Chapter Text
Megumi carefully flicks plaque from his teeth with his angled toothbrush. His other hand holds his phone where he’s watching an Indonesian action film Junpei recommended. Credit where credit is due; Junpei might not be much of a fighter yet, but his taste in martial arts films is pretty good.
Day after day, Junpei gets thrashed on the tatami by a smiling Gojou or an unsmiling Megumi. Junpei has the least combat training of any of them. Which is fair. He comes from a softer, more suburban background. Megumi actively tries not to pay attention to these things, but he did notice the way Junpei’s mother's eyes hovered over Megumi with reluctant suspicion, the way she talked about those boys at school with such a tightness in the corners of her lips that bullying seemed a fair conclusion to draw. Rather than hone his skills, Junpei seems to have curled inward when put under duress, drawing his mind behind the barricade of sharp, flat eyes. He's built a wiry and barbed emotional strength over a physical one in consequence.
That habitual withdrawal during battle makes it hard to help him, in some ways. Hard to relate to him as well. Megumi has never been bullied. He’s probably been a bully a few times (not his fault), but he can’t relate to Junpei’s experience.
Megumi was raised outside of his clan thinking one day he might have to fight his clan to retain his freedom. It’s given him good motivation to train regularly and face the humiliation of constant losses from Gojou as he grinds his way to improvement.
Their other classmates aren’t much better. Itadori bounces back up like rubber, blood, and dirt on his face, asking for more when any hardship so much as rears its head at him. Physically, he's a monster. Mentally, he's a brick wall of calm in battle and a lunatic outside of it. An intuitive fighter who overreacts with flexible strength whenever something comes at him, his style or approach isn't something Fushiguro thinks is particularly teachable. No wonder Junpei can't relate to him. Megumi barely can.
When Junpei asked about Kugisaki’s background with fighting she only snorted. “The minute they said I’d have to fight curses to get the hell out of assland nowheresville, I signed up for jujitsu classes and started running at six am.” Truth is, Kugisaki is never long on the ground unless she’s tricking her opponent with her nails.
None of this is particularly helpful for Junpei who gets thrashed and rises with that eerie calm, looking at Gojou with a carefully blank expression.
It’s kinda creepy.
Gojou of course, is even less of a help. Only smiling, what scary eyes you have he sometimes murmurs, like he has any space to talk with the universe turning in his fractured iris.
Other than issues with fighting, Junpei is pretty okay. He’s not an annoying classmate (they have met their quota on that), keeps calm, and can even arbitrate between Itadori and Kugisaki’s nonsense because he is precisely logical in debate. And Megumi is enjoying the fight scenes in the Indonesian film he’s recommended. While some of the knockouts are plain gory, the closed location of the apartment gives him ideas for cramped combat. Though with his shikigami, it’s rare for Megumi to be unable to just make space when he wants it. Summoning an elephant into a room will do that.
Maybe he just likes the film because it’s good.
Megumi spits in the sink and rinses his toothbrush. He starts walking back to his dorm room when he hears whispering spilling from Itadori’s room and Megumi reluctantly pauses at the open crack of it.
Itadori has been weird lately. Is weird, for the record, but has been weirder.
Sometimes when he leaves his room, Megumi catches him giving a longing, heart-wrenching look backwards, as if desperate to return to something within. When Megumi glances over Itadori’s shoulder, he only ever sees the Jennifer Lawrence bikini poster and he feels a shudder crawl over his skin. Nasty.
“…he’s a good guy…… ask him…… think so?”
Megumi sighs to himself and glances into the crack, fully expecting to see Itadori talking to Jennifer.
He’s startled when instead, he’s talking to three tubes on the windowsill next to the poster. Megumi almost overlooked them because they blend in with the clutter of manga and clothes and souvenir knickknacks Itadori amasses endlessly. Inside the tubes are floating lumps, disfigured, strange… and curse like.
…What the hell?
Megumi flashes his cursed vision but doesn’t get anything from it, despite the visual confirmation. What, are they mummified? Somehow that's so much weirder.
“Ah! Fushiguro!” Itadori appears at the gap. Instead of looking guilty for talking at his weird mummified tube curses, he looks excited. “Can I talk to you?”
“…Sure.”
