s eyes lock on to him, a twisted grin spreads on his face.
“Ah! Our guest has finally woken up. Took you long enough,” he sneers as he leans down and yanks his hair roughly, forcing Megumi to look up to him. Megumi swallows down a whine trying to escape, the tug adding to his current pain.
Unmoving, the other man stares at him, inspecting him with clear distaste in his face. In the harsh light, Megumi can now see that the stitches are not tattooed, at least, not all of them. The stitch spread across his neck is, which vaguely reminds him of something, someone. The pain searing his scalp doesn’t let him focus, blocking out his thoughts.
“Hmm,” the man muses, finally stepping back and releasing Megumi. “I really don’t get what’s the big deal about you, you seem so defenseless, weak,” he punctuates with a lick of his lips.
Megumi suppresses a shudder of disgust, determined to keep any sign of vulnerability from showing. Instead, he just glares at the man, motionless.
The man turns around toward the door, “Don’t get too excited, the main course hasn’t even started yet.”
The door closes with an echoing click, and Megumi wants to laugh. The encounter making him question his sanity, what the fuck is happening? Who was he? How many hours have passed? Are Yuuji and Nobara okay? He discards the last thought quickly.
They must be. Yuuji had Choso, and Nobara had Maki, he reasons.
A nasty thought surges in it’s place, you’re all alone.
He pushes down the feeling, slowly rubbing his head against the back of the chair, trying to dissipate the throbbing of his scalp.
Had they confused him with someone else? He couldn’t think of anyone he’d crossed for this to happen. The prospects – if any – lived in Osaka, and he seriously doubted they would come all the way to Tokyo for childish rivalry.
So that must mean that, whoever they are, they want something from him – or at least that’s what he hopes.
Minutes crawl by, anticipation building inside him, instincts growing louder and louder, shouting for him to move. He doesn’t know how much time he has before someone comes in again. It’s doubtful that next time he’s going have the same luck.
A thought occurs to him. Although omega’s fangs are considered duller than alpha’s, they’re still fangs. He forces his mouth to open as wide as possible, trying to get the cloth inside. With every grind of his fangs, the cloth tears a bit more. Until finally he manages to shred it, cloth falling onto his lap. Coughing, he spits out the lingering taste.
Now what? His mind taunts him.
An image of white hair flashes through his mind, jolting him back to a vivid memory of Gojo.
He’s sitting on the floor, drenched in sweat and aching after a training session with Gojo – who unsurprisingly had barely broke a sweat, the bastard. As Megumi lay there, exhausted, Gojo’s on the opposite side of the training room, scrolling through his cellphone.
Suddenly, he stops, sighing dramatically and tucking his cellphone into his pocket, before turning toward Megumi with a sly smile.
“Hey Megs, want to try something different?”
Curious eyes turn to look at him, “More training? That’s not like you,”
Gojo’s eyes gleam with something Megumi can’t pinpoint. “This isn’t training,” he pauses as if searching for words, “It’s more like…teaching.”
“That’s the same thing you dumbass!”
Gojo’s grin only widens. “What kind of guardian would I be if I didn’t show you the real dangers of the world? Or are you too tired to continue? That must be it, poor Megumi, too tired, too weak.”
Fueled by his words, Megumi stands up, muscles tensed. “Fine, this better be good,”
A resounding clap is heard, “Alright.”
The next thing he sees is Gojo lounging toward him with blinding speed. And then, everything goes black.
The memory shatters as he returns to the present. For a moment, he resents Gojo, hating the fact that he knows what to do now thanks to him. He glances down at the chair he’s bound to. It seems old and weathered. So, it would do, he supposes.
Creaks echo in the small room as he rocks the chair, testing his theory. Here goes nothing…
Taking a deep breath, he steels himself as he rocks forward and then, with all his power, backward, tipping himself over with a deafening crash. The impact sends a jolt of pain through his head as it slams into the cold floor, causing a ringing in his ears.
Grunting with effort, he kicks away the remnants of the chair’s legs, freeing his bindings. The relief he feels only lasts for a second, as he notices the ropes are still digging at his upper arms and wrists, leaving him in an awkward position. Using his remaining strength, he sits up, wincing as blood rushes back to his head.
Out of nowhere, a hand grabs him by his jacket, yanking him upright in a second.
“What do we have here?” comes a cold voice as he’s met with the steel gaze of brown eyes.
