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“Are you mad at me?” Megumi finally asked.
Nanami adjusted the car mirror above him, pausing to check the road before he responded with a small shrug, “No, I wouldn’t say so.”
“I don’t care if you are, just be honest with me.” Megumi pressed, leaning forward to try and meet the man’s eyes despite his seatbelt digging slightly into his neck.
Nanami shot him a look out of the corner of his eye, “My role currently is to escort you home, Fushiguro-kun, there is nothing more I wish to say on the topic. That is Gojo’s job as your-”
“He’s not my dad.”
“Your ‘guardian’ then,” Nanami corrected wearily, clicking his turn signal before shifting the car to the next lane. “I have no authority to criticize your behavior at the school and I do not wish to, as that would be only a waste of my time.”
Megumi glared, “What’s that supposed to mean?” he demanded.
“Tell me Fushiguro-kun, if I were to sit here and lecture you on why it is bad that you have once again gotten yourself suspended from your school, would it do anything to change your behavior moving forward?”
Megumi sank in his seat, crossing his arms indignantly, “I guess not.”
“Then why waste the effort?”
For not the first time during this particular car ride, Megumi found himself wishing literally anyone else had been free to pick him up from school instead. It wasn’t that he particularly disliked Nanami or anything, far from it. Out of his weird not-harem of adult figures in his life he would honestly say Nanami was the one he disliked the least.
He knew if it had been Gojo instead, he would have simply picked him up from school, clapped him on the back and tell him not to get too torn up about it (he never was) and how accidents happened (Megumi was never in trouble over coincidental accidents), and then ditch him to go back to whatever mission he was busy with previously.
He knew if it had been Shoko instead, she’d just sign whatever paperwork was needed and make as little conversation as possible in an attempt to hide the fact that she was still high or hungover, whichever it was that day, before walking him back home and crashing on their couch for the next couple of hours before her next shift or whenever Gojo came home.
“Do you know what time your sister will be home?” Nanami asked, breaking him momentarily out of his thoughts.
“A couple hours or so. School gets out at four but she usually walks her friends home instead of taking the bus so she’s usually an extra hour or so late.”
“I see,” Nanami checked his watch, and Megumi watched him do the mental calculations in his head, “Then I shall wait with you at the house until either Satoru or Tsumiki-kun returns.”
Megumi frowned, “Why? I can take care of myself.”
Nanami shrugged, “Already took the day off, might as well stick around a bit longer. If you don’t mind, that is?”
“I guess not.”
“Alright.”
At that precise moment, Nanami’s phone began to ring from where it had been stuffed into one of the cupholders on the driver’s side of the door. Nanami let out a small hiss of frustration as he fumbled for it, still keeping a determined eye on the road. His eyes darted to the screen for just a moment, before he handed the device to Megumi, “Here.”
Megumi let out a long sigh, not needing to ask who it was before answering the call and reluctantly holding the phone up to his ear, “What?”
“Hey Gumi,” Gojo sing-songed from the other side of the phone, “What’s going on? Nanami told me you got in trouble in school again.”
“Yep.”
Gojo let out a chuckle, though it didn’t sound as amused as it usually did. “Didn’t we have a talk about this earlier, Gumi? To wait until after school to beat up kids so we don’t get in trouble with the school again?”
Megumi couldn’t help but feel slightly offended by Gojo’s blatant assumption of what his crime was, despite him not being wrong. “The bastard was asking for it.” he grumbled instead, brushing his thump across the bruises that now littered his knuckles.
He heard Gojo sigh, “Couldn’t you have just let the teacher deal with it or something Megs? Isn’t that what the school gives you all of those PSA’s on?”
“Are you coming back soon?” Megumi asked instead of answering, wishing Gojo had just taken Nanami’s approach and left him alone about the whole thing.
“I- ah, no. Sorry Gumi.” Gojo cleared his throat, “It’s looking like its still gonna be gone for a couple more days.”
He hated the way his stomach churned with disappointment. The petulant voice inside of his head wanted to scream ‘wasn’t it just four days ago when you said the same exact thing’. He refused to let it speak, as it was a stupid thing to complain about anyway. He had known from the start that Gojo being around as much as he already was would always be more than he or Miki could ever ask for. Megumi knew craving anything more was bound to lead him towards nothing but disaster.
“Okay.” he replied, hoping his voice didn’t betray him.
