Archive of Our Own

“So, this is the place?”

Megumi surveys the concrete steps leading up to a gate. 

He’s unable to peek inside from where he’s standing at the foot of the steps, but judging from the expanse of the land he can surmise the immensity of the manor.

“Yes. According to the report, this manor was used as the main house of a cult. There is no information about the cult in question, including the nature of their jobs, but it was rumored that the leader was famous for his generosity.” Ijichi-san flips the papers on his clipboard diligently, scanning through the pages. “But the cult suddenly ‘disappeared’ and nobody ever saw anyone from the manor again.” He relays, using air quotes around the word disappeared. 

“Hundred years later and this became a haunted mansion for people who have too much time on their hands.” Megumi finishes, and Ijichi-san nods beside him. 

“Like a test of courage? But it’s only recently when the curses started appearing, right?” Yuuji is cast on a golden light from the early afternoon sun. From this angle, his rose-colored hair is glowing. Megumi fights the urge to reach out and run his fingers through it.

(Keep your hands to yourself.)

He doesn’t remember when ‘Itadori’ became ‘Yuuji' in his mind. But it sounds perfect when he utters it in the stillness of his room, and feels perfect on his lips. 

It sounds right.

“They’ve probably been here for ages, but didn’t garner that much attention until months ago.” Megumi had seen the photos. Some were relatively easy to look at, the others… not so much.

The previous reports had provided ‘death by starvation' as one of the causes, which meant that the victims had no means to escape.

Ijichi-san hands him the clipboard. The most recent case is of three highschool students who went missing from ghost-hunting in the manor.

The school’s windows reported sightings of a group of Grade 3 curses mingling around, but when Grade 3 sorcerers were sent they discovered the bodies splattered haphazardly across the front door, and immediately concluded that these were most likely done by a higher grade curse.

CASE NO. 21-0846

NAME: Hirotaka Ami

AGE: 14                                     

SEX: Female

TYPE OF DEATH: Violent           

CAUSE OF DEATH: Immediate Exsanguination

MANNER OF DEATH: Grade 1 curse (Unconfirmed)

GENERAL DESCRIPTION: Eyes are closed. Left and right arms are cut from the elbow, the right lower limb is separated from the pelvis, other parts are intact. 

 

CASE NO. 21-0847

NAME: Takuya Sora

AGE: 14                                     

SEX: Male

TYPE OF DEATH: Violent           

CAUSE OF DEATH: Asphyxiation

MANNER OF DEATH: Grade 1 curse (Unconfirmed)

GENERAL DESCRIPTION: Eyes are open, petechial hemorrhaging present on the lateral surface of both left and right eyes. Purple unidentified marks present on the neck. Upper limbs are intact. Lower half of the body from the fourth lumbar vertebra is slashed. 

 

CASE NO. 21-0848

NAME: Yuki Kazuya

AGE: 14                                     

SEX: Male

TYPE OF DEATH: Suicide           

CAUSE OF DEATH: Immediate Exsanguination

MANNER OF DEATH: Self-inflicted injury

GENERAL DESCRIPTION: Eyes are closed. Longitudinal laceration of right internal jugular vein measuring 5cm in length, and 2cm in width using a pocket knife. Other body parts are intact. 

Megumi grimaces.

This universe, this constant brush of fingertips with death, demands him a state of indifference towards the living. Megumi had always found himself less inclined with intimacy, and one with destruction is no exception.

He will never get used to encountering disembodied humans, no matter how many times the world requires him to.

He feels Yuuji bristling beside him, and turns to find Yuuji looking at him with something akin to determination laced with anger. “Let’s give them hell, Fushiguro.”

Yuuji tells him, brilliant in Megumi’s shrouded world, and his heart flutters, as it has always done when hearing Yuuji’s voice. He wonders if Itadori Yuuji will ever cease to have this effect on him, someday.

(He hopes not.)

Ijichi-san gets the signal and starts chanting to lower the curtain, and the sky takes on a shade of gray.

He turns to Yuuji and nods, and together, they climb up the steps towards the gate.

It’s the biggest house Megumi had ever seen.

Yuuji must be feeling the same amount of wonder, judging from the look on his face, his mouth gaping open. 

The walk from the gate to the main doors is lengthy. There are remnants of a small garden resembling a forest surrounding them, and Megumi thinks this would’ve been a wonderful sight to look at during its glory. 

Now, trees littered around the front porch, standing tall and proud after a century of survival with mounds of dried leaves on its feet. Vines crawl on the walls, and even after they step on the genkan the veins continue until they touch the floor.

(They cling — closer and closer to every surface they touch.)

A painting hangs on the left side of the wall, chipped and soiled. 

It’s barely recognizable, but Megumi can trace the dragon underneath the dirt. Waves coil around it, and in the middle of it all is a massive koi fish, nestled comfortably between them. 

(It’s nature, isn’t it?)

A symbol of prosperity, Megumi recalls from his collection of nonfiction. Ijichi-san had said that the lord of the manor was generous. He checks the time on his phone.

1:05 P.M.

“Sorry for intruding!” Yuuji calls out behind him, bowing with his feet planted firmly on the front step. 

Megumi furrows his brows, but a wave of fondness floods in his chest. 

What an idiot.

“This is an abandoned house. There’s no one at home.”

Yuuji straightens his back and walks ahead of him. “Yeah, but it’s rude not to greet! Where are your manners, Fushiguro?”

Megumi scoffs in lieu of responding, and follows Yuuji inside the hallways. As always, Yuuji approaches things with great curiosity. Megumi watches as Yuuji sweeps his eyes over every detail of the manor, ceiling to floor to halls. 

(He wants those hazel eyes on him.)

What would it take for you to look at me, Yuuji?

The light from the outside peeks through the cracks of the sliding doors on the hallway, but Megumi feels the eerie atmosphere still. They keep walking, opening doors to check for residues in rooms, then going straight ahead. 

It’s frustrating to keep going on like this. 

They both feel the strong presence of a curse, but it’s spread throughout the manor, and they can’t exactly pinpoint its whereabouts.

But it’s definitely there.

(They remain — waiting, staying.)

“This is a really creepy house, dude. I can’t imagine living in a huge house like this. I think I’ll even have trouble trying to find people.” Yuuji tells him. He has slid a door open and is currently gazing at a small garden in the center of the manor, where a huge tree sits. Its branches reach the roof, shading them from the sky. A few boulders surround the tree, moss sticking in its crevices until you can no longer see its own surface. 

“A manor this huge has multiple families residing in it. It’s improbable that the hallways will stay empty, so you don’t need to worry about that.” You don’t need to worry about being alone, Megumi does not say.

The words stay hidden on the tip of his tongue, but he thinks Yuuji gets it nonetheless. They have learned that words do not always have to be uttered, that there are things only the eyes can unfold. 

(You will never be alone.)

Yuuji nods, and smiles at him before they proceed. Megumi walks beside him. 

(I’m always here, remember?)

They reach the part of the manor where the shoji doors turn into fully-wooden doors, and everything is more intricate. 

Gone are the plain doors of translucent paper, and instead they are adorned with murals on thick, cedarwood. It provides guaranteed security, and less vulnerability.

Megumi looks back at the opposite side where the intricacy starts, and comes to a conclusion.

“This part must be where the leader stays.” Megumi continues when Yuuji does not speak. “Normally, clans who refuse to separate decide to stay in a manor like this. However, the main branch, or the main family, per se, is almost always isolated from the lower branches, except during events. I assume it’s the same with this particular cult.”

Yuuji looks bewildered. He cocks his head to the side. “I thought they stayed here because they didn’t want to separate from each other? Doesn’t that seem contradictory?” 

Megumi resumes walking, and Yuuji’s steps fall beside him. “There are hierarchies wherever you go, even within families. This is to emphasize who gets to lead, and whose opinion doesn’t matter.”

“That’s so complicated.” Yuuji hums. He has begun tracing the murals on the walls in between rooms with the pads of his fingers, and Megumi slaps his hand away. Yuuji sticks his tongue out at him. “Was it like this in your family too?”

Megumi doesn’t falter. The Zenins have long gone to the back of his mind, and he has no business regarding them. “No. I didn’t stay in the Zenin household, remember?”

Yuuji doesn’t reward him with a response, merely nodding at him. 

