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The moment Sukuna allowed Yuuji inside his domain for casual reasons, Yuuji had thought he succeeded. He wanted to bother Sukuna and be closer to the curse (which was a stupid move because Sukuna is… well, him). He figured if he had to live with the curse inside of him, might as well be acquainted. Maybe, a plot twist would be that he managed to get Sukuna on their side and he won’t be executed anymore. It was wishful thinking.
At first, Sukuna would bring him into the domain for a couple of weeks to chat. Then Yuuji had figured out how to cross his consciousness over to the domain himself. But for months and months of spending time with Sukuna in the domain, he started to regret it.
Because he had fallen for Sukuna.
It was stupid. It shouldn’t have happened.
It wouldn’t be too bad if he just fell for Sukuna, for his quirks and annoyingly adorable behaviors, and how surprisingly beautiful he was all the way from the details in the red of his eyes and the way the black marks stained his lean body. But after a while, when their conversation started going past arguments and playful banters, Sukuna started to only talk about a man he yearned that wasn’t him.
When you became heads over heels with a person, to hear them talk about another person in a way you want them to talk about you, hurts like a motherfucker. Every word out of their lips would be lethal acid to the heart.
Almost every night for months, he would sit by Sukuna, lounging, he would spend the time listening to Sukuna talking about how much he had fallen for Fushiguro, of his talent and abilities, his potentials and how he’d rather Fushiguro than Itadori himself. Especially after Fushiguro had attempted his first Domain Expansion. Yuuji would act like he didn’t care, like he agreed that Fushiguro was better than him, and he believed it. The way the idea played into his mind so much because of Sukuna, it convinced him that he’s just much less than everyone else.
It bothered him but not that Sukuna was alarmed by it. He didn’t care about Yuuji like that. Yuuji was just there to be his vessel, including a vessel for his thoughts. Yuuji couldn’t even find a window to even talk about his day once Sukuna found more joy talking about Megumi. Initially, Yuuji had tried to find solace in the way Sukuna beamed when talking, even if it’s about another man—his own friend. But it was hurting him more than he thought it would.
So he stopped visiting Sukuna’s domain.
He’d rather sit in the dark and drown in his thoughts, or overwhelm his senses with multiple distractions at once.
At first when he did that. Sukuna paid no heed. The lies Yuuji gave to avoid going in the domain was believable. But after a while, it was clear that they were mere excuses.
Sukuna himself had grown accustomed with Yuuji’s company in the domain, so it wasn’t a surprise that he eventually felt the emptiness on top of his skull mountain, and the detachment Yuuji was actively enforcing between them. The boy seemed numb lately from how much he tried to not feel things, and as much as Sukuna wouldn’t admit it, he did grow a little worried because it was uncharacteristic.
Perhaps it even became too much for Yuuji to bury it down one day, that he couldn’t even hide it from Sukuna who was always listening and watching.
Yuuji had opened the fusuma that acted as the door leading his room to the outside, for no reason. He just felt like he needed the breeze on his face before he hyperventilated or panic after a particularly gory mission that day that involved a curse born out of love that was never reciprocated. All the words the curse and the curse user had spouted all hit Yuuji a little too close to home, but he couldn’t let emotions take over during missions.
So after the mission, when things had properly settled, the reality of it dawned on him like a tonne of bricks.
A curse from unrequited love.
Yuuji glanced at his palm, the one he used to close the curse user’s eyes after he killed her, feeling the weight of the life he had taken. The user just wanted to be loved by someone special, but was betrayed. He had hoped he gave some peace after death to the user.
But the pain overlapped his current one. It was a blessing as much as it was a curse.
I ended a life again today with this hand. I feel like I should receive a retribution for doing it, even if it’s a mission.
He instinctively stood up and went to his desk, opening the top right drawer. Underneath a folded winter scarf, was a blade. It was for emergency combat if he went out for a random stroll even when he would just rely on his martial arts. It was left unused but…
Yuuji took out the blade and tilted it, letting the moonlight illuminate the angle of the blade. And almost on instinctive reflex, he pressed the side of the blade against his palm.