“You and Miki got enough money for groceries and everything right?”
“We should, yeah.”
“Alright, well if this ends up not being the case just go ahead and bother Shoko for extra cash. Tell her I’ll pay her back like normal.”
“Alright.”
They both fell into an uncomfortable silence.
“I’m sorry Megs,” Gojo began, the previous carefree tone shifting so quickly Megumi almost physically winced. “I know I should be there-”
“It’s fine,” he said too quickly, “I really don’t care.”
“I know you-”
“I'm serious Gojo, it’s fine.” He repeated, “We’ve already paid this month's bills and we stocked up the fridge the other day. Quit freaking out.”
“I…” Gojo cut himself off with a long sigh, “Alright whatever.” Immediately his tone took on the familiar playful edge as if this conversation continued to mean nothing to either of them, “See you then, alright? Don’t be a stranger, feel free to call if you need anything.”
Megumi could set someone on fire and be sitting in the police station overnight waiting for someone to bail him out and he still wouldn’t stoop so low as to call him first, “Whatever. See you then.”
“Bye-”
He hung up.
Just two more years he’d have to put up with this. Two more years and he could move into the dorms in Tokyo Jijitsu High and he wouldn’t have to deal with any of this public school nonsense and he could focus on exorcizing curses and then maybe he’ll find some kind of peace.
He knew Tsumiki was especially dreading his inevitable transition to the school, even if she didn’t protest verbally on the topic. He saw it in the way she went oddly quiet whenever the subject was brought up, or the way her mouth would straighten into a thin line with barely contained disapproval.
“I just don’t see why I can’t come with,” she had ponder aloud once, while the two of them had been hanging out their laundry to dry on the clothesline, “I know I can’t see curses or anything, but Gojo always talks about how quite the place is all of that time. It’s not like they can’t accommodate me or anything.”
“You have school,” Megumi had pointed out, “And friends. You have a life here, it wouldn’t be fair to drag you with me.”
Tsumiki had given him a disapproving pout, but hadn’t technically disagreed. The two of them knew their situations were not the same in any capacity. Tsumiki had a community here, people who cared for her, people who would miss her if she were to leave. Megumi’s community was almost entirely tied to Jijitsu at this point. The only person who would feel saddened upon his absence was Tsumiki herself.
“Well, promise to visit me every weekend at least.” she had insisted, brandishing her pinky at him expectantly.
“I guess I’ll find the time.” he had joked, despite linking his own finger around hers without much complaint.
He liked to envision what his life would look like then, as a full-fledged sorcerer, working alongside other Sorcerers like Gojo and Uthaime-san. Gojo talked on and on about how much fun he had with his fellow classmates when he was in school, and seemed confident that Megumi would find the same kind of companionship once he was officially enrolled. Megumi didn’t share the same enthusiasm but he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to interact with other kids his age who were ignorant pieces of shit that made him want to kill someone.
Speaking of Gojo’s fellow classmates-
“Nanami-san,” he asked after a moment, resting his head against the window, “Why did you leave Jijitsu Society?”
Nanami frowned, “I’ll admit that’s a bit of a complicated question, Fushiguro-kun. Why is it that you wish to know?”
He shrugged, “I guess Gojo’s just been hyping up the whole curse-killing-thing and how awesome it’ll be when I hypothetically surpass him or whatever. And then Shoko always talks about how much she hates it all the time, but she never leaves either. I was just wondering what was different for you?”
“Let me be very clear Fushiguro-kun when I say this, no matter what Satoru or anyone else says.” he took a deep breath, before exhaling firmly out of his nose, “Jijitsu sorcerers are trash.”
Megumi blinked, “Trash?” he echoed.
Nanami nodded, “Correct. The entire system is built upon the fact that jujutsu sorcerers are required to forcibly accept that they must willingly sacrifice themselves and their comrades at any given opportunity. The idea that because we have this talent we are therefore obligated to utilize it.” he shrugged, “I find the concept idiotic, and so I left.”
Megumi swallowed, watching as Nanami’s grip on the wheel tightened slightly. He recognized all too well the same remorseful tone that told him that Nanami knew first hand what he was talking about.
“You’ll learn soon enough,” Nanami said, and while he didn’t look in his direction he could see the remorse in his expression, like he was already pre-mourning Megumi’s inevitable death, “And for that I am very sorry.”