The murals around them don’t seem to end, and Megumi has noticed a pattern. In every mural, there is always an element of pair. A pair of trees, a pair of birds singing to each other, a pair of foxes napping together.

(Always the two of them, no matter what.)

A mural catches his attention and he slows his steps until he stops in front of the wall. Yuuji turns to him.

“What is it?”

The sun and moon stare back at them, or rather, the sun, with its eyes gazing at them with the intensity of its being. The crescent moon faces the sun, its eyes and smile fixed on a permanent expression of wonder, as the sun lights up everything in its territory.

The moon is no exception from the light.

(It watches, basks in the warmth, smiles gently at the radiance.)

Clouds encircle them in a weaving manner, overlapping each other. The sun remains its gaze ahead, impervious to its surroundings.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Yuuji murmurs. His shoulder brushes against Megumi’s. 

Megumi wonders how Yuuji had gotten so close.

(It’s always a mystery when it comes to important things, when it comes to Yuuji.)

“Not really.”

“Why?”

“I’m not a fan of eclipses. A few people suffer eye damage from it, it gives you the false sense of security that it’s alright to stare. People should not gaze at the sun too much, even when the moon is blocking it.” Megumi parades on, his hand curling on his slacks uncomfortably. “This particular painting, for instance, is unearthly. Why is the sun staring straight ahead when the moon is obviously looking at it? Or rather, the moon shouldn’t even be facing it in the first place. No matter how you look at it, it’s not right.”

Megumi exhales, his breath coming heavily. 

There’s sweat running down his forehead, and the collar of his genkan is tight on his neck. He turns to see Yuuji gazing at him with shock drawn on the planes of his face, and after a moment, Yuuji laughs at him. 

It rings across the hall, and the echoes fly back to his ears in full force. He wants to drown in the sound, light and cheery, away from the creepy manor and the whole jujutsu world. 

“You don’t care for greetings when entering a house, but you draw the line at manners of the solar system?” 

Megumi scowls at him. “This is abandoned. I greet when it’s actually a house where its occupants are alive.”

Yuuji’s laugh slows down until soft chuckles tumble from his lips. His eyes are bright when he looks at Megumi, and the twitch on the corner of his mouth is a tell that he’s still close to bursting. 

“Well, personally, I like the painting.”

“Why?”

“It’s just pretty.” Yuuji shrugs. “And who cares about the details? Maybe the moon likes looking at the sun, and the sun knows that, so it doesn’t mind when the moon stares.”

It’s dark in the hallway they’re standing, but the sun manages to slip through the cracks of the ceiling. From this angle, the shadows on Yuuji’s face make his features sharper, stronger. 

“Maybe the sun knows one of them has to look straight ahead towards where they’re going. And everything’s alright, because the moon remains close, and it’s enough.”

(It’s enough.)

Megumi watches the way Yuuji’s lashes press on the high of his cheeks when he blinks, the way his lip curls upwards subtly, the way Yuuji observes the painting on the wall.

The painting on the wall, where the sun is facing forward and the moon is facing the sun, like it has not known anything more beautiful besides the inferno of light. 

“Is it?” 

(Is it enough— 

to stand beside you while the rest of the world is a race of who gets to you first, who gets to hurt you, who gets to take you away from me.

Is it enough— 

to look at you freely, to feel you like no one else has, to consume your warmth and all of you.

Is it?)

Yuuji finally looks at him, and Megumi’s breath catches on his throat. 

He feels desperate for an answer, even though Yuuji has never failed to give him one. He knows it as he locks his gaze with Yuuji, as they both know the language of the eyes. 

But even as the eyes unfold millions of things, there is still a part of the heart that seeks confirmation. So Yuuji says,

“Yes.”

It’s a few moments later when everything starts to go wrong.

After minutes of staring which quickly turned into an awkward encounter, Megumi decided to go back to the mission at hand. 

Murals are still plastered on the walls, always a pair between intricately woven doors. The halls don’t seem to end, just a straight line with no corners visible ahead. 

His legs are starting to cramp, and the air is becoming thick and heavy to breathe. The sweat running down his back makes his shirt stick uncomfortably to his skin, and he cranes his neck to close his eyes as he continues walking.

He tries to recall if the manor had been this long from the outside, and internally shakes his head when he remembers that he had been busy admiring the trees Yuuji kept pointing before. 

“Hey, Fushiguro.”

Megumi opens his eyes and glances at Yuuji from the corner of his eyes, confused at the wariness in his voice. Yuuji suddenly halts his steps, and Megumi twists a little to look behind him. 

There, in the middle of the dark hallway, where the cracks had significantly lessened and light had not been permitted, stands Yuuji with a stricken look on his face.

He points to the wall, and Megumi locks his gaze with the sun.

(Staring straight ahead, with the moon nestled on its side.)

“Didn’t we pass this part already? I know we stopped here before, you told me you didn’t like the painting. You told me it didn’t look right.” Yuuji is starting to ramble, his eyes darting between Megumi and the sun. 

His initial guess had been right.

It was too unnatural for a hallway to be this long, despite the manor being one of the largest Megumi had seen. The hallway won’t end, no matter how many hours they spend walking. 

He clicks his tongue, he should’ve acted sooner.

“Let’s try to go back. If my guess is right, the hallway ahead would just continue leading us here. Going the opposite way should guide us to the front door.”

Yuuji nods at him. He still looks a little disoriented, and Megumi walks beside him and brushes their shoulders to soothe him. 

The structure of the manor has definitely changed.  

They don’t see the center of it anymore, where the massive tree had stood. The shoji section is gone either, replaced by murals and wooden doors differing in patterns. 

There is only one way, and it’s the path that leads to the front door.

The door looms ahead, and Megumi lets go of the breath he’s been holding. 

Ever since the murals appeared, he has been on edge. A Grade 1 curse can’t manipulate an area this vast. The reports had based the curse level on the casualties, but seeing it now, feeling it now, this is definitely a special grade curse they’re dealing with.

He pushes the door open and finds himself gaping at the scene in front of him. 

The branches littered on the dried leaves are long gone, replaced by the red and orange hues carpeting the grass. The towering trees are dancing with the wind once more, cloaked in gold and scarlet of the autumn. 

It’s still the front lawn of the manor, but different. 

“W-what? Wasn’t this a dying forest a while ago?” Yuuji gawks beside him. The leaves crunch beneath his feet as he walks, picking up autumn leaves fluttering in the wind. “It’s all real. It’s actually autumn right now, Fushiguro.”

The sun is beginning to set, which means they’ve been walking inside for hours. Megumi takes note of the clouds gathering and the sky taking a shade of gray. 

It’s a telltale sign of a storm coming. 

Yuuji has begun indulging himself in the sound of crunching leaves on his feet when Megumi stops in his tracks.

The curtain.

He grabs Yuuji and stumbles toward the gate, and he’s not surprised to see the lack of life beyond. There are no people on sight, no lights from houses, and the atmosphere is too eerie. 

Only the sound of their heavy breaths and the wind can be heard.

“Huh? Where’s Ijichi-san? Did he leave us?” Yuuji asks beside him, sweeping his gaze through the village. “There’s no curtain either.”

“As I’ve thought, this is the work of a special grade curse. I’m not sure how it’s able to manipulate surroundings like this… like a wide-range spell. But this resembles an incomplete domain expansion.”

Megumi searches for his phone in his pocket. 

Judging from the sky, it should be around past 5.in the afternoon already, and Ijichi-san should’ve called them 2 hours ago. He unlocks his phone, and furrows his brows.

1:08 P.M.

He tries to recall the time they entered the manor. He’s sure he checked the time, because this is supposed to be a 2-hour mission.  

1:05 P.M. Does this mean they’ve been walking for just 3 minutes?

Yuuji pokes at his cheek. He sways his head to the side, and looks at Megumi with concern. “You okay, dude? We can beat this special grade curse, don’t worry!” 

Megumi exhales and closes his eyes. “That’s not…” He drags his hand on his face, trying to find a semblance of control in this situation. 

In the world outside, it’s only been three minutes.

“Fushiguro?” Yuuji straightens, confused and concerned at the same time. Megumi tries to calm himself. They’ve faced special grade curses before, they should be accustomed to them by now.

“The time here is different. Only three minutes have passed in the world outside, but I’m sure we’ve been here for four hours already. I don’t know how, but my phone still follows the time outside. There’s no signal, so I can’t call Ijichi-san either.” He explains to Yuuji, who has an increasing horror painted on his face at every information Megumi throws at him. 