The first pressure he put, it just dented the skin and it barely scarred. He wasn’t satisfied with that. He wanted to feel something. So the second time the blade touched his palm, he was putting it in an angle, then dragged the tip of the blade across his palm.
Yuuji didn’t even realize that he had cut himself too deep. All he cared was the stinging sensation coming from it, and how he could physically feel the blood flowed out of his palm.
Didn’t the curse user also used her blood to water the plants as some sort of sick offering? Did the plants actually benefited from that? I wonder...
He clenched his hand and pressed the tips of his fingers harshly on the cut across his palm, hissing at the pain but it was too pleasant. It allowed him to feel something other than the hollowness in his chest. But the fact that it only forced more blood to come out prompted him to step outside of his room and let the blood drip onto the grass right under a tree directly in front of his room. He looked at how the blood was absorbed by the soil and flowed onto the leaves fallen on the ground.
It looked strangely ethereal and calming.
For once, he felt calm since a few months. But luck wasn’t on his side when it was terribly shortlived.
The pain of the kill had subsided, but now the words the curse user had said now echoed in his mind—speaking the things he had kept buried down.
So much for being happy go lucky when you’re this fucking depressed about a stupid unrequited infatuation.
…
I’m pretty sure I’m likeable. People tend to say that. But I feel like I’m unlovable. Everyone needs a solid ass reason to even stay with me. But… maybe they’re sparing themselves from the pain because I’m set to be executed. I’ll be selfish if I want people to be attached with me like that.
He shook his head, trying to get those thoughts out of his head before it gets too bad, but when he had snapped himself back to focus was when he realized that he had tears dripping out of his eyes onto the same ground that cradled his blood.
What a pitiful combination.
“It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re okay,” he told himself, using a third person term thinking that he’s the only one to comfort himself.
“Just bury it down. It’s not the first time you bury down your shit,” he spoke under his breath then used the end of his shirt to press on his cut. He hated this sadness. Ignorance was the best thing in the moment. Indifference would be better than feeling this.
“What the fuck is up with you?” Sukuna asked from his cheek, clearly annoyed. Maybe his emotions and thoughts overwhelmed even Sukuna’s headspace.
Sukuna of all things was the last thing he wanted to deal with right now, especially after the very specific mission that reminded him of Sukuna.
“Leave me alone. I don’t need you to make my day worse,” he muttered breathily, clearly exhausted.
“Always so emotional,” Sukuna drawled and in a teasing manner, mocking him, “he would handle emotions way better than you—”
It was clear who he was, and there was an ick in Yuuji’s mind. He didn’t hate Megumi, but he was a rival. Somewhat. He can’t even compete with Megumi so there’s no point. That didn’t help dissipate his anger that rose at Sukuna’s words.
“Will you please SHUT UP?!” he screamed, tugging on his own hair and the blood still staining his palm stuck to his pink hair. His calm and numb facade had broke, and it even startled Sukuna enough to stop talking and instead be properly concerned at the ragged nature of his energy and soul.
“Brat, what are you—”
Yuuji crouched on his knees on instinct at his own burst of sudden anger, his two hands now closing his ears as an effortless attempt to shut off both Sukuna and his thoughts. His tears now back trailing his cheeks in a colourless shine. Blocking off his emotions for too long, only to have it rush back in his mind had overwhelmed him and he knew he was starting to hyperventilate.
Breathe, breathe, breathe.
He didn’t even realize that he was rocking himself in that position, but his breath now quickened and his tears wasn’t stopping. And he didn’t even realize how there was a figure now looming over his crouched body.
Yuuji didn’t know who it was, because his vision was blurry and any and every noise was like static to him. But he knew that he was hugged to their chest to calm him down until he eventually slept in their hold from the extreme exhaustion.
Fushiguro was startled awake because he heard Yuuji screamed. He had sworn he heard another deeper voice alongside Yuuji’s but he was too hazy out of sleep to pinpoint who it belonged to.