Sukuna, his mind supplies distastefully.
“Impressive,” he says casually, releasing Megumi. “You almost managed to escape. Not that it would have mattered. The moment you stepped outside would have been your last.”
Words spill out of his mouth before his mind can catch up, “I was wondering who was so afraid of me that they had to drug me and tie me down. Guess the question’s answered now.”
“Those are merely for your protection,” he glances look towards the remains of the chair, “Can’t have a wild thing like you running around as you please.”
Megumi narrows his eyes, “What do you want from me?”
“Patience. I just want to have a friendly chat with you.”
He looks down at his bindings before turning to Sukuna with a pointed face, saying nothing.
“You still have your head attached, do you not? No bruises on your pretty face this time around. You should be thanking me.”
And it sounds like he truly believes his words, a smirk splayed on Sukuna’s face confirming it. The situation couldn’t be more backwards, what was he talking about?
“You’re really delusional if you think I’ll thank you,” Megumi spits out.
“You know, for an omega, you’re not as submissive as they come,” Sukuna muses, eyes glinting with something Megumi isn’t familiar with.
Suspicion creeps in as he takes his words. He had heard whispers while walking through the hallways, that omegas were getting kidnapped in broad daylight, trafficked and sold to the highest bidder. He had dismissed the gossip immediately; they were just old wives’ tales crafted to scare omegas from going out. Right?
“Is this what this is all about? Your pickup game is so weak you have to kidnap people?” heart thumping, he gives a daring smirk. “Wow, that’s really pathetic.”
Sukuna’s laughter is a dark, mocking sound that reverberates in the room. “Quite the contrary, you’re not here for that,” he pauses, as he leans in closer, eyes flashing dangerously, “Although… I wouldn’t mind a bit.”
The air charges with something palpable and heavy, tension building up as they lock eyes.
It shatters just as fast, as a harsh throat-clearing sound is heard behind Sukuna. The sound causes Megumi to break eye contact, spinning his head. Eyes land on Uraume’s cold gaze. He feels stupid for not realizing before that there was another person inside the room. He must’ve taken more hits to the head than he can handle.
Sukuna clicks his tongue, pulling back, “I’ve been informed you’ve recently gotten close to Yuuji Itadori. Quite the coincidence that you happened to appear at the same school he studies at. You’ve been making sure to stick close to him. Too close.”
Surprised, he discards his previous theory, his mind thrown into a loop.
“What does Yuuji have to do with this?”
“That’s the same thing I’m asking you, what are you trying to do?”
“It’s a school. I go there to study, something a thug like you wouldn’t understand,” sensing a chance to gain the upper hand, he continues, “Why don’t you try asking Yuuji yourself, he’s your brother isn’t he?”
The atmosphere changes, as Sukuna’s demeanor darkens.
“Don’t get smart with me,” Megumi gets slammed against the wall as Sukuna closes in.
“Maybe I’m not being clear enough. What are you trying to do with Itadori, hm? Planning to harm him as revenge? Are you working alone or did someone send you?” Sukuna snarls, shoving his chest hard.
Megumi gasps for air, a stifling scent of sage, leather and hints of licorice start cloying his nose, making his head hazy. Panic starts crawling up to his throat, did his body find this scent pleasant? No fucking way.
“I don’t play dress up with gangs,” Megumi spits out, unsteady.
“See, you keep on talking about gangs and thugs. Why are you purposefully trying to downplay the Yakuza?”
Megumi’s blood runs cold, as the conversation steers to unfamiliar territory.
“I have no affiliations with Yakuza,” he grunts out.
“So, you’re saying last year was a picnic at the park?” Sukuna removes his hand from his chest, but doesn’t back down.
“Last year was just a stupid fight – I was defending my classmates from bullies. You know, the ones you sent.” Megumi rushes, as he finally has some space to clear his thoughts. “Funny, I didn’t know Yakuza’s were so bored they targeted highschoolers.”
It’s the first time he sees Sukuna’s face fall back into something else than anger.
Skepticism.
“You expect me to believe that you didn’t know Yakuza were involved?
“I already told you; I don’t know anything.”
Sukuna hums. “It’s hard to believe a ghost. Normal people have records that track seamlessly to a source. Yours is so bare anyone can notice it’s been tampered with. No information on mommy and daddy either, where are they?”