“Should we just wait for Ijichi-san to find us?” 

“2 hours in their time would most likely take us one week here, so that’s not possible.” He runs his fingers through his hair. The air is becoming thick and damp, and the sun has hidden its presence behind the cumulonimbus clouds gathered in the sky. He summons his demon dog. “We should go back and exorcise the curse immediately, it looks like it’s gonna rain soon too.”

Yuuji nods at him, still looking hesitant. 

Megumi does not doubt that he remembers the first time they’ve been in an incomplete domain expansion before. There had been no other way to go out, and not enough strength to save themselves.

To save him.

Megumi remembers, clear as day. 

(The feeling of blood soaking on his shirt, the rain draining Yuuji’s blood on the ground beneath his feet, taking Yuuji’s warmth along with it.)

He observes Yuuji from the corner of his eyes. 

“Itadori.”

“Hm?”

“Don’t worry. We’ll get out of here.”

(I’ll get you out of here this time.)

He can try to unlearn the smell of the rotting bodies that day. The look on the mother’s face when she found out her son’s body couldn’t be salvaged. The way towards the exit where his demon dog had guided them. 

But some things catch up to you no matter how fast you’re going, even if you don’t want them. Things will eventually haunt you in your dreams. The difference is his fear takes a form, and it’s too solid. Too real.

Too cold.

The smile Yuuji gives him is something he would never dare to forget.

Megumi is frustrated.

The manor had started reconstructing itself, and there are additional hallways alongside the previous one. He still can’t pinpoint the curse’s exact location, but the presence is constantly getting stronger, surrounding the whole manor. 

He suspects the curse might be going in their direction. Good, he thinks, at least they’ll be leaving these creepy hallways sooner.

Oddly enough, the hallways always lead them to the same location: the eclipse mural. No matter how many times the hallways fabricate themselves, they would end up staring at the mural. 

Its layout didn’t change either. 

The murals of paired entities on the wall, doors with the golden handles. For the fifth time, Megumi stands in front of the eclipse. His eyes land on the door beside it.

It’s a plain, wooden sliding door, stretching from ceiling to floor, and has an earthy brown color. Despite its age, the wooden polish flourishes, making the door appear enticing. His hand inches closer where the antique handle lies, golden and glinting, when a thud snaps him out of it.

Yuuji crouches opposite of him, holding a hand on the wall to support himself as he continues heaving. 

“Itadori!”

“I’m fine.” Yuuji assures, but it’s usually the first sign that tells Megumi that he’s actually not fine. Still, Megumi does not have an ounce of idea of what’s happening in front of him.

He holds Yuuji’s arm gently, afraid he might accidentally hurt him. “What happened?” 

When Yuuji tries to stand by himself, he fails spectacularly. His weight drapes across Megumi, and Megumi barely has time to catch him and place a hand on his waist to steady both of them.

Yuuji tries to speak, and when it’s proven he can’t, Megumi sits him on the floor. Megumi’s distress is slowly rocketing, the curse could be everywhere and it’s a mystery why Yuuji is acting this way. 

Most importantly, Yuuji can’t even speak.

“The walls... soupy…” Yuuji slurs. His eyes are half-lidded, and his head is craning to rest on the wall. 

Soupy? 

The demon dog growls beside Megumi, and the shadows rumble beneath him, poised to attack on the signal of their master.

He whirls around and frantically searches the hallway, looking for the special grade curse. But there is not a solid thing his gaze lands on, nothing that is out of place. And suddenly— 

A screech, low and gravelly, pierces through the air like a knife. The presence is everywhere.

The floor starts quaking, and Megumi feels like he’s submerged underwater. The demon dog stands guard in front of Yuuji. The haziness makes his swim vision and he’s on his knees, squeezing his eyes shut to get rid of the urge to empty his stomach. The screech rings in his ears, louder and louder, and crawls up his skin.

As his head hits the ground, the last thing he sees is Yuuji’s sleeping face and his demon dog weaving itself with the shadow once again.

He finds himself standing in the same hallway.

It’s dark, but he notes that Yuuji is nowhere in sight. The walls aren’t swimming with vines, and there are no traces of dirt hiding in the cracks on the ground. Is he dreaming? The last thing he remembers is the wobbling manor with the screech of the curse. 

He should be waking up soon. 

The curse could be near where his body is sleeping, and he doesn’t want to indulge in the thoughts of what could happen if his consciousness fails to resurface. 

He still has a promise to fulfill to get Yuuji out of here.

The sight of the eclipse mural invades his musing, and his gaze latches on the sliding doors beside it. Now back in its glory, it looks daunting, shiny, and almost black. This time, the door is ajar, and Megumi can see light through the small opening. 

He hears noises inside and he slows his steps. 

From what he can surmise, there are multiple people behind the door. He furrows his brows as he recognizes the sounds akin to pain, and he peeks one eye through the opening.

Megumi freezes.

The room is tinted in yellow; rows of lanterns hanging in the ceiling. On the opposite end of the room on top of the stairs, two dragons circle a statue of a god Megumi is unfamiliar with, and they diverge towards the ceiling. Another mural is emblazoned above, but his focus lies elsewhere.

Because there, in the center of it all, are naked bodies strewn on the floor.

Some of them are tied in ropes, kneeling and panting, but the others are lying on the ground. 

At first glance, he thinks they’re being tortured. Slashed with a whip, maybe. The cuts on their backs are open, fresh, and left to fester. But from this perspective, he realizes the sounds are not of pain, but of pleasure. 

He watches in horror as they mingle — women lapping each other’s tits, men fucking each other’s mouths, and cocks being shoved in cunts. 

Like a whorehouse, Megumi’s brain supplies.

Are those prostitutes? He was sure this was a cult house, but Ijichi-san had mentioned they didn’t know the nature of the cult.

He remembers the cult lord being generous. Was this the type of generosity he had subjected himself to?

He has a minute to think ‘What the fuck?' before his gaze lands on the spectacle at the core: a man sitting leisurely on a chair in front of the altar. He has a defined body and lean fit, with a pair of dragon earrings circling his lobes. But Megumi can only stare at the strikingly green eyes that sweep through the area. 

He looks beautiful, and Megumi supposes that he’s probably someone important.

He has men and women flocking to him, their hands trailing on his chest, his groin, every surface their hands can reach. He makes out with a woman on his left, while a man laps at his neck.

Megumi watches as the man’s hand disappears on the hair of a woman sitting between his legs, and Megumi can just guess what she’s doing. 

He shouldn’t be here. 

He should leave, but with every caress, every kiss, and every nip, Megumi wonders if they’re really just fucking. Because when he looks at how soft their fingertips trail, how they look at the man in reverence, it almost looks like worship.

He shifts his focus on the altar behind them, on the enormous statue looking down upon the exhibition. It's made of gold, its skin glowing, and its pair of dragon earrings catching the lantern lights.  

(A pair of dragon earrings, circling his lobes. Like—)

We do not know the nature of the cult.

A wave of memories sifts through his mind; fast, one by one. 

The manor. A woman with her arms around a man. Mass of people kneeling.

“We cannot thank you enough for your kindness.”

“Please, you have no need to thank me.”

“No, no—“

“Whatever it is all of you desire, I will provide it.”

A statue. Golden. A pair of dragon earrings circling its lobes. 

“We offer this to you, my lord.”

“Oh, this is too much!”

“From now on, we will devote our lives to you.”

(People shouldn’t be too quick to offer themselves, you know?)

The gates. A man and a woman standing on the stairs. The people looking up at them.

“We will be your followers.”

“You are all permitted to enter the manor.”

“Yes, my God.”

(But humans are fickle things. You show them kindness, and they crave it.)

“Was it an assassination?”

“There was blood on the floor.”

“My God, your wife—“

(Once, when they visited an abandoned temple, Yuuji had asked Gojo-sensei.

“Sensei, when a god falls, what do they become?” 

Gojo-sensei answered, “They stray far away from their purpose, Yuuji. And when you start losing hope, you stop living too.” 

Megumi did not understand it at the time.)

Megumi refocuses on the statue. It peers down at them still, but now it seems more unsettling. The shadows flicker, swallowing the gold in the dark, and Megumi’s skin prickles.

It was the same statue playing in the back of his mind. 