When he stepped out of his room to the connecting side garden, he saw Yuuji crouching under a tree in the middle of the night. But it was as if he was in a paralysis. He was rocking his own body, shaking either from overwhelming sensation or from the cold, and he was sobbing and crying non-stop. He cautiously moved closer to Yuuji, but was paid no attention to. When he was right behind Yuuji, he realized how quick his breaths were and how there was a stain of blood on one side of his pink hair, down to his ear and all over one hand that seemed hastily wiped off.
He didn’t know what to do. But Yuuji was someone who’s comfort was physical touch. At least one of it. Fushiguro wasn’t used to it, but for Yuuji, he automatically let himself fall on his knees and pulled Yuuji to his chest, hugging him as reassuringly as he could.
“It’s okay. Itadori. I’m here,” Fushiguro muttered when he rested his cheek on top of Yuuji’s head, shifting himself so Yuuji would nuzzle into him properly.
He could feel Yuuji lean and melt into his comfort, even if he wasn’t fully aware just yet. In the cold of the night, somehow he found himself sitting on the ground with Yuuji that was broken in a way he didn’t expect.
“You’ve been holding on to a lot, haven’t you?” he whispered against Yuuji’s head as the boy seemed to have steadier breaths and had slumped against him. He lifted his head and pushed Yuuji slightly to see if he was finally back to his senses, but rather the boy had slept in his arms. As worried as Fushiguro was for Yuuji, he managed to smile to see a calmer expression from him, snoring lightly. He was glad that he wasn’t pushed away and had the opportunity to comfort the boy even if Yuuji wasn’t even aware it was him.
He should bring Yuuji back inside, but trying to pull Yuuji was a bit difficult because Yuuji was about 20kg heavier than him, and he didn’t want to drag Yuuji through the grass. He can’t just scream for help this late at night. He had Gojo on speed dial and he knew Gojo cared about Yuuji enough to drop anything to help him, so he gave Gojo a quick call to which he picked up after the third ring.
“Megumi? Shouldn’t you be sleeping? What do you need this late at night?” Gojo’s voice was heard from the other line, a little too awake to have just woken up.
“Can you come over outside my dorm? Under the big tree. I need some help,” Megumi said, controlling the volume of his voice to not possibly startle Yuuji awake.
“This late at night?”
“I’ll explain once you come over. It’s about Itadori,”
“... Ten seconds,” was the response Gojo gave before he ended the call.
And just after 8 seconds, Gojo had warped to the opened fusuma of Megumi’s dorm then went straight to him on the ground. Gojo had crouched down to his level to see Yuuji sleeping in his arms. To see such sight would’ve been cute, but considering the circumstance—them being outside in the cold of the night and how Yuuji looked, it was anything but cute.
“What happened?” Gojo asked, putting his hand on Yuuji’s forehead to see if he was probably flaring up from the cold.
“I think he had a panic attack. But I can’t carry him back in myself,” he said with a whisper tone, and Gojo also automatically lowered his own voice.
“Seemed worse than just a panic attack,” Gojo said. He’d question why he was called over just to carry Yuuji but seeing this, it made sense. Megumi might not know what to do after the fact, and Gojo could give him some steps to follow.
Gojo had gestured Megumi to move away and as he did so, Yuuji had slumped over to Gojo, so which the man immediately put his hands on Yuuji’s back and under his knees before standing up to his feet with Yuuji now in his arms.
Megumi sighed in relief to see Yuuji finally brought inside his room again, and placed carefully on his bed. He didn’t realize this before because he went straight to Yuuji when he woke up, but there were fresh blood dripping and trailing from Yuuji’s desk to the door, until the spot he had found Yuuji. It looked too much to come from a simple wound, but there was also a bloodstained knife dropped on the floor.
“Megumi. Yuuji keeps a bunch of first aid items in his closet, bottom drawer. We need to properly clean his wound right here,” Gojo instructed Megumi, while he excused himself saying he’ll get a bowl of water to wipe some dirt and the dried blood on the boy.
Fushiguro had opened his closet, which was surprisingly neat and colour-coordinated, and in the bottom drawer was exactly what Gojo said the first aid items would be. He didn’t think any of his peers kept this many first aid items for themselves, so the fact that the whole drawer was reserved for an arrangement of first aid kit was surprising.