He waited for a moment, expecting Nanami’s words to fill him with some sort of dread for his future. Fill him with some sort of desperation. Ultimately it did not.
He imagined himself bleeding out in some ditch somewhere, his entire life disappearing behind him. His life became whittled down to just another number on the casualties list. Another life that Nanami would mourn. Another death Gojo would feel responsible for. Another corpse for Shoko to bury.
He found himself oddly at peace with that outcome. The idea that the Zenin would never have the opportunity to persuade him to join their clan, the idea that he would no longer have to fulfill any warped sense of faith Gojo held for him for some reason, and could simply find peace in a world where he was just a number.
As long as Tsumiki still lived he didn’t really care what happened to him.
“Stop that.”
Megumi frowned, “Stop what? I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have too,” Nanami huffed, “I shouldn’t have said anything, I apologize.” Megumi opened his mouth to retort, but he continued, “There’s no use in romanticizing death before you’ve gotten the chance to experience it properly yet.”
“No hurt in being prepared.” He grumbled.
“In any other scenario I would be obligated to agree with you,” Nanami admitted, “But death is something you just can’t prepare for. Not in any way that matters.”
Megumi didn’t know about that, but he felt oddly obligated to agree with him based solely on the sincerity in his voice.
Nanami finally pulled the car into the driveway, and parked it. As he pulled the key out and the engine skittered to a halt underneath them, he turned to look at Megumi properly.
He opened his mouth, once, twice. Before letting out yet another sigh, “Just go through life one step at a time and see where it takes you. Deal with the obstacles you’ll find along the way as they come and don’t think too hard about what could or couldn’t be done. You’ll drive yourself insane before you actually do anything productive with that kind of mindset.”
…
Megumi sprinted as the scaffolding beneath him began to shudder, and the screeches from the curse below pierced his ears.
Grimacing slightly, Megumi lunged forward just barely managing to catch the edge of the roof before the framework beneath him crumbled entirely. He let out a surprised gasp as he slipped, and dangled haphazardly in midair, before he managed to sling a foot over the edge of the roof and pull himself up.
The Curse below him screeched once more, causing a flock of birds somewhere in the distance to flutter and bolt into the sky. Megumi panted, watching as the monster clawed desperately at the concrete with its oversized hands, blood dripping from its eyes. He desperately tried to find a comparison of it to something else but it was too dark outside and the creature was too much of a mess of hair, spikes, and limbs to properly make anything out.
Megumi crouched, plunging his hand into the shadowed part of the roof at his side and rummaging for the first Curse Sword he had stuffed inside of it before he left. It was shorter and thicker then what he was usually used to, but he didn’t have much time to do anything about it as the Curse suddenly jerked in his direction and sent a flurry of spikes that shot from its spine in his direction.
The shadows beneath him swallowed him whole as the spikes dove overhead, and for a moment. He shot out of the shadow somewhere back on the road, towards the Curse’s right flank. He swung the sword, cursed energy spitting out of it like embers to a flame and managed to hack off one of its twisted hands.
The Cruse screeched, and despite releasing the spikes it previously had jutting out of its spine, new ones suddenly took place. Megumi staggered back to try and avoid the attack but the lightheadness from all of the usage of curse energy was making his head swim. He let out a cry of shock as the spines plunged into his shoulder and he staggered backwards.
Realizing he’d been struck, the Curse whirled around and slammed its tail (it had a tail?) straight into him, causing the spine to dig even deeper into his flesh and send him crashing into the building behind him. The concrete behind him cracked, and a startled choke forced its way through his lungs as blood spewed over his chin. His sword clattered uselessly to the ground as his body sagged, barely conscious.
Trying desperately not to lose consciousness, Megumi pressed his blood splattered hand against the concrete and used it to push himself into a standing position. It didn’t help much as his legs were shaking just from the weight of carrying himself and his sword was too far away for him to grab and do anything with.
A shadow fell over him, and he looked up to find the Curse hovering over him, its mouth unhinged to an alarming degree. Megumi took a step back, trying to find a shadow to escape into through his haze to no success.
Before he could escape or the Curse could do anything, a familiar snap echoed, and the curse suddenly obliterated into nothing but a gob of blood. Megumi hissed as the creature’s debris was suddenly flung in his direction, but nonetheless sank to his knees in pure relief.
“Geez what would you do without me!” Someone called from somewhere to his left, Megumi couldn’t tell, “It really shot itself in the foot with all of these spikes flying around, and all I had to do was nail one of them with my Technique and the entire thing exploded!”