This time, the memory is of a lone man inside a room. He’s flinging objects in the air, and broken glasses dent the wooden walls. There is screaming, but from Megumi’s perspective, it sounds muted. People enter the room to grab his hands, and Megumi wonders if they’re telling him to calm down.

(“What do their followers become, then?”)

Everything is murky, and Megumi can only make out blurry faces.

But he hears it nonetheless.

(“Faith is the spine of religion. They can divert to other gods, but no one has the right to hinder faith from chasing its ruler.”)

“My God, however you want to live, we will follow you. Our lives are yours.”

(The former is the lesser of two evils.)

He gasps so hard he almost chokes. 

He didn’t notice when he stopped breathing, but the rush of air on his lungs makes his brain kick into overdrive.

Obviously, those are not his memories. But he’s unable to think of a way how the memories were passed in his dream, but most importantly— 

His gaze searches through the room frantically. He eyes the bodies, pressed together with sweat mixing. Their mouths, tongues exploring every plane and creases of each other. 

Megumi heaves. 

His forehead is damp with sweat and he swallows the bile that threatens to surface on his tongue.

Those are families.

Some of them are members of the same descent, and all of them are fucking each other.

He stays frozen on the front door, and studies the man sitting in the center.

(A pair of dragons, circling his lobes.)

It’s the man in his memories, the lord of this manor. 

The statue of the god who watches everything unfold. The god who, even when drowning in devotion as he thrusts in the man in front of him, still echoes the shadow of death in his face.

When the man raises his head, he peers straight at Megumi, and Megumi’s heart drops at his feet. His breath catches, and he tightens his hold on the handle. 

This is what he gets for peeping.

Who knows what would happen if the man called him. But the man continues thrusting, as he lets his people adore him, his eyes locked on Megumi.

Slowly, his mouth curls on a lazy smirk. Megumi hears a faint sound of alarm bells ringing in the back of his mind. The man is sinister when he speaks.

No one hears it, and no one notices. But Megumi reads the words in his mouth.

“You know what to do, don’t you?”

He wakes up with a start.

For a moment, he feels disoriented. His head feels light and made of wool, and there’s a constant delicate pressure on his head. He’s sure he passed out on the ground, but the floor beneath his head feels soft and warm.

The sight of Yuuji welcomes him when he opens his eyes, and Yuuji continues stroking his hair. Faintly, Megumi wants to return to unconsciousness, and isn’t that great.

This is what he had always wanted to wake up to.

“Fushiguro…” Yuuji murmurs when Megumi starts dozing off once more, and Megumi’s eyes snap open. At once, the memories of his dream resurge, bringing horror and unease. 

Yuuji must’ve felt him tensing, because he drags his nails on Megumi’s scalp. Like how he knows Megumi likes. 

“I… I had a dream when I fainted earlier. Before you woke up.” Yuuji mumbles. His other hand is placed on Megumi’s chest, and Megumi fears Yuuji had sensed the moment his heart skipped a beat.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Megumi swallows. “Tell me?”

“I was here in the hallway too, in front of the eclipse.” He has a distant look on his face as he recalls his dream, and Megumi’s blood is freezing cold in his veins. “The door this time is open, and didn’t you know. It was the biggest room so far.”

“What happened?” 

Yuuji curls his hand on his chest. “I saw the memories of this manor, Fushiguro. The lord, his followers, his divinity. His wife, and his descent into madness.” 

Megumi knows what’s coming. He wants to stop Yuuji from confirming it, even though he’s the one who asked him to.

“The room... I saw the room. The people there…” Yuuji’s face flames. On another day, Megumi would wonder how he’s allowed to lay on the lap of a beautiful boy like this, but the awe in him is completely drowned by his horror at their situation.

You know what to do, don’t you?

No. No, no, no—

“They’re all naked!” Yuuji’s face is painted with mortification. “Men and women, even those of the same family... And then I saw the lord–“

Megumi interrupts him. “On the center, sitting as his followers continue caressing him.”

Yuuji stares at him in disbelief. “You saw it too?”

“I dreamt of it. D-did the lord tell you something?”

You know what to do, don’t— 

“He told me I knew what to do. But I–“ Yuuji cuts himself off. His face is burning red until it disappears on his collar, and Megumi’s heart somersaults in his chest. 

The fact that Yuuji’s blushing due to the implications.

(You’d like this, wouldn’t you?)

Megumi abruptly stands up. He swore to get him out of here, but this is… He can’t.

He wouldn’t.

“Fushiguro?” Yuuji is staring at him from the floor, and his eyes are nervous. “W-what should we do?”

Megumi stares at the ground. He doesn’t know.

Fuck. He has no idea how to get out of this.

“Fushiguro?” Yuuji calls for him again, and Megumi clenches his fist at how he sounds so small, so scared, but all Megumi can think about is the fact that they’re alone.

“We’re going to check the room first. If the curse is there, we exorcise it.”

“But if not?”

But if not.

(Go on. You’ve always claimed what you deemed yours, remember?)

“We’ll figure it out from there.”

The walk to the door is tense, and the world seems slower than usual. 

It feels like hours have passed, even though the door is essentially just beside the mural. 

Strange, Megumi muses. The door looks rundown and unassuming, covered with dirt, but Megumi feels terror grip him like a vice. What would happen if the curse wasn't there? The presence feels the strongest right now, but he doesn’t expect it to appear any minute. 

He wonders if the theory in his head is correct.

He hopes not.

(Do you really?)

Yuuji holds the handle because Megumi had spent a long time staring at it, and he pushes the door open. Megumi’s eyes stay locked on the ground, but he hears the moment Yuuji’s breath gets stuck on his throat.

He stares at the floor. Hard.

In retrospect, the logical thing to do is to get on with it. Waiting for Ijichi-san to send reinforcements would take them a week. 

The way to get out of here is crystal clear. It’s too clear that Megumi has a hard time looking at it, much like he’s having a hard time looking at Yuuji right now. 

Yuuji’s first step has him raising his head, and he watches as Yuuji crosses the room. 

It really is impressive. The windows on the opposite wall are open, and the few vines and dried leaves littered on the ground give it a wonderful touch.

How convenient.

The sky is almost dark now, and the leaves scatter as the wind picks up. Now that there are no distractions, Megumi can make out the mural adorning the center of the ceiling. 

The manor really has a theme.

A pair of dragons circling each other is painted above, and they almost look like they’re cuddling. Aside from that, the rest of their surroundings are made of clouds. The altar is still intact, the statue standing proud with its dragons circling it. The lanterns and floor lamps are still present, but Megumi has no means of lighting them.

Everything is completely the same, but different. 

There are no people tied in ropes, no naked bodies lying on the ground, and there is no god in the center. Yuuji turns around and fixes his gaze on Megumi. 

“Um, I don’t know what I expected. Uh…” Yuuji looks bashful, his cheeks turning an adorable shade of pink. His hand is scratching his neck, and Megumi internally berates himself for staring at his throat.

Megumi shifts on his feet. “Well, let’s… let’s discuss our options first. We can wait until Ijichi-san sends reinforcements, but that will take us a week. We have no food or water, and I doubt this place has some. Hunting the curse is impossible either, with the walls stretching infinitely.” 

Yuuji’s eyes are wide, and they seem to be glowing in the dark. He’s staring at Megumi so intently. Waiting for the bomb to drop, probably. “Or?”

“Or.” Megumi swallows. The temperature of the room is getting to him, and his gakuran is pressing on his skin uncomfortably. 

It’s too hot. 

“You saw the memories, didn’t you? It’s the only way to summon the curse.”

It’s the only way to summon the curse, and it’s going to destroy him completely. 

Dammit.

Megumi curses himself for being involved in the jujutsu world, curses the higher-ups for assigning this mission to them, and curses Gojo-sensei for his absence.

“Tell me.” 

Yuuji sounds scared, and Megumi is so terrified. Megumi knows that Yuuji is aware of what’s coming. He just needs to make sure, to confirm they’re on the same page, because there will be no going back. And— 

And Megumi does not know how they can get out of this unscathed, how they can solve this without their relationship turning irreparable. Yuuji is his friend, he might even say he’s his bestfriend. 

And because he’s his bestfriend, Megumi tells him straight.

“Or we could fuck to summon the curse.”

The sound of leaves fluttering reaches their ears. The air cools, and his skin feels cold.

Yuuji doesn’t speak.