Itadori seemed to be well prepared to treat himself… But, that begs the question of how often Yuuji is injured without any of us knowing. Had he been hurting himself? This current wound is self inflicted, for sure.
He looked through and grabbed a gauze bandage, cotton strips, hydrogen peroxide. He didn’t recognize the variety of ointments and didn’t want to grab the wrong one, so it’s best to wait for Gojo for that. He brought it over and put it on the nightstand. Megumi gently pushed Yuuji’s head back, careful and gently, then took Yuuji’s injured hand to see the wound. It was sliced clean through, but it was dragged all the way through from one end to the other. And it was too deep to his liking coming from Yuuji.
Why didn’t you tell me if you’re hurting, Itadori? You deserve to only smile in your life…
Gojo had walked back in with a bowl of water and a face towel to see Fushiguro holding Yuuji’s hand.
“He’ll be fine, Megumi. Tell me what happened,” Gojo said, and immediately went to sit on the bed next to Yuuji, gently wiping his face with damp towel, revealing back the pristine tanned skin that had been stained by blood, sweat and tears.
Even for Gojo, this was the first time to see Yuuji having this bad of a day to the point of self-injury. The boy, as vibrant as he was, kept too much to himself and this day was the day his emotional shell could no longer contain the overwhelming pent up problems and anxiety. He was as worried as Megumi, but he knew Megumi would have it worse for seeing it first hand as it happened, and for living right next to Yuuji.
“I woke up because I heard Itadori screamed. He was telling someone to shut up, maybe even telling himself off. I was still hazy from sleep but I tried to rush out and he was already crouching, shaking and hyperventilating. He couldn’t stop crying, he closed his ears and he didn’t even realize I was already next to him and hugging him. Then I think he simply fell asleep on me,” he explained, sitting cross-legged on the floor next to the bed, looking straight at Yuuji’s calm face but with a subtle frown on his face probably due to the cold contact of the damp towel.
“I wish I could’ve done more. I feel like this isn’t the first time,” Megumi added, sighing and then rested his chin on the mattress, “sometimes he had bandages on his hand or wrists, or his legs. It might’ve been regular wounds from missions, but who knows if any of it was actually also self-inflicted too, all of this under my nose,” he explained further, feeling defeated but also fueling his want to be closer to Yuuji and gain his trust so he can be there when the boy needs a shoulder to cry on.
“You did what you could. If you didn’t wake up and calm him down, and call me to help him, something worse could have happened. You were there at the right time for him,” Gojo reassured, then patted Megumi’s hair.
“Thank you for coming over. I think I’ll look over him for a few more hours,” Fushiguro said, as Gojo finished bandaging the boy’s hand neatly and tightly enough that it won’t unravel itself if Yuuji were to thrash in his sleep.
“... I’ll excuse the both of you from classes and training, and would assign any possible missions to someone else. This must’ve messed you up as well. Just take it as a gesture of gratitude from me for taking care of Yuuji,” Gojo said, then bid the boy goodnight.
Megumi looked over at Yuuji, resting his head on the mattress right next to his bandaged hand before cradling said hand in his own, feeling the warmth of Yuuji’s skin as his own solace for the night.
“How pathetic. You had fainted,” Sukuna had said when Yuuji crossed the domain forcefully, not on his own volition but because Sukuna pulled him in before he could enjoy any sort of dream or enjoy a blank screen in his mind while time eat away his consciousness.
Yuuji partly ignored Sukuna, lying on the shallow red waters. He raised his injured hand in front of his face, then sighed. The feeling of physical pain was too short-lived. He needed more than that to ignore the ache in his heart but somehow it all became worse that he had a panic attack.
Yuuji stayed on the ground, partly hoping the water would rise and drown him so he’d be sent back to his body even if it wasn’t the most pleasant way, but he was also not in the mood to even face Sukuna that he closed his eyes.
“Stop forcing me in here,” he muttered, a little too slow but Sukuna would always hear what he said in that domain enclosure.