It’s like he’s in a bad dream, no, more like a nightmare. Nothing made sense, what was the purpose of this? Was Sukuna telling the truth?
“What are you trying to get at?”
“I can help you with that,” a dark smile crosses his face, “Let me remind you again of why you’re here,” he yanks his hair harshly, and seriously, what was it with Yakuza that loved touching his hair?
Sukuna leans down, releasing his pheromones, a deep, dark scent of licorice that makes his head spin. “Who sent you? The Zenins? The Kamos? Or maybe the Gojos?”
Through searing pain, Megumi is lucky that Sukuna can’t see the storm of conflicting emotions that arise. Was that stupid white haired involved? He’s glad that he didn’t have the guts to save Gojo’s number in his cellphone, as they probably went through it. If they find out he’s been involved with Gojo, he might as well be signing his death sentence. He might be stubborn but not suicidal.
“Yuuji’s lucky he didn’t turn out like you, you bastard,” Megumi redirects the conversation through gritted teeth. “He must not be involved, is that why you’re doing this?
The grip gets tighter, his vision starts to fizzle out, head no longer able to support pain after pain. He tries to grasp anything, desperate. “I’m not trying to harm Yuuji, he’s just my friend,” his breaths come slower now, legs starting to numb.
Surprisingly, Sukuna releases Megumi, causing him to slump back on the wall, barely sustaining himself.
“You think you can deceive me with mere words?”
Struggling, he meets his gaze. “If I wanted to hurt him, I already would’ve. Why would I wait it out for so long for you to catch on?” his legs give out, sending him crashing on his knees.
The room becomes silent, except for Megumi’s ragged breathing. He concentrates on a random spot on the floor, trying to regain some semblance of strength.
“I don’t believe you’re a threat,” Sukuna says, slowly. “But, if you’re lying, there will be consequences.”
Pain doesn’t recede after the confession, head constantly pounding as black spots on his vision slowly fade out. He doesn’t answer.
Sukuna crouches down to his level. “I’m not done with you just yet. I need something from you.”
For the first time, Megumi feels confident enough to blatantly roll his eyes, “What else do you want from me? Haven’t you had enough?”
“If you want to prove your innocence, you’ll do as I say.”
“I’m not making deals with you.”
“You’re standing in front of the most powerful man in Japan and you seriously think I don’t have something I can offer to you?” he sounds almost taken aback.
“There’s nothing you have that I want.”
With an air of arrogance, Sukuna smirks. “Oh? You’re not interested in giving Tsumiki proper care? I could arrange for her to be flown to a better hospital with world-class doctors. Who knows, maybe she could even wake up weeks from now.”
Every sentence pierces a hole in Megumi’s heart. The bastard had withheld the information until now to use it as his trump card.
And Megumi wasn’t having it.
“Shut the fuck up! I can handle it on my own,” he snarls, voice trembling with a mix of rage and fear.
“That’s no way of addressing Sukuna, you piece of trash,” Uraume hisses.
Just as he’s about to retort, Sukuna stands up saying, “You understand this was just a casual chat, correct? You tell anyone and I’ll kill you in your sleep,” and he even dares to flash him a charming smile.
Without even waiting for a response, he turns on his heel and strides away, footsteps echoing. The oppressive weight of his presence seems to dissipate as he closes the door, leaving an uneasy silence in his wake. Movement catches his eye as Uraume comes forward, expressionless.
Crouching down, he unties him methodically, blood rushing back to Megumi’s arms as he opens and closes his fists slowly getting used to the feeling. When Uraume is done, he stands up, condescending gaze surveying him almost like a pig for slaughter.
He sees a hand coming but his limbs respond too slow to stop it. Everything fades to black, again.
The first thing he perceives is the scent of grass, wet leaves and bark. The ground beneath him hard and cold, if a little wet. Megumi slowly opens his eyes, disoriented. The chill air feels like a slap to his face as he regains more of his senses. He’s on the floor, surrounded by trees and bushes, faint glows of light not too far from where he’s currently at.
Avoiding any sudden motions that might cause pain, Megumi slowly stands up. Cold air blows again and he turns to look at himself, confused, only to see that he’s no longer wearing his leather jacket. His favorite jacket.
He sighs, pushing the thought aside, it was really irrelevant compared to everything else that happened tonight. It was too much, too much information, too much pain, too much everything. What he needed right now was to go home and pass out.