“The curse feeds on the sensation of mating, it’s what its owner had subjected himself to until his death.” Yuuji is still staring at him, and Megumi’s voice turns desperate. “Don’t worry. We’ll stop once the curse appears, then we’ll exorcise it from there.”

“Fushiguro?”

Megumi’s breaths come heavily, and his mouth is so dry, and he wants to gulp gallons of water. He wants to drown in the pool. 

“Fushiguro, hey.” Yuuji takes tentative steps towards him, his hands poised in the air like he’s approaching a wounded animal. Megumi wants to laugh at the situation, but his throat is closing up. 

Yuuji reaches him and stops centimeters in front of him. 

“Hey”, Yuuji murmurs, because he always knows what Megumi needs, and right now Megumi is close to tears, “It’s gonna be fine, Fushiguro. I trust you.”

Stupid, stupid Yuuji. 

Doesn’t he know what his words do to Megumi? Doesn’t he know Megumi’s lingering stares on places he’s hidden from the world, wondering what it would be like to feel the skin underneath his clothes?  

(But that’s what you want to hear. What you want him to say.)

Comforting Megumi, even when the corner of his mouth trembles as he tries to smile.

Megumi has no idea how Yuuji can keep it together.

But what he does know is that the person standing in front of him, baring himself vulnerable, is the idiot who swallowed a curse just to save him. The classmate who has stacks of manga under his bed. The friend who always steals his food during dinner. But more than anything, the person standing in front of him—that’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

That’s Yuuji.

So Megumi has to ask, needs to make sure before he proceeds to tear down the one thing he treasures the most.

He reaches out and touches Yuuji’s cheek. His fingers are so cold it almost burns.

“Are you sure?”

Yuuji leans on his touch, and Megumi’s heart stutters. 

Yuuji’s smile is muted but gentle. He doesn’t tell Megumi that they don’t really have a choice, that they won’t be able to survive if they don’t do this.

(In return, you don't tell him that there is nothing you would rather do.)

“Yes, Fushiguro. I’m sure, because it’s you.”

Because it’s you.

Megumi doesn’t bother asking the intricacies of what Yuuji had meant, because like a chasm, he feels the waves flood over. 

He pushes forward, pressing their bodies closer together until Yuuji is seized between him and the altar. 

And then, he kisses Yuuji. 

When their lips merge, Megumi doesn’t feel the fireworks that come when you’ve finally held something you’ve been wanting for so long. He doesn’t sense the butterflies in his stomach Nobara had told him she felt when she first kissed Maki.

Instead— 

It’s the warm press of his mouth on Yuuji’s dry, chapped lips. The taste of their sweats intermingling on his tongue.The sensation of teeth clacking against each other. 

And Megumi has never felt something so breathtaking.

He will never know, from this moment on, if the beauty of Yuuji’s lips is from their softness or the words he speaks. 

Yuuji follows his lead, sucking his lower lip when he sinks his teeth into Yuuji’s mouth. Widening his mouth further when Megumi probes it open with his tongue.

Megumi is the first to break apart, and revels as Yuuji chases his mouth. 

“W-we should lie down. I think.” He internally berates himself for stuttering, but Yuuji is just waiting for him, and Megumi wonders if this is Yuuji’s first kiss.

And there lies the problem: who would be the one receiving?

Megumi has no idea if Yuuji had prior experience with this, or if his knowledge about this thing goes beyond what porn can offer. He certainly has a few. 

More than a few, actually.

It was a one-time thing, when he was in middle school. Supposedly a passing moment. His classmate had been curious, and Megumi didn’t mind. But it felt good—seeing a person look debauched just from his fingers. 

When he entered high school, it became easier. Gojo-sensei probably knows, but he doesn’t care what Megumi does outside of jujutsu. 

You don’t need to clean up that much when you’re the one giving, but he’s not an asshole so he still helps. He doesn’t stay, though. 

He never does.

He wants to ask, but Yuuji suddenly speaks and Megumi feels like god has come down to punish him for his one-night stands.

“I’ve never done this… before.” 

Yuuji stares at the ground, slightly covered with rubbles and dust. 

“What?” Megumi whispers, because his world has tilted on its axis. 

“I’ve never done anything before this. Just…” Yuuji curls on himself. “I just thought you should know.”

“Even a kiss?”

Yuuji turns his head away, but Megumi can see the tips of his ears turning pink. “That was my first.”

Megumi shouldn’t. He shouldn’t.

But his heart soars at the knowledge that he’s Yuuji’s first everything. He gets to take all of him, gets to see him in his most reduced, vulnerable state, and Megumi should punch himself for feeling this way.

Here Yuuji is, baring himself for Megumi to take, and Megumi can’t help but take advantage of it.

Fuck. He chews on his lip.

He’s watching Yuuji so he sees the instant when Yuuji becomes resolved. Yuuji turns to him, his eyes glowing, and Megumi cannot fathom how someone could be so beautiful. 

“So, please. F-Fushiguro, please take care of me.” 

Megumi refuses to gasp, to groan, to react in any way, so in the end it’s his own lip that is split when he bites clear through. 

Temptation comes in the form of a boy with pink hair and a big heart, and Megumi has always been selfish. So he doesn’t think of his next moves after that.

(Go on. Make him yours.)

He surges forward once more, their lips clashing in the filthiest, most obscene kiss Megumi’s ever had. He’s sure the statue is digging painfully hard on Yuuji’s back where he’s pressing him close, but the sounds Yuuji makes keep him distracted. 

He leans away and removes his gakuran, leaving him on his white undershirt. 

Yuuji must’ve taken it as a signal to start, because his eyes widen fractionally and his breathing quickens. Megumi makes a poor attempt at placating him over his hazy-filled mind.

“Uh, no, uh. Just so you don’t have to directly lie down on the ground.” 

Yuuji nods in a daze, and Megumi lays his gakuran on the floor, leading Yuuji gently to lie down. Yuuji’s always been the bulkier between them, but Megumi is taller, his shoulders wider, and his gakuran completely covers Yuuji’s body underneath. 

Megumi kneels beside Yuuji. 

Yuuji stares at him expectantly, his big eyes locked on him, lips parted and cheeks flushed. Megumi’s already hard from kissing Yuuji, and his cock twitches at the sight.

“Itadori–”

“C-Can we use our first names?” Yuuji mumbles. He’s looking anywhere besides Megumi, and Megumi has to bite his sore lip to stop himself from cooing. 

Fuck. He’s so cute.

“Sure.” He smiles fondly at the way Yuuji beams at him. “Can you spread your legs for me, Yuuji?”

Immediately, Yuuji’s face flames in full force, and he nods stiffly. Slowly, Megumi guides Yuuji’s legs open to accommodate him in between. He keeps his eyes on Yuuji’s face, and notes how Yuuji’s eyes focus intently on his moves. 

No doubt he’s nervous, they all are during their first times. Megumi is, too. But it’s not the same.

He has imagined loving Yuuji in many different ways, but never like this.

Inside an incomplete domain expansion in a century-old manor, as the sky continues to darken and curtains them in black. 

The room is dark. 

No stars nor moon outside, but the occasional lightning outside illuminates them. Megumi can outline Yuuji’s face, still staring at him. 

Too trusting.

Maybe it’s better like this. Megumi won’t have to witness clearly how devastated Yuuji would look as his first gets taken away by his friend. 

Since it has come to this, he wants to make this good for Yuuji. Good enough that Yuuji won’t forget. 

This is a place of worship, and that’s exactly what he intends to do.

“Yuuji.” 

“M-Megumi.” His heart skitters to a stop for a moment. This is the first time Yuuji has uttered his name, and the sound curls itself inside his head.

“Yuuji, I need to take off your clothes.”

Yuuji swallows. 

His hand tightens on his gakuran, and Megumi waits until Yuuji’s hand lets go. When Yuuji does, Megumi wraps his hand around the first button on the collar and opens it all the way to the last button. 

Every bit of skin, every time the lightning gleams and illuminates him inch by inch, Megumi’s heartbeat thunders. It’s too quiet and Yuuji must be hearing the pounds of his heart, must be watching the way Megumi watches him.

His tanned skin shines with sweat, and his torso lacks marks from Sukuna’s healing capabilities. Like a butterfly, Megumi traces the lines on Yuuji’s torso with his fingertips, and notes the increase in Yuuji’s breaths.