“Let me come out so we can talk privately.”
Megumi waits while Itadori shuts the door, uncertain why the hallway is a better location for a private conversation than in his room, but dreading the answer might be related to the curses. Are they possibly sentient? He doesn’t want to know.
“I wanted to ask you—”
No, Megumi has to ask. “Do you have curses in your room? In tubes?”
Itadori blinks at him.
“Ah. You noticed. Sorta?”
“…What does sorta mean?”
“They aren’t just curses. They’re part human too.”
Somehow this answer helps less than no answer would have.
“But they’re in tubes.”
“Yeah. I couldn’t find them bodies or anything without people asking too many weird questions.”
Bodies??? But no, hold on, Megumi has a worse question he needs to ask before anything else.
“Does Gojou know you have half-human half-curses in your room?”
“Of course!”
That’s what Megumi was afraid of.
Junpei’s door slides open as he comes out into the hallway, earbuds in his ear and glued to his phone which plays some YouTube movie commentator.
He pulls out an earbud when he sees them.
“Morning… What’s got him constipated?”
“No idea,” Itadori reassures.
“Itadori has been keeping curses in his room.”
Junpei’s mouth pops open. Then shut.
“Can we do that?”
Megumi groans, realizing that Junpei wouldn’t have the context necessary to understand Itadori’s general disregard for the rules of law. Mainly— human vs. curse.
“No, we can’t. And I don’t know why Gojou-sensei said you could.”
“They needed a home,” Itadori mutters. “They’re part human too.”
Megumi feels his frown deepening.
“You don’t think that it’s suspicious? You’re already harboring one curse, and now you’ve taken in three more. Half-curses or not, it looks strange, right? And did you put sigils or something on them? Is that why I can’t sense them?”
“Eh, you really take after Gojou-sensei. You’re smart like him.” Itadori looks so blissfully uncomprehending as if he’s never lived in a black and white world. Like because he’s curse and human because of Sukuna the rest of the world should be extended the same credit of understanding.
But that’s not how things work.
“You can’t be this naïve,” Megumi says. Because the moment the council hears… They’ve only ever looked for an excuse. He knows a thing or two about your life being decided by some council above. Clan or jujustu cenetered, it doesn't make a difference.
Junpei’s eyes flicker between Megumi and Itadori, silent as he watches their looks play out.
“Oi!”
Three pairs of eyes snap to the garden where Kugisaki stands in her running jersey among the rocks and manicured trees, towel around her sweaty neck.
“Is anyone making breakfast?” she demands. “Or are you all just going to hang around the engawa all day?”
Itadori opens his mouth but Megumi is faster.
“Itadori has been keeping sentient half-curses in his room. And talking to them. Probably about us.”
“Ha?! What the hell, Itadori?”
“Just about my day,” Itadori protests.
“That includes us, technically,” Junpei adds.
“Does Gojou-sensei know?” Kugisaki demands.
“Of course he knows,” Megumi replies, lip curled.
“Of course he knows,” Kugisaki rolls her eyes.
“I do know a lot of things. I can’t help myself! I was a great student.”
All four of them jump when Gojou seemingly appears behind them.
“What’s all the excitement so early in the morning?” Gojou asks, grin deep and wide like the ocean.
“Like you don’t know,” Megumi grunts.
Gojou smiles like Megumi amuses him on purpose. Such a sh*t.
“Yuuji-kun is on a special mission. He’s going to rehabilitate those wretched creatures to embrace their human side with his spunk and personality.” Gojou pats Itadori’s head when he says this like he’s a particularly amusing dog. Itadori twists under the hand, glancing up.
“They won’t ever hurt us, Sensei!”
“Not when you have that kind of faith in them, how could they?”
Megumi glances between his teacher and Itadori. Wondering why he let Itadori take this risk when his life is already— is always hanging in such a delicate balance.
“One of your guinea pig projects,” Megumi murmurs, accuses.
Gojou smiles that mysterious grin.
“So we just let Itadori rant about tall girls with fat asses and hope that persuades them to join our side? Genius.” Kugisaki scoffs and walks away.
“So what’s for breakfast?” Gojou asks.
“Go eat with the faculty,” Megumi snaps. “I’ve already had enough of you.”