He starts patting the pockets of his jeans, hoping to find his cellphone. When he doesn’t, he begins searching the area. Did those bastards take it too?
With limited visibility, he starts walking around, passing through bushes and trees for what seems like hours. A loud cracking sound makes him stop, as he looks down and finds his cellphone, who he had just stepped on. Carefully, he bends down and picks it up, turning it on only to see the screen flash ‘out of battery’.
Groaning, he resists the urge to throw the cellphone into the ground. There goes his plan to ask for an uber or call a taxi. He needs to find another way, then. Trudging his way towards the lights, he finds himself on pavement again. Thank god.
The road is empty, but familiar. Houses lined up on either side, dark and quiet, except for a singular house that has music blasting in the distance. Megumi weighs his options. If he were to find Nobara and Yuuji he could go home. But he’s unsure about his appearance. And what would he say when they asked him where he was?
First things first, a voice all too familiar whispers in his head. You can’t do everything at once Megs, remember, one step at a time.
Too tired to even question it, Megumi starts walking toward the noise. Suddenly, he’s flashed by lights, triggered by motion sensors. Turning, he sees himself reflected on a window of a house.
He looks like a mess, but at least this time he doesn’t have a black eye, just rope bruises on his wrist and upper arms, a reminder that everything that happened today wasn’t a hallucination. He tries to fix his hair and tugs down his t shirt a bit, which thankfully cover his marks on his arm. The wrist are a problem, but he’ll figure something out. Hopefully.
It’s torture once he arrives at the house, the headache that had now dulled to a low throbbing coming back at full force from the loud music. An unmistakable pink hair flashes behind one car on the driveway. Voice too loud to not be overheard.
“ – ‘bout this height,” a pause, slurred words continued, “Black hair ‘nd eyes, antisocial,” a hiccup, “you can’t miss’m!”
Another voice answered, this time, Megumi can’t pinpoint it. “No idea dude, I haven’t seen him.”
A high pitched voice joins, “I think I saw him. He walked off with some tall dude with funky hair, I think blue, or wasit grey?” she slurrs her words, “ah, pink just like your pretty hair.”
“Ookay lady, ‘ack off, don’t touchmyhair – ack!”
Without noticing, he starts walking, finding a blue haired girl brushing her fingers trough Yuuji’s hair like it’s the best day of her life, Yuuji’s hands are around her wrist, trying to push her off. Beside her, a tall stoic man is watching them.
“Yuuji.”
His voice cuts trough their struggle, as the girl removes her hand and turns to look at him. Or at least, tries to. She sways to the side, almost tripping. The other man catches her. “Alright Miwa, that’s enough,” he mutters as he hauls her up, bridal style and takes off.
“Megumi! Where were ya’ll this time?” his reaction is slow, like he had only just heard him. Ah, he’s drunk then.
“Bathroom.”
“Don’t lie! I couldn’t find you. I looked, for hooours. Did you – is it true y’went with someone?” Yuuji’s eyebrow’s waggle absurdly, insinuating.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he huffs. “Where’s Nobara?”
“She ‘lso left me,” Yuuji pouts.
He doesn’t have the energy to feel sorry for him, nevertheless, it compels him to say, “Let’s go, you’re drunk and it’s late.”
“Give me your cellphone, I’ll call us a taxi,” he shoots out his hand.
Yuuji turns to look at his hand, confusion evident in his face. Rope burns in clear view.
Panic sets in. Impulsively, he stuffs his hand in his pocket.
“Why mine? Don’tcha have yer chellphone?” he says even tough he’s already handing his cellphone to Megumi, who takes it quickly. Relief fills him, Yuuji being more distracted than normal was playing well to his advantage.
“Battery’s dead,” he replies as he inputs his address in the app. Convenient, as it also has Yuuji’s address saved, so he adds it as the first stop.
When the car arrives, they shuffle in quietly, Yuuji falling asleep the second the car starts again. Megumi avoids sleeping, unsure if he’d be able to wake up again once he does. They arrive to a large mansion, the Japanese architecture taking up the whole block. He makes sure to deliver Yuuji to the entrance of the estate, watching him enter safely.
The car starts moving again, and Megumi belatedly realizes he might as well have gone back to the same place he was just hours ago. A shiver goes down his spine.
He knows he escaped death today. And he never wants to experience this again.