Sukuna didn’t reply. He just observed how Yuuji simply refused to move, then the incident earlier had came back to the curse’s mind. It was… actually concerning. Even for a heartless bitch like him. Especially that he observed the boy’s day to day life for months now, almost a year, so he’s used to the boy’s quirks like the back of his hand. So to see him break, it wasn’t as pleasant as he thought it would be to witness. It actually bothered him.
“First you stopped coming over here, then you pull this stunt,” he muttered under his breath, displeased from the sound of it.
“Will you please shut the fuck up, Sukuna,”
“Why did you stop coming?”
“I don’t like it here anymore,”
“Why?” he insisted, even when Yuuji was being as obvious as ever to not entertain him.
“None of your business. Stop talking to me,” he said, exasperated. Though he kept his eyes closed so the stress wouldn’t show too obvious on his face.
“... But I had enjoyed your company,” Sukuna said, and that got Yuuji to pause for a bit. He sounded… sad? Yuuji’s only explanation to that tone was that Sukuna was feigning the sadness rather than actually feeling sad. What a ruse.
“Oh how rich. Whenever I’m here, all you do was boast about Fushiguro then use that to downgrade me even further not even caring about how that makes me feel. But I guess that’s too much to ask from a curse like you. Geez, how the fuck did I end up falli—” he stopped himself abruptly before he spoke too much. He was too annoyed that he had let his mouth run without braking earlier. Yuuji finally opened his eyes and pushed himself off the ground, still sitting but he now looked at Sukuna to see if he had heard too much.
“Eh?” Sukuna voiced up, confused. He felt like he could finish that sentence for Yuuji but…
“Send me back to my body,” Yuuji immediately said, his gaze on Sukuna shifted from hesitance to insistence.
“Stop that—” Sukuna said when he saw that Yuuji might actually hyperventilate or panic again. He was too fresh out of the earlier outburst so he was still vulnerable to it. And if he had a panic attack here, it might cause his physical body to get the same reaction and without a full control of it, there might be other damages caused because his soul would be directly shaken.
”I SAID SEND ME BACK—” he was about to push himself up when Sukuna had moved from his skull seat towards Yuuji in a split second, grabbing his wrist forcefully before he rip his hair.
“You’re gonna hyperventilate even in here at this rate,” Sukuna muttered, and Yuuji looked at him scared.
Sukuna knew he wasn’t doing anything scary. And Yuuji was someone who was usually unfazed by Sukuna’s aggressiveness in every sense of the term. He was used to it, so to see Yuuji looking scared from a simple grip to the wrist, it confused him.
“What is wrong with you?”
Sukuna’s voice was not mocking anymore, but to Yuuji it felt like it. In the lilt of concern and confusion in the deeper baritone, the loosening of the grip on Yuuji’s wrist, Yuuji thought this was another way to get Yuuji to curl up into himself even more.
“It hurts,” Yuuji said, pained and near tearing up at Sukuna. The curse thought he had meant the grip on his wrist, so he let go entirely (even when usually he’d do worse), but Yuuji had felt the hurt in his chest to see how now of all times, Sukuna seemed to care when this whole time he hadn’t. He waited until Yuuji broke down to fragments and in tears to care, and it probably was entertaining for Sukuna, deep down. There wasn’t any other logical explanation about it for Yuuji.
“... It hurts when you seem to care now. Not when you keep fucking me over. Look, I love Fushiguro, he’s a dear friend to me and nothing could make me hate him even when it felt like you’re trying to put me against him somehow but why can’t you love… me?”
“You?” Sukuna had repeated in an amused tone, and it only made Yuuji’s face contort even more in regret and disgust to himself rather than towards Sukuna.
“Forget it,” Yuuji had said, knowing this was dumb in the first place to expect Sukuna to switch sides. It was stupid of him to try since day 1 to befriend Sukuna, even more so to make him fall for Yuuji.