He drags his fingers until they reach the band of Yuuji’s pants, and he stares at Yuuji. 

Yuuji’s demeanor is flickering now, his determination tainted with traces of anxiety. Megumi presses a hand on his stomach and draws slow circles, and Yuuji relaxes on his touch.

“I’m going to take this off now, Yuuji. Including your boxers.” He murmurs, and Yuuji nods. His hand quivers as he takes off the button and unzips the zipper, even as he drags Yuuji’s bottoms all the way down.

Yuuji’s completely naked in front of him now. 

His legs shift on either side of Megumi, but Megumi’s eyes are locked on Yuuji’s cock. There, pressed on Yuuji’s stomach, his cock stands—pink and curved at the top. He’s leaking precome already, and dark satisfaction pools in Megumi’s gut.

“I-Is there something wrong?” Yuuji sounds nervous, and when Megumi raises his eyes he sees Yuuji’s eyebrows furrowed. Yuuji actually thinks something is wrong with his body. 

Probably the curse residing within him, but nonetheless, he’s absolutely perfect. Megumi knew he would be, and seeing the real thing up close just makes him more uncomfortable in his pants.

And because Yuuji has been nothing but honest with him, Megumi tells him the truth.

“You’re beautiful.”

Yuuji promptly sputters, and it brings a surge of confidence in Megumi. He leans forward and places both hands on either side of Yuuji’s head. “I’m going to kiss you again, Yuuji.” 

Yuuji nods, and places both hands on Megumi’s chest. But Megumi continues, because he wants to savor every bit of reaction he gets from Yuuji. “I’m going to kiss you, then I’ll take off my clothes.” 

In response, Yuuji’s eyes dart to his undershirt. 

“And then, I’m going to fuck you.” 

Yuuji inhales sharply, but Megumi doesn’t give him time. 

He pulls Yuuji back into another kiss, his arousal uncurling swiftly in his stomach. When Yuuji gasps, he takes it as a chance to venture his tongue inside, and the wet heat of Yuuji has him pressing closer and closer, until he can taste and feel every corner of Yuuji’s mouth. 

Megumi’s hands find a place on Yuuji’s hips, tightening until he hears the sweet music of Yuuji’s moan. The feeling of nails raking on his undershirt’s back, fingers curling on his hair and tugging sharply has him bordering on madness. He moves his lips lower on Yuuji’s neck, grazing and sinking his teeth. 

He can’t stop touching Yuuji everywhere. 

He’s dragging his hand on Yuuji’s chest, his stomach, his hip, back to his neck, and on his face. He’s everywhere and nowhere at once, his mind etching into memory the sensation on his thumbs as they glide on each dip and crevices. So the next time, next time he steals a glance at Yuuji his mind would know how it felt, how it tasted on his tongue.

He would never be in the dark of how wonderful it was to have Yuuji for one moment, and that will be enough.

Yuuji thumbs on the hem of his undershirt, and Megumi gets the signal. Even though Yuuji indirectly asked for it, Megumi sees him chase him, and Megumi’s heart sings. He removes his undershirt in record speed, and descends into Yuuji once again. 

He feels Yuuji’s fingertips trail on him frantically, mapping out the corners of his body, like Megumi would leave once his touches cease. Megumi wants to tell him it’s okay, that he wouldn’t go and there is nothing in this world that could separate him from Yuuji at this moment. But his hands continue kneading Yuuji’s thighs and it feels like a race against time, against each other of who could engrave each other’s touch first in the recesses of their minds.

Yuuji gasps for air. His lids are lowered, and his face down to his chest is in a wonderful shade of red. Soft, panting breaths join the whistle of the wind.

Megumi drinks in the sight.

“I’m going to prep you now.” Megumi places his hand on the ground, and a void appears beside him. When his hand resurfaces, a bottle of lube rests on his palm. 

“You use your cursed technique to keep your lube?” Yuuji gawks at him. 

“It’s for emergencies.” Megumi explains, feeling a little defensive. 

He’s glad he had kept this in the shadows, even though he didn’t need it. His previous one-night stands provided their own, but he still hid one just in case. He mentally pats himself.

Spit would do it, but he doesn’t want to hurt Yuuji. Especially not Yuuji.

He turns to Yuuji and pauses briefly. 

There’s a stricken look on Yuuji’s face that he isn’t sure how to place. Yuuji must’ve missed something, so he clarifies. “No one likes it raw.”

Yuuji doesn’t provide him an answer. He hums and slumps his head back on the floor. Strangely, Megumi feels like he has failed.

He opens the lube and the first drizzle on his fingers has him hissing. It’s too cold, and he warms it on his hands before he braces. 

Yuuji flinches when he places his hand on Yuuji’s thigh, and he drags it in a comforting manner to soothe him. “This will hurt a little bit. But I’ll make it good, I promise. Try to relax.”

Megumi murmurs, and the look Yuuji sends him makes him ache. For a second, he almost sees an expression he’s sure he has whenever he stares at Yuuji.

Longing. 

When he spreads Yuuji’s legs further and catches sight of his hole, Megumi has to bite back a moan. It looks ravishing, and Megumi wants a taste. Wants to feel Yuuji fluttering on his tongue. 

But this isn’t about him.

The first touch of his finger to the rim has Yuuji’s hips jerking, thighs threatening to close but Megumi pushes his knee against one leg. He lets his finger wander around the circle of Yuuji’s rim until he feels the tense muscles ease, and he starts pushing in.

Warm.

Megumi’s first thought is how warm Yuuji is, sucking him in until he stops in the second knuckle. Yuuji is panting heavily beneath him, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries to relax. Megumi waits until Yuuji’s breath evens, then he presses his finger all the way in. 

“Yuuji, how are you feeling?” Megumi asks, because Yuuji hasn’t spoken, or even let out any kind of sound. Yuuji opens his eyes, and looks at him. 

“F-Feels weird.” 

Megumi bites his lip. “It’s going to feel better soon, don’t worry. I said I’ll take care of you, didn’t I?”

Yuuji graces him with a smile, the one that makes his eyes crinkle. “Not really.” 

The fact that Yuuji can still joke in this situation makes Megumi’s unease subside. And God, he wants.

“Well, I will.” 

“I know. I’m glad it’s you, Megumi.” Yuuji tells him, no more than a whisper. The hand holding Yuuji’s thigh tenses, and instead of responding Megumi slowly pulls out his finger, only to thrust back in. 

Yuuji moans as he closes his eyes, and Megumi needs him to. 

He can’t afford Yuuji to see him like this. He doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, but his affection for Yuuji is leaking and it’s so obvious. It’s too obvious that it’s written all over his face because his heart is beating out of control. 

When he teases another finger inside, he tries to find the spot where he knows Yuuji would lose his mind. And Yuuji keens, his mouth forming into a sharp cry as Megumi continues stroking his prostate. 

Megumi keeps his eyes open, fixed on Yuuji’s face, watching every gasp, every sharp inhale, every press of teeth to his swollen lip. He’s never patient like this, but he wants to make this immortal. So good that Yuuji will remember him when he’s alone, when he’s with other people and think Megumi was better.

He pushes in a third finger, and it’s tight. 

So tight, and another wave of lust bursts on his spine when he thinks that he’s going to own Yuuji, going to fuck into him for the first time and feel him writhing on his cock.

He adjusts his pants a little. 

“Megumi. Megumi.” Yuuji sounds wonderful when he’s begging Megumi’s name, and so Megumi gives him what he wants. 

He would give him anything.

Megumi’s hand trembles as he undoes his pants with one hand, and he removes his finger on Yuuji to get rid of the clothing completely. Yuuji rewards him with a long whine, but when he opens his eyes he zeroes in on Megumi’s cock.

Yuuji exhales shakily, he suddenly looks on edge, so Megumi takes Yuuji’s face in his dry hand. 

“Yuuji.” Megumi hums, breathless.

Yuuji’s eyes soften in his tone, his eyelashes fluttering like butterflies. Megumi’s heart tightens in his chest once more. 

What a beautiful sight.

“You say my name like a prayer.” Yuuji whispers, like a secret the god in this room should not hear.

(Because love, for you, is larger than life. Larger than what the universe has to offer. It’s a religion. It’s fascinating.)

And because this is the final act, the final culmination of his little wishes to have Yuuji, the ramifications of his concealed devotion and reverence, Megumi can’t help himself. 

“Isn’t that what this is?”