“It’s only seven. New record.” Gojou preens.
Itadori serves them all steaming bowls of rice at a table that is pleasantly Gojou-less. Megumi cracks his egg into his bowl, trying to temper his irritation about how this day is already going. He doesn’t like the risk of Itadori trying to befriend curses. He doesn’t like the precedence it sets as a jujutsu sorcerer. What it means for them, to kill curses moving forward…
Megumi watches Itadori crack an egg into his bowl of rice and stir. Hates himself for worrying about what it means for Itadori to kill curses moving forward…
He wishes he hadn't stopped at Itadori’s door this morning.
Ah. Right.
“What did you want to ask me?” Megumi says.
“Huh?” Runny yolk drips down the side of Itadori’s open mouth as he glances over at Megumi.
Kugisaki throws a napkin at his face.
“Earlier, you said you wanted to ask me something.”
“Oh! Uh, it’s kinda private…”
What does that even mean, coming from a guy who announces his favorite body type as part of his self-intro? But Itadori’s eyes are wide and pleading. Something strange about the cant of them.
Megumi raises an eyebrow. Is he going to spit it out or not?
Itadori spits it out. “Well, I wanted to ask you… How to be a good brother.”
Megumi feels himself freeze, chopsticks buried in the golden eggy slurry.
“Eh. I didn’t know you had siblings,” Junpei says, guileless.
Kugisaki watches him with her dark eyes, flicking to Itadori and wondering what she’s missed.
“It doesn’t come up.” Speaking of, how did Itadori… “Gojou-sensei,” Megumi grits out annoyed. Just when he thought he couldn’t be more over that selfish asshole.
“Oh… Oh! Uh, yeah, it was Gojou-sensei. Right.” Itadori pinkens, rubs at his neck. Idiot probably forgot he wasn’t supposed to mention it.
“Sister, right?” Kugisaki asks. “No offense, I can’t picture another guy-you in the family.”
“Sister,” Megumi confirms. “Tsumiki. She’s… back home.”
“Right. Sorry. You were just—the only person I could think of asking.” Itadori wilts a little, looking down at his rice bowl. Megumi fights back a wave of irritation. Gojou is going around spilling all of his business, it seems. He can imagine his teacher waxing melodrama about Megumi’s tragic life. “Yes, a dead mom, dad out of the picture, and sister in a coma. Can you imagine? Poor Megumi-kun. He was lucky the day I stepped into his life…”
“Why are you asking?” Junpei’s question cuts through Megumi’s dark musings. “I thought you said you were an only child.”
Itadori stirs his rice in an anxious twist of his wrist. Looking for words, maybe. A rare activity for him as they tend to bubble up and out of his throat without passing through his brain. Like asking Megumi how to be a good brother when his sister is a coma patient, for example. Patently Itadori.
Eventually, Itadori sets his bowl down.
“I found out I have some older half-siblings. It’s kind of a crazy story and I only learned recently what was really up with my parents. It’s freaking wild but…” Itadori scrapes at his face. “I don’t know, I was trying to figure out what to do about it. Them.”
Megumi finds himself looking at Kugisaki on reflex, finding a matching glance of muted surprise. They both know about his grandfather. Itadori often whines and complains about how annoying he was telling me to be careful and live like a normal teenager. That Itadori needed to use his head. Megumi always felt a pang of sympathy for the man trying to get any of that through Itadori’s thick skull.
Now though, he wonders. Maybe on Itadori’s grandpa’s deathbed it all came up? Or a letter? That would explain the recentness, perhaps. Could even have been revealed at the delayed estate settling… Ugh. It all has a feeling of being one of those tacky dramas that Tsumiki used to watch.
Megumi’s hand reflexively finds his phone on the table, where the last conversation between them sits, unaltered. Saved for posterity. He grips the plastic.
How to be a good brother…
Was he ever a good brother? Megumi isn’t sure. He doesn’t think he was especially kind. He got into fights constantly in middle school. And in his effort to handle his own issues alone to avoid worrying her often ended up worrying her even more from being closed off. Sometimes he doesn’t think he appreciated Tsumiki until she was gone. Now she’s lost in a haze of stillness that makes him want to avoid home as much as possible. She’s a relic of stickers and old texts on his phone, and it’s a past-tense life that he aches about every time he remembers.