“It’s probably just Stockholm syndrome situation cause why the fuck am I hurting myself by trying to hope for something that probably won’t happen? If I could just delete this emotion with a push of a button, I would, cause let me tell you, Sukuna. It’s not fun at all to be me, unlovable as I am, to be in such a one sided shit. You’re my captor, you feed off of my insecurity, and I’m just a vessel that you would just use for the sake of it, right? Right. Why can’t I fucking solidify that idea in my stupid head?” Yuuji started to gradually raise his voice, completely tuning out Sukuna’s presence right in front of him that was kneeling to his level since he came down his throne. Now, Yuuji was more annoyed and frustrated than sad or pained. It was all about how he was stupid, and how he was useless and was hoping for the Moon to fall on his lap, instead of blaming Sukuna for not caring about him and not loving him or at the very least, lusting over him since that seemed the closest to love that a damned curse would have for you.
Yuuji harshly rubbed his eyes to avoid any stray tears escaping, and Sukuna frowned at it from how uneasy it felt to see Yuuji only ever causing himself more physical pain as one of the only ways he knew how to avoid his emotional pain.
“Why?” Sukuna asked.
He was now well curious about the situation, softened up against his own volition, too. Somehow he can’t bear seeing Yuuji, who was always so bright and happy, or snarky and annoying at best, losing himself. He could see Yuuji’s soul shaking and threatened to break and he knew if his soul had ceased to be shards, Yuuji might just be beyond repair.
Sukuna didn’t think he’d be feeling like this but even without the excuse of Yuuji being his vessel, he needed the boy’s presence. Somehow. He didn’t know why. But even when Yuuji stopped visiting his domain, he started to feel like he needed Yuuji to be there and if it weren’t for the fact that he was residing in his body, he probably wouldn’t be at peace until he got Yuuji by his side.
“Why?” Yuuji repeated Sukuna’s question, scoffed at it. He then looked at Sukuna with a frown, but whenever he looked at the curse, he always find himself observing every detail of that face and he hated that.
For a second, he actually contemplated answering the why of the question. Why he fell for Sukuna. Why Sukuna of all beings. Why he was so agitated by his love not being reciprocated. Why they’re in this situation.
“What’s the point?” was eventually what he spat out, “I’m not him. I’ll never be him.”
Sukuna instinctively reached out to take Yuuji’s hand. It wasn’t the first time they’d be holding each other because sometimes when he hang around, they lean into each other, play with each other’s hair (mostly Yuuji did it to Sukuna but now he realized that Yuuji stopped after a few months), draw on their hands with the tips of their fingers absentmindedly while talking—it was almost normal, because it was normal for Yuuji. It was a habit of his that Sukuna adopted.
But to his surprise, Yuuji flinched away before Sukuna could even take his hand. He looked angry, almost.
“If you’re trying to place even more shame in my conscience then you can stop trying to be nice. At this point, you’re mocking me,” Yuuji said, glaring then held his own hand protectively as if he was protecting himself from Sukuna.
“Are you really that repulsed of me?” he asked, pulling his hand back and looking at Yuuji’s hand and his face,
“... No, but from the way you talk every time I’m here, you sure are repulsed of me,”
He’s really that upset about it? I don’t get it. I thought I could read the boy so easily but why can’t I understand this situation?
“I don’t understand,” Sukuna said, “I’m curious as to why you didn’t just tell me that it bothered you so much. You were always so blunt, wearing your heart on your sleeve. You always seemed to say whatever, even to me,” he asked in a way that’s obvious he cared more to feed his curiosity than to actually understand Yuuji. He wanted to know everything because he can’t stand not knowing. Which was one of the reasons why he’s stuck up on Megumi’s hidden technique and what the boy had up his sleeves. He needed to know everything.
“Hah. You know what will happen if I actually tell you off about being obsessed with Fushiguro? You’d say something like Oh Megumi wouldn’t be as sensitive as you. He’d listen to you throughout but you get distracted so easily with your stupid neurodivergent brain that’s annoyingly messy. Can’t you focus and think straight for once? Brat you get so easily attached haha! How pathetic! Oh Megumi this, Megumi that,” Yuuji said with a mocking tone to imitate Sukuna, gesturing his hands around in an agitated and annoyed manner.
Sukuna looked at him now with his brows stitched even deeper together. He felt like he should pull Yuuji back down when he pushed himself on his feet and comfort him but he also felt like his touch was blocked off completely from then and there.
“I didn’t think you’d be affected that much,” Sukuna said but was ignored by Yuuji.