(It’s terrifying.)

They are so close, and Megumi feels the hitch on Yuuji’s breathing. Then— 

Yuuji turns his face into the palm of Megumi’s hand for the briefest of moments. The soft pitter-patter of raindrops warbles in the air. Megumi’s breath stops in his lungs.

Yuuji’s eyes stay on him as Yuuji starts nuzzling his palm, and he feels a pair of hands on his chest. 

“Megumi.”

It’s the final nail in the coffin.

Megumi dives into a kiss as he enters Yuuji painfully slow. He feels the vibration on his lips as Yuuji moans in their kisses, but he doesn’t stop. He keeps pushing forward, gradually, bit by bit, until his hip connects with Yuuji’s ass. 

He kisses Yuuji in places he could reach—forehead, eyelids, nose, cheeks, the corner of Yuuji’s lips, and then his mouth. It’s a slow descent into madness when he licks Yuuji’s lower lip and Yuuji lets him enter once more. He keeps distracting Yuuji from the initial pain, kissing away the tears that cascade on the floor.

Yuuji feels so good around him. 

So tight, so warm, pressing on every vein on his cock and Megumi has never felt this level of ecstasy before. 

Maybe because it’s Yuuji. 

But he already feels like he’s on the edge, and all the coldness seeps out of the room. His throat is so dry, and he can’t even swallow.

“Yuuji, are you okay?” The words scratch their way out of his throat. A drop of sweat from his forehead lands on Yuuji.

“S-Slowly. After that, I-I’m good.” Yuuji grits out. He’s probably grinding his teeth together, but Megumi wants to hear him.

And then, all around them, the lanterns and lamps begin to light at once.

His head whips around, instinctively covering Yuuji with his body. But there’s no one inside the room but them, with the statue of a self-proclaimed god looking down upon. 

“Is it starting?” Yuuji asks below him, and Megumi turns to him.

The words die on his throat, because now that the room is alight, he gets to see Yuuji more clearly, in all his naked glory. 

The candles flicker. The shadows dance on Yuuji’s face, and the glow frames him in a spectacular view that sends Megumi’s heart in an uproar.

Megumi cannot imagine the gods could be so cruel.

But then again, this is not a god. This is a human who has made himself a god, whom his followers surrendered themselves and prayed to. Megumi wonders why, there’s nothing holy on the ground.

This is where curses are born.

“Looks like it. I’m going to move.” Megumi warns Yuuji, and he sees Yuuji brace himself.

The sliver of resolve on Yuuji’s face gets thrown out the window as Megumi pulls out and presses again. He keeps a steady pace, observing Yuuji’s reactions to note if he’s hurting or not. Because he doesn’t expect Yuuji to form sentences any time soon.

When Yuuji’s moans hint at the beginnings of a discontented whine, Megumi places his hand on Yuuji’s hip and starts moving faster. He quickens his thrusts until he’s slamming back and forth, until Yuuji’s shaking, hand clamped over his mouth as he tries to muffle his cries, so pretty with tears in the corner of his eyes. 

But Megumi doesn’t want that.

He wants to hear how good he makes Yuuji feel, how good he wants Megumi’s cock. He noses Yuuji’s jaw, kisses the line until he reaches Yuuji’s ears. 

“Yuuji, I want to hear you.” 

Yuuji whimpers, embarrassment coloring his tone. Megumi spurs him on. “Come on, Yuuji. I want to hear you crying for my cock.”

He feels Yuuji tighten around him, moaning now that he has removed his hand and tilting his head back. Megumi’s other hand on the floor finds Yuuji’s hip, squeezing until he’s sure it would leave marks. Yuuji would look in the mirror to find them there, and remember Megumi driving himself into him. 

He sets Yuuji’s ankles on his shoulders, and fucks into him harder. The new angle has Yuuji trembling and sobbing beneath him as Megumi continues striking his prostate. Yuuji’s hands scratch his back, and Megumi hisses at the pain. 

He feels Yuuji pull him forward into a kiss, pressing them together like he’s trying to combine their souls. The kiss is aggressive, frantic, and no longer gentle the way they did before.

It still feels heavenly.

Yuuji’s cries grow into a crescendo that crashes with the thunder outside. He hears Yuuji stutter something, and Megumi is so lost in euphoria and greed that he almost doesn’t perceive them.

“M..gu..mi.” 

Megumi curses under his breath. It’s his name that slips from Yuuji’s lips, faltering with every thrust. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of the way it sounds in Yuuji's mouth. 

Yuuji feels so good. So, so good.

Wait, no.

Good is a word you use when you eat and you like the taste between your teeth. Good is a word you hear when you get a subpar grade, even though you know you tried your best. Good fails to bound this form of paradise, this form of ultimate bliss and insanity. Good is breakable. Good is a standard.

Good cannot touch them here.

The curse can, though.

Megumi feels it before he sees it, and Yuuji does too because his eyes spring open. The shadows beneath them rise, and Megumi summons Totality.

The presence grows stronger and closer, but Megumi refuses to stop. 

A layer of atmosphere engulfs them as the curse nears. The stench of grief, anger, and envy is heavy in the air. It threatens to spring tears in his eyes, the pressure bears him down and he hears Yuuji sobbing underneath him. 

Instantly, Megumi cradles him in his arms. “Yuuji, look at me.”

But Yuuji doesn’t hear him, the mixture of emotions from the curse and sex overwhelming him. Megumi tries harder. “Keep your eyes open and focus on me, Yuuji. Don’t look at anything besides me.”

Yuuji opens his eyes and whines as he reaches for Megumi, his arms circling Megumi’s neck tightly. He’s chanting Megumi’s name, desperation and sorrow cracking his voice.

Even as Megumi ruthlessly fucks into him, even as he plows his cock in Yuuji at an unforgiving pace, it is tender when he turns his head and settles his lips on Yuuji’s temple. It is gentle yet unwavering, when he lets his gaze linger on Yuuji’s eyes to make sure Yuuji’s looking at him, to tell him that they are here, that they exist and they’re fine because they’re alive. 

The rain pours loudly outside. The wind is relentless as it thrashes around them, sending leaves flying and candles shuddering.

Yuuji’s moans reach a feverish note, and Megumi’s thrusts become frantic as he drives further and further in a collision course until he’s found a place inside Yuuji, until they’re molded together and no one can recognize them. 

The look on Yuuji’s face when he comes with a strangled cry, trembling as he empties himself, will forever echo in Megumi’s mind. 

Megumi follows right after, and he tilts Yuuji’s chin and kisses him gently, as how he had dreamed of having Yuuji long ago, when he sleeps knowing Yuuji is just a wall away, already far on his world of slumber.

A movement from his left catches his attention, and his demon dog springs to life, lunging at the fist a few meters directed at him. The curse stumbles back, a six-foot-tall beast slouching in front of them. 

Six purple eyes lock on him, the curse’s mouth curled in the shape of a snarl, its white hair reaching something resembling a waist. It almost looks human with its limbs and legs, but the monstrosity of its mouth and its gray color are distracting.

A shrill scream pierces the air, and the grief strikes them at full force. It’s the kind of cry that bypasses the ears and speaks right to the heart, but his demon dog cuts it abruptly.

“Megumi.” Yuuji calls him, but Megumi knows he can’t fight in this state. Yuuji is panting beneath him, alarmed but his eyes are closed and his arms are laying on his side.

Megumi shushes him, caressing Yuuji’s face and thumbing the remnants of tears on his eyelashes. “It’s fine, Yuuji. My demon dog will finish it.

It’s true.

The price of the curse is too much, even though Totality can exorcise it easily. It’s a special grade curse, but Megumi has fought curses much stronger, much fiercer than this.

He pulls out of Yuuji, and smoothens the furrow on Yuuji’s brow as he winces. 

Yuuji looks pretty like this.

His eyelashes clump on the high of his cheeks as his eyes remain closed. A hint of red still clings on his face, and his kiss-bitten lips part slightly. All of it entails enchanted vulnerability, and Megumi stares in wonder. 

He did that.

His heart throbs, pain so bone-deep that it spreads through his system. 

The passing thought that this will be enough, that having Yuuji like this for a moment will have his dreams fulfilled and he can sleep in bliss after this; Megumi wants to laugh. Or to cry. He doesn’t know what to do.

Because this is not what he wants.