Megumi tried to wipe at the curse guts with the back of his sleeve, but found that all he had done was splatter his own blood over his face and he let out a frustrated groan.
“Oh fuck, tell me that’s just the Curse’s blood.”
Very slowly Nobara’s blurred face came into view, a trickle of blood leaking from a cut somewhere above her eyebrow and dripping off the side of her face but looking otherwise unharmed.
“Oh shit Megumi,” he heard her breathe, as her grip on his shoulders tightened even further, almost as if she was burying her fingers into his skin, “This is why you don’t go running on ahead!”
He let out a wet cough, as iron burned the back of his throat. “Maybe be faster next time,” he croaked.
“Shut up.” Nobara groaned, inspecting the spike that had previously been embedded into his shoulder that was taking its sweet time decaying with the rest of the Curse.
Megumi tried to straighten himself, he really did. Unfortunately his limbs strained under the effort and he found his legs point blank refusing to move. Megumi glowered down at his extremely uncooperative body, as adrenaline pulsed into his head at rapid speed. Seeing no other option for movement as he could feel his consciousness slowly ebb away he awkwardly lifted his arms up expectantly towards Nobara.
Nobara grumbled furiously under her breath, but took his hands in her own and managed to haul him upwards. He managed about three seconds of standing on his own before he pitched forward and forced Nobara to catch him
“Am I seriously going to have to haul your ass all the way back to the parking lot?" she demanded, despite willingly pulling his good arm over her shoulder and attempting to do just that.
“Sorry,” he wheezed, before breaking off into a coughing fit.
The two of them began wobbling at a horrifically slow pace towards where Megumi assumed the parking lot was, his vision was unfortunately too blurry for him to properly survey the area around him.
After barely three minutes of this, Nobara was already clicking her tongue the way she always did when she was feeling particularly inpatient. She shot him a glare out of the corner of her eye, “Don’t you have a Shikigami for this? Bound deer? Hound deer? No wait that doesn’t make sense-”
“Round deer,” he grunted, “And no, I can’t use it.”
“Why the fuck not?” She demanded.
Because I haven’t been able to summon a single rabbit with my technique because all I can see is Tsumiki’s body lying in a pool of her own blood. All I can see is Gojo’s upper torso lying sprawled on the ground. Because all I can hear is Sukuna’s laughter as he kills my sister with my own technique.
The memory hits him like a knife to the chest, breathing becomes too difficult. Something wet burns the back of his throat and suddenly he’s on his hands and knees with blood pouring out of his throatHe heard Nobara let out a string of particularly colorful curses, as she kneels down next to him, the only thing keeping him upright and he vomits more crimson to stain the grass beneath him.
For a moment he genuinely considers just telling her to leave him behind. Not because she’s in a particular hurry but purely to cleanse himself of the shame of having to be cared for in this way. He would much rather bleed out in the middle of the street alone then do so with the knowledge that someone who would miss him is by his side praying that he makes it.
But he knows Nobara. He knows that she would not leave him to do such a thing.
He also knows she would willingly drag him all the way back if he was a corpse. He does not want to leave her with that experience being her final recollection of him.
Megumi allowed himself a moment to ponder what that would look like. He imagined himself bleeding out in that very field and becoming yet another mysterious murder on the news because he lived in a world where non-soccerers were the ones who ruled the world they lived in. His life became whittled down to just another number on the casualties list. Another life that Yuji would mourn. Another death Nobara would have been absent from entirely and have to hear about after the fact.
Another corpse for Shoko to bury.
As long as Tsumiki still lived he didn’t really care what happened to him.
He’s suddenly jolted out of his train of thought when his vision shifts from the blurry night sky to blood stained grass. His chin slumps against Nobara’s shoulder awkwardly as she adjusts him properly to lie slump across her back.
Finding it too much effort to properly express himself with words, he instead opted to make a general noise of displeasure that was mildly obscured from where his face was smushed against the collar of her uniform.
He watched as Nobara’s strangled pants began to turn more into huffs as they continued on, and he watched as his blood leaking from his head began to slowly coat his uniform. He kept waiting for her to comment on that fact, and scolded him for it like she usually did whenever he made some inconvenience to whatever outfit she was wearing that day.