“You know what, for all it’s worth and for all the anxiety I felt telling you all this, I got to let off some steam by letting you know,” he muttered while walking towards the foot of the bony mountain. He bent down to take one of the skulls with two horns, one was already broken.
Sukuna had thought Yuuji was going to throw the skull to him out of anger, but Yuuji instead had broke the one intact horns before throwing aside the skull itself.
“What are you trying to do?”
“At least now you know why I stopped coming over,” he said, looking at the horn in his hand and clenching the off-white calcium to test its durability, “…Even if I’m pretty sure you won’t love me back, or would even take my feelings into consideration, at least you know. It’s too much to ask from you anyway.”
Yuuji positioned the tip of the horn to his chest, slightly to the side avoiding his sternum. But before he even did anything, he turned back to Sukuna, smiling at him with the most genuine one after so long—he was smiling even with his eyes, and Sukuna could’ve sworn he saw a glint at the edge of the boy’s eyes.
“Yuuji—” he never called him by his name. Rarely ever bothered with even his last name, more so his first name no matter how long they were acquainted. But he could see how both himself and Yuuji was slightly taken aback by it. Yuuji’s smile returned after a second, softer this time.
“Sorry for bothering you with my misplaced affection, Sukuna,” he said, taking a pause afterwards, “What a beautiful lie you are for my naive soul.”
Yuuji sighed as he said it, then plunged the horn straight to his heart. He had known how to enter the domain, but he never knew how to leave on his own volition. It’s either Sukuna would send him off or kill him off, so he knew he could kill himself to get his consciousness back to his body.
Before Sukuna could stop him, Yuuji had fallen on his knees, bleeding from both his heart and mouth which was rather symbolic and also literal coming from Yuuji especially after what he had told Sukuna. Sukuna rushed to his body, but his consciousness was already shifting out of the domain. He let Yuuji’s body fall onto his chest and he held Yuuji but it didn’t last long before Yuuji disappeared, the horn falling into the water right as the boy woke up in his body, leaving Sukuna alone again to his own thoughts.
The first light of dawn had greeted Yuuji when he woke up, feeling his head ache and his eyes wet from the tears he held back in the domain, but had slipped past his eyelids right when he woke up.
I was out all night? When did I get in the room?
Yuuji shifted slightly in his bed and stopped himself from moving when he felt his injured hand being held tightly. That had prompted him to look down to his hand, that was now neatly bandaged, being held by Fushiguro. He was sleeping on the floor with the mattress being the only pillow to his head and his hand probably being one of the few source of warmth he had.
I guess my panic attack woke him up? I don’t think he can carry me easily… Maybe Panda senpai or Gojo sensei helped? I wonder if Fushiguro had been sleeping like this since last night.
He looked around to see some of his first aid kit put to the side, next to a bowl of water and a face towel spread on the side of his nightstand, draping down the curved edge of it. Even the blood on the floor were wiped off and eventhough it wasn’t the cleanest work, it was probably because it was cleaned in the dark or relying on the dimmest light of the Moon.
“Fushiguro,” he called out softly, his voice hoarse and tired but it still managed to come through.
It took a while, but Fushiguro came to when his name was mentioned. For how he was sleeping, it was unlikely he’d be able to sleep properly so Yuuji’s voice came through his mind rather easily, unfiltered by the sleep buzzing in his brain.
“Yuuji? Yuuji— You’re finally awake,” he said, immediately straightening his back and looked awake rather quickly once he saw Yuuji’s eyes on him. He gripped his hand tighter, but loosened it again once he remembered how the palm was injured the night before.
Yuuji gave him a smile, one that would have put the Sun to shame and the one sunflowers would bend over backwards to bathe in. It was a smile with such care and reassurance, despite the state he found Yuuji in last night.
“Thank you for staying with me. You should be sleeping properly, Fushiguro. Not on the floor,” he said, prying his hand from Fushiguro’s, then putting it on top of Fushiguro’s head.