He wanted to become a sorcerer to stay with her. It’s why he chose Gojou and kept away from their family for so many years. Himself, Megumi never worried for. He can live anywhere, and put up with anything. But Tsumiki? She didn’t deserve to have anyone looking down their noses at her.
Still doesn’t.
Yet he spent so many nights avoiding the house, coming home late after a fight with his sh*tty classmates. What was it for?
If there was one thing… one thing…
“Spend time together,” he finds himself saying.
Itadori looks up with brown eyes that look a little golden in the morning light. “Just that? Spending time?”
“Just that… Good for someone simple like you.”
Kugisaki laughs and Junpei’s lips hitch in a slight smile.
“Yeah… I guess there was never really time to do it before.” Itadori muses. He nods. Overly serious. "Thanks Fushiguro!”
Megumi looks away, down at his food. Lukewarm rice and runny egg bits.
Weirdly, he wishes Itadori luck. However it looks. Can’t be easy with them busy on campus but maybe after this… Maybe Itadori can have something with a family. Half siblings running around and probably worrying about him endlessly, just like Tsumiki did him. Maybe Fushiguro and the rest will even meet them one day and hear apologies for their younger brother’s recklessness.
Fushiguro has put most of the incessantly inane conversations from the morning out of his head by the afternoon. He’s good at that. Compartmentalizing, keeping present. He just doesn’t see the point of lingering overlong on the pointless Gojou-laden past and familiar familial regrets.
Megumi’s working with Junpei on shikigami training today. He’s focusing on increasing his multi-summon abilities while helping Junpei explore new attacks. He has a feeling Junpei will be a better distance fighter and tries to practice attacks using his shikigami’s stingers.
While pointing out corrections, sweat beads on Megumi’s brow from summoning Nue, Bansho, and his divine dogs. Searching for distraction, Megumi takes a deep breath and asks Junpei if there are any other movies by that Indonesian director he recommends.
It’s almost unnatural the way Junpei perks up. Junpei can be flat and serious when training, like he’s battling something inside himself instead of the target before him, but touch on a topic he likes, and it’s as if he’s a butterfly shedding its protective cocoon in record time.
Not only does Megumi get another film recommendation, but he also gets a rundown on the sequel and a rating of his three worst pictures. It’s a lot of information and Megumi feels distinctively out of his depth.
He’s almost grateful when Itadori comes jogging up.
“Hey! Sensei told me to come and do stretches over here. I hope that’s cool.”
“Sure,” Megumi says, thinking he’s out of the woods on this cinema talk, but Junpei turns to Itadori.
“Isn’t Earthworm Man 3 out now? Did you see the first two?”
“I can’t wait to see it! After the double twin earthworm reveal in the second one, it’s gotta be an amazing threequel. Maybe we can see it tonight?”
“I still haven’t seen the local theatre—”
“It’s not local, it’s in the city, but if we run it’ll be faster than the bus!”
“Yeah. When you’re the one running, maybe.”
At least they're polite enough to have the conversation over Megumi’s head.
Megumi shuts his eyes. He focuses on his summons and tries to direct each of the three to do something different even when his head feels pulled in three separate directions. Itadori puts down his backpack.
Megumi hears the sound of a zipper.
“Ah,” Junpei utters.
“It’s cool if they watch, yeah?”
Megumi opens his eyes to see Itadori and angling the open backpack with the three cursed spirit tubes inside. Up close, they’re far more disfigured and hard to look at, with eyes slanting big and sideways on lumps of bulging flesh. No matter what Itadori says about their humanity, they look like curses. Lidless eyes stare out at Megumi and Junpei.
“This is Chōsō, the orange one is Eso and the green is Kechizu.”
Megumi feels immensely put off. Did he name them? Furthermore, what the hell does he think Megumi is supposed to do, his self-introduction? Bow?
Turns out Itadori has that in hand. “This is Fushiguro and Junpei. They’re super cool. They use shikigami and stuff. Thought you might like to see it.”
Itadori leans in to exactly one toe stretch—
“Why are you showing the enemy our tactics?”
“They aren’t the enemy! They’re on our side! Besides, Gojou-sensei said it was okay!”