Despite his efforts not too, he admittedly did begin to nod off at some point because before he knew it Nobara is propping him against some random park bench, and she stalks away with her phone pressed tightly against her ear. Probably calling Ijichi.
“I don’t get it,” she said, “You’re obviously an idiot, but you're not that dumb. Why did you let it get the upper hand on you like that?”
He blinked up at her hazily, “Out of practice.” he offered, hoping she’d accept his half-assed excuse and leave it at that.
Unfortunately Nobara was the master of not leaving matters alone, and only pressed further, “Don’t give me that. There’s out of practice, and then there’s straight up refusing to use your technique at all. What’s up with that, huh?”
She was right of course, in any normal situation he would have simply summoned Totality and watched it tear the curse to shreds without a second thought. Nue could have stunned it with its electric abilities and it wouldn’t have even had the chance to shoot him with its spines. Then he and Nobara would probably be on their way to some shopping center and finding somewhere to eat like they had originally planned to do before all of this.
“We’re going to have a good long talk when we get back,” she announced, seemingly no longer caring about the volume of her voice, “Yuji has insisted on giving you space, but I’m getting real sick of whatever suicidal bullshit you’ve got going on right now.”
His eyelids flickered shut on impact, as his interest in whatever she had to say immediately evaporated. He didn’t need to talk with her or Yuji about anything. Sure this was a huge inconvenience to her time and mission for the day, but he trusted her and Ichici to get him to Shoko before he ended up suffering any real consequence. Did it really matter what happened to him between then and now? If the outcome remained that his friends were alive, did any of that really matter?
Very slowly he came to the realization that it did in fact matter to Nobara, if the furious tears began to well in the corners of her eyes as she brushed them away before she thought he would be able to see.
_________________________________________________________________________________
He wakes up to find Shoko blinking down at him with his own blood staining the palms of her hands. He thinks he imagines the way her shoulders relax slightly when he sees him awake, but simply tells him to try and get more rest.
When he wakes up for a second time it’s the middle of the night, and any evidence that a wound was even there in the first place is gone. He feels disoriented and light headed, and distracted by the blood bag that hangs over his bed almost ominously.
Out of the corner of his eye he watches Shoko make her way to his bed side, the signature click of her heels echoing into the otherwise silent operating room.
“Alright you should be good to go,” Shoko said, offering him a spare shirt. It was only then when he realized she must have had to tear off his previous one to properly heal his shoulder in the first place. “Now that you're alright I need you to get out, I have another operation I need to do.”
“I just woke up,” he protested, blinking frantically in an attempt to clear his vision as the ceiling lights above him blurred and twisted.
“Yeah and I have to save another child. You’re not special. Get out.”
Letting out a long sigh, Megumi slid off the operation table almost robotically, pulling on the shirt over his head. It’s then when he remembers to ask, “Is Nobara-”
Shoko waved at him dismissively from where she was hastily cleaning her blood stained tools, “She’s fine. Sent her to bed about twenty minutes ago. She said she’s leaving the mission report to you.”
“How thoughtful.” he muttered, wincing slightly at the slight phantom pain that rushed up his arm when he moved his shoulder slightly. He had always found the after pains of RCT’s otherwise flawless healing capabilities to be somewhat frustrating.
“What do we say…” Shoko prompted, drenching her hands in soap and she scrubbed them thoroughly under the running water of the sink.
“You're going to run out of that stuff at the rate you're going at it.” he said, eyeing the soap dispenser wearily.
“What do you say?”
He rolled his eyes, “Thank you, Shoko.” He said, “Good luck with your next operation.”
“Yeah, I’ll need it.” she mumbled, drying her hands off on her coat, which Megumi thought was a little counter productive to keeping them clean.
He made his way to the door, ready to make a beeline for his room and crash, mission report be damned. Until the water suddenly shut off and Shoko called, “Megs?”
He froze. No one had called them that since-
“Nobara told me about what happened.” she said. He didn’t have the courage to turn to look at her, but he could feel the slight purse in her lips that she always got when approaching a topic she knew wasn’t going to end well.
“What about it?” he asked, and was relieved to find his voice came out dry and detached instead of defensive and frightened.
“Do we…” she sighed as sounds of shouting echoed down the hall. No doubt the scheduled other child that she would need to drop everything to save. “Do you need to talk?”
Megumi fixed her with a raised eyebrow, “Do you even have the time for that?” he asked, before turning and taking off down the hallway before she could make an argument against him.