The boy had tried to push himself from the bed and sit up, to which Megumi immediately attempt to help him because it seemed that Yuuji was struggling with it—probably from the heaviness of the sleep or from actual residual ache. But from that attempt, it naturally allowed Fushiguro to also sit on the bed instead of the floor.
Fushiguro had noticed the tear marks on Yuuji’s face, then went ahead to wipe it gently. For Yuuji, he knew Fushiguro didn’t particularly liked being touchy and usually Yuuji would be the one to do these gestures to everyone else, so there was a sense of gratitude he had for Fushiguro at that.
“Gojo sensei also helped but he had left early for work reasons. You and I got exclusions from today’s activities,” he explained, then softened his voice when he asked next, “Are you feeling better?”
He could lie. He knew he could do that, because lying about things like that had grown to become a habit for Yuuji. But now that he had let Sukuna know of his heart, maybe he should actively take steps to be nicer to himself now. To be more honest.
“I think… I need a hug,” was what he asked for.
Fushiguro had gave him a small smile, then pulled Yuuji in without hesitation. Yuuji’s head found its way atop Fushiguro’s chest, comforting himself from the warmth and from the steady beat of Fushiguro’s heart. Fushiguro also found comfort in how Yuuji leaned into him like it was the only thing it mattered at the moment. The way Yuuji’s hand gripped onto his shirt, and the way Megumi reciprocated by hugging him closer and more protectively—it was a semblance of serenity they didn’t think they’d get from each other until that moment.
“It’s okay. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you earlier, but I’m here now,” Megumi whispered onto Yuuji’s head.
“I’m tired for loving too much,” he admitted, and he felt Fushiguro’s hand now caressing the back of his head.
“That’s just who you are. And everyone loves you for that. I love you for that, Itadori. But I guess some of us suck at admitting that,” he reassured with a small chuckle at the last part of his words. And it was both odd and natural for Megumi to say that. He never admitted to loving anyone, no matter platonic or romantic, but Yuuji just meant so much to him. He was the anchor in such a depressing sorcerer world, and he had silently vowed to bring Yuuji out of this void.
Yuuji had thought he was so unlovable. A part of him was actually telling himself that it made sense how Sukuna liked Fushiguro over Itadori. But maybe, just maybe, Yuuji was just not looking where he should have.
“I’m sorry for asking this, but I was wondering if you’d sleep with me,” he said, then deciding to elaborate more towards Fushiguro, “I mean… I want to go back to sleep. And you need to sleep properly too. And uhm, this feels nice,”
“You don’t need to apologize. Only say sorry if you kick me off the bed in your sleep, why don’t you?” Fushiguro said with an attempt to lighten the mood, before telling him that he’ll change the bandage before they go back to sleep.
Fushiguro got up the bed, and Yuuji himself followed suit so he could push away the blanket from under him. The curtains were pushed to the side before Megumi peeled of the stained bandage off of Yuuji’s hand, and even when he didn’t mention it to the tired, distracted boy, he noted in his mind of how the wound was completely healed with just a faint pink scar left behind despite how deep the wound was.
Reverse Cursed Technique.
He didn’t know if it was Gojo sensei, since he thought the man couldn’t use the technique on other people. He doubt Shoko came around without him waking up. Yuuji didn’t seem to know how to use the technique unless he did, but purposely avoid using it to savour the pain. And he didn’t think Sukuna would be nice enough to heal him unless it was out of annoyance how his vessel was scarred. Unless he did grow to care for him? But he decided he should worry about that much later.
Fushiguro followed how Gojo wrapped the bandage last night, being careful and being precise as he did so. Putting aside the kit, he climbed back in the bed, now properly lying next to Itadori. Usually he’d be repulsed by such closeness or from any sort of direct affection, but just like Yuuji said; this was nice. He wouldn’t quite complain about this because it felt somewhat fulfilling.
Yuuji just draped his arm over Fushiguro’s lean waist just as the blanket was on top of them, covering them from the cool morning air. Fushiguro let his arm rest over Yuuji’s shoulder, while his other was pillowing Yuuji’s neck right where the pillow stopped at his head.
Yeah. This is nice. Even if we only have each other, I think I’ll be fine. It’s fine. I’m actually fine this time. I feel safe.