Megumi levels a death stare across the field where their teacher effortlessly has one-foot shoving Kugisaki’s face in the dirt.
Gojou calls, “So scary! Be careful how you use that look, Megumi-kun.”
Itadori flashes everyone (including the curses in the tubes) a thumbs up and then begins to stretch.
The thumbs up does not help the way he thinks it does.
Megumi glances at an unblinking purple eye and averts his gaze.
Megumi is almost relieved for afternoon practice to be over. He’s somehow unsurprised that Itadori not only brings the tubes to their classroom-based lesson but actually sets them up on an extra chair.
Megumi relishes the hitch in Gojou’s obnoxious godlike aura as Itadori eagerly turns the tubes so those bulging eyes point at Gojou.
“I’m not sure how much they’ll gain from my boring spelunking class,” Gojou says.
“I realized there’s a lot they don’t know about the modern world, cause it’s been 150 years. Might as well start with spelunking, right?”
Gojou, for all his ridiculousness, doesn’t have a response for that. Megumi is glad to see his enabling finally backfire.
Itadori somehow convinces all of them to go into town and then shanghaies them into seeing Human Earthworm 3. Megumi subtly slows his pace to be by Kugisaki. He’s going to need someone to make side-eyes with during the film.
At the counter, Itadori holds out his fingers, “Four tickets please… wait, five!”
“Five?” Junpei asks.
“I want to put my bag on one.”
All three of his classmates give various cut-off groans.
(It’s worse when they get in there and Itadori is openly weeping at the human-worm drama and puts his hands on the tubes for comfort. Megumi swears he sees one of the fleshy lumps bump against the glass in an effort to reassure him.
Megumi hates even more that Gojou’s insane idea to teach curses compassion might actually be working.)
After the movie, they end up at Gusto, a family-style restaurant, and order some fries.
Kugisaki is naturally throwing herself into a fight with Junpei, unaware or more likely uncaring of his background in cinema, because she wants to make a point about how sh*tty the writing was for the lead girl.
She pokes a fry in his face. “Her death was completely pointless anyway! Why not bring her back at the end?”
“It was motivation for the hero—”
“Motivation to turn into a worm?!”
“The worm is a metaphor!”
Megumi sees the exact moment that Kugisaki reaches for another fry at the center of the table and clocks the huge inhuman eyes watching her from the shadow of the bag.
“Goddamnit Itadori! I’m eating right now.”
“Those are fries,” Itadori unhelpfully explains to the tube curses. “They’re super good and salty, like ocean potatoes. If you know what potatoes are. Hmm. Ocean… menma, maybe? Hey Fushiguro what’s a good old timey analogue for potatoes?”
“Aren’t the curses supposed to be super top secret?” Megumi drawls. “You have them out at the Gusto.”
“That’s why they’re in the bag,” Itadori answers, simply, and Megumi is glad he isn’t in charge of anything really important.
Kugisaki’s lip curls, and she shoves the fries away from her. “Seriously put them away. They’re putting me off the food.”
“She doesn’t mean that. I think you look great.”
“Oh, she means it—"
Itadori frowns. “Hey, Kugisaki, it’s not their fault they look like this. They’re cursed objects, but they’re still half-human. They still deserve respect.”
Megumi glances at Kugisaki, whose eyes shine with a sudden fire, and braces for the blow-up.
Her chair screeches when she stands up. She hovers a moment, expression shadowed. “I’m going to the bathroom.”
Itadori watches her go with calm eyes. As he turns the shadows from the sh*tty artificial lighting make the triangular scars on his cheeks look deeper somehow. Megumi wonders just when he stopped clocking Itadori’s roiling, poisonous curse energy as being a threat. These days it washes familiar against his own shadows.
Itadori turns back to the tubes, explaining condiments on the table in a way that Megumi thinks could be an encyclopedia of unhelpful explanations.
“You ever feed them?” Junpei asks eventually, just to break the ice.
“Nah. I don’t think they need it.”
“I just had an image of you dropping fish food for them,” Junpei replies, and he and Itadori laugh.
When Kugisaki returns. She sits down heavily and squarely looks at the half-curses.
Her eyes are serious. “What the hell are you showing them this for? A sh*tty restaurant and earthworm nightmare fuel is hardly gonna convince them humanity is worth saving. Might do the opposite.”
“You think?” Itadori rolls his neck. “I was just trying to show them everyday human stuff.”
Junpei coughs. “I wouldn’t call our lives everyday…”
“You should give them a reason to be proud of their human part,” Kugisaki says, and Itadori’s expression is already lighting up.
“You mean… It’s finally time for—”
“Yeah. It’s Big O time, baby!”
Itadori beams. “Big O time, babeeey!”
Itadori and Kugisaki unite in a pair of high fives, singing “big o time babeeey” inanely and Megumi looks mournfully at his phone, wondering if he can leave without them noticing.
The Big O Ferris wheel looms hypercolored in the dark night. Megumi is reminded of a cursed spirit, the way the colors blur and change, and realizes it might be good for him to get out of the school from time to time if that’s where his mind goes. Still, that’s no reason to do karaoke.
“Damn, Itadori. You really shelled out,” Kugisaki praises. “I’m proud of my fellow rural friend for prioritizing the ultimate Big O experience.”
“You’re sh*t at saving money, you know?” Megumi says, blunt.
“What do I need to save money for?” Itadori shrugs.
“You think Gojou will reimburse you if you say it was for the mission?” Junpei asks, already flicking through the karaoke selection in their car for a song from one of his favorite 90s films to queue.
Itadori laughs, but Megumi actually thinks Yuuji could.
The tubes are leaned against the glass of their Ferris wheel car and the beings inside twirl around, this way and that, as though unsure of whether to look outside at the stretch of light and bustle of city, or at the bright colors of the karaoke video playing over Kugisaki’s face as her alto pours through the speakers, throaty and raw.
A rollercoaster zips by below them and the screams rise up to join their booth as their compartment glides through the air. One of the creatures’ orange eyes catches the glow and it starts crying blood.
Megumi should feel disgusted. He should feel put off, but instead, he finds himself wondering about the interior world of the tubes, about really being half-curse and half-human, and what that could possibly mean in a world where to be any part of one means execution from the other.
He hates this pang of compassion. Isn’t killing curses hard enough already?
What’s he saying, that he wants it to be easy? …That’s not like him.
And Megumi muffles a sigh as he realizes maybe he was the naïve one. Asking for a black-and-white world… it’s childish. Itadori’s been more mature all along, saturated in greys, poisons, and curses. Taking humanity where it is instead of looking for spots where it isn’t.
“Fushiguro, do a duet with me!” And Megumi lets himself get pulled up by Itadori’s scarred hands, feeling only the cursed energy of his friend.
When they touch the ground, all grinning, all worn out from a night avoiding school and real issues, Megumi thinks it’s not bad to show for humanity. Even if it is a high schooler’s night out.
Of course, when Itadori enters the boys’ shared bath with the cursed tubes, Megumi promptly takes back all of his goodwill.
“They don’t need to see this!” Megumi snaps, throwing his shampoo bottle at Itadori.
“Eh? It’s it normal to bathe together?” Itadori says, completely missing the point as well as the shampoo bottle that flies over his ducked head.
Junpei, already in the shared bath water, sinks in deeper. Megumi groans and dumps a bucket of water over himself before stalking to the bath. Right, like he can relax now.
Knowing Itadori, Megumi half expects him to drop one of the glass tubes and unleash the half-curse, half-human in the bathhouse for them to deal with at the end of a long day. However, Itadori sets out the tubes gently. He lines them up and pours water over the tops of them.
He sudses himself up, then takes the extra bubbles and rubs them on the face of the tubes with more care and attention than Megumi’s seen him give anything outside of fighting.
Megumi traces the bottom of the bath with his foot, eyebrow furrowed.
“Why are you doing this, really? No mission is worth this effort. Not even from an idiot like you.”
Itadori looks up from where he’s drizzling a steady flow of water over the purple one, Chōsō, and Megumi hates himself for remembering the name. Chōsō’s purple eye is glued to Itadori, something like adoration as suds sluices off glass. Pressing close to Itadori’s calloused hand to feel the warmth.
“I dunno,” Itadori says. “I thought it would be good to spend time together.”
Spend time together?
Why…?
Ah. Forget it. Megumi will never understand Itadori.
+