He wants to hold him close during mornings as Yuuji cooks breakfast, and not just stand in the doorway staring at his back. He wants to take him on dates, to introduce Yuuji to everyone as his lover, to tell the whole world that this boy is mine. 

(To have the whole universe in his arms.)

He had imagined loving Yuuji in many different ways, and this will be just one of them. Taking care of him, making him feel treasured and loved, and later, they will go back to the real world, where Megumi is his bestfriend who tolerates him just enough.

And Yuuji will go on with his life, knowing that he’s loved a little more.

When Yuuji opens his eyes and gazes at him so tenderly it makes him ache, Megumi stomps down the spark that ignites in his chest. 

He’s still sitting between Yuuji’s legs. He feels Yuuji’s knuckles grazing his left leg, and something electric travels from that point where they touch. 

And then, Megumi shatters the silence. 

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry. I-I couldn’t think of another way to get us out of here, it was the only way. I’m sorry.” Yuuji stares at him in shock. His fingers still, and curls on himself. Megumi parades on. “I know you wanted to do this with someone you liked, and I’m sorry it had to be me.”

The euphoria leaves him rapidly, leaving him empty with guilt that he enjoyed it, he savored it, even when Yuuji didn’t want to do it in the first place.

“Megumi, what are you saying? I told you I’m glad it was you.” Yuuji breathes.

(But what does that mean?)

“Itadori ”, Yuuji visibly flinches, and he looks away from Megumi, “I…”

(What? What do you want to say?)

Megumi slumps. “I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t explain further. Yuuji doesn’t have to know how elated he felt, but Yuuji probably knew.

The silence is deafening. 

Megumi wants him to scream, to punch, to attack, anything. Maki-senpai once told him that there's a scream from the throat, and a scream from the soul through the eyes. When the former doesn’t work, the latter begins. But Yuuji doesn’t meet his eyes as they dress, even though Megumi wants him to. 

He keeps stealing glances, he’s good at it by now, but Yuuji doesn’t even turn to him.

He looks closed off. 

(He looks hurt.)

The curse is long gone now, and Megumi should be relieved. But he’s so on edge and terrified. The walk back to the car is tense and silent.

Yuuji still refuses to look at him, staring straight ahead.

(Because one of them has to look straight ahead towards where they’re going.)

Yuuji’s mouth was heaven to touch, to kiss, and yet what Megumi longs for is the solace of his voice.

(And everything’s alright, because the moon remains close to its side.)

It’s hardly the end of days. 

To Megumi, it feels like it.

(And it’s enough.)

Is it?

When they reach the car, Megumi narrates to Ijichi-san that they had exorcised the curse. He doesn’t tell him about the summoning, doesn’t tell him what the curse took from him. 

They enter the car and Megumi leaves the traces of his dream behind. 

Everything will go back to normal. The world will continue to live without knowing what they did. No one will know how his heart cracks with every breath he takes, how he drags his feet towards the car and how his body no longer feels familiar.

Yuuji sleeps beside him, dead to the world and unaware of Megumi’s internal musings. 

Megumi wants to pull him close, wants to crack his heart open and lay his body inside. 

(Because even though people have told you that humans can’t find a place in each other, you still wish to hide and bury yourself in his heart.)

Yuuji’s not resting his head on Megumi’s shoulder like he always does. The space beside Megumi no longer takes on Yuuji’s shape, because Yuuji sits on the far end of the seat. 

(And you will never get out again.)

Yuuji’s head rests on the window.

(He wonders if this is the moment where he loses Yuuji again.)

The clock approaches midnight, but Megumi is wide awake.

He’s sitting on the windowsill in front of his room. The book on his hand isn’t doing a fantastic job in keeping him distracted, as his thoughts keep delving back into the events earlier.

Yuuji still hasn’t talked to him, merely mumbled “Good night” before he shut the door of his room. He didn’t eat dinner either. Kugisaki asked him if something happened, but he just shrugged. She didn’t look convinced, but he was glad she immediately dropped it.

The creak of a door has him perking up, and he spots Yuuji in the hallway. He’s in his pajamas, his pink hair tangled and messy, but his eyes are alert. 

And those eyes are staring right at Megumi.

He looks tired, and it stings when Megumi notices his eyes are red-rimmed. Yuuji turns around towards the lobby, but Megumi springs to his feet.

“Itadori?” The name feels poison in his mouth. Once you have a taste, you never want to go back.

It makes Yuuji halt in his steps, and they stand in the hallway with Yuuji still on his back. 

“Itadori, are… are you okay?” Megumi asks, and grimaces. Of course, he’s not okay. But what would he say? Yuuji surely doesn’t want to talk to him, but Megumi wouldn’t be able to take it.

He couldn’t.

“I’m fine, Fushiguro,” Yuuji whispers. The selfish part of Megumi twinges at the name, even though he was the first to revert back. 

“I know you’re not.” Megumi argues, because sometimes Yuuji doesn’t want people to know, and Megumi has to break him open

He sees Yuuji’s shoulders tensing, and his fists clench. “I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me. I was thirsty, so I’m just going to the kitchen to get a drink.” 

Yuuji steps forward, but Megumi catches his wrist. 

“Let go.”

“No.”

“Fushiguro–"

“No.”

He tightens his grip on Yuuji. He feels like if he lets go now, Yuuji would go further and further away. “If you don’t want to talk about what happened, I understand. But please don’t lie and tell me you’re fine.” His voice takes on a desperate tone, and he hates how it cracks. “Please don’t lie to me.”

(Not to me, ever.)

Yuuji abruptly whirls on him, but he doesn’t remove Megumi’s hand on his wrist. His eyes are glassy now, and several emotions play on his face. He seems hurt, frustrated, and angry all at once.

“What do you want me to say, Fushiguro?!” Yuuji all but screams. “I know you didn’t mean to fuck me! I know we didn’t have a choice, and I should even be thanking you anyway. Because you were so sweet, so gentle with me because you knew it was my first time. And I was supposed to help you, but instead you ended up comforting me. And it hurts–“ Yuuji chokes on a sob. He’s full-on rambling now, and his tears spill on his cheeks like a waterfall, but all Megumi can do is watch. “It hurts whenever I think that you only did that because of a curse, because you were forced to. Because who would even want to, with me, anyway? A half-curse?! And I can’t–I can’t go on like this… knowing the guy I liked didn’t want to be with me.”

Megumi stands frozen. 

The words ring in his ears, but his brain refuses to catch up. The air around them is cold with the midnight breeze, and the moon shines on them through the window. Megumi feels like he might never take a proper breath again.

The light blinks on the tears on Yuuji’s cheeks. They still continue, cascading on the floor because Yuuji can’t catch them through his fingers. When Yuuji looks at him, Yuuji’s face breaks once more.

“P-please… please say something. Anything. ”

What would he say? Yuuji is standing in front of him, his heart on the floor and waiting for Megumi to pick it up. Megumi blinks himself out of his daze. Yuuji likes him. And apparently, Yuuji thinks that he doesn’t want to be with him.

Megumi wants to laugh.

(Tell him. You had offered yourself long ago. Mind, body, and soul. The only thing you can do now is to take a step forward, and offer the last thing you own.)

“I didn’t force myself to be with you, Yuuji. I wanted to. I still do. I always will, actually.” Megumi’s heart thunders in his chest. But oddly, he feels calm. This was going to happen, anyway. It’s too soon, but Yuuji needs to know that Megumi had never wanted anyone like this.

“What?” Yuuji whispers. His cries have ceased, but little tears still pour from his eyes. “Why?”

There are things that Megumi knows. From school, from books, from experiences. The sun rises in the East and sets in the West. He has to wake up at 7:00 A.M. because Kugisaki will threaten them with a hammer if they’re late for breakfast. The floorboards in the lobby are creaky, so he has to hop on them to avoid noises.

He likes someone. A boy. His name is Itadori Yuuji. He’s born in the same year as Megumi, but Yuuji is months older than him. 

Megumi loves him.

(Go on. Offer him your heart.)

“Because I’m in love with you.”

The dust particles settle on the floor, but some of them are suspended in the air. The light forms a halo on Yuuji, and he looks breathtaking. His hazel eyes blink at Megumi, his pupils huge in the dim light and swallowing the color in his eyes. 

Megumi has memorized his features by now.

The silence stretches between them. Seconds pass, minutes, hours, or a whole lifetime. Megumi waits.

But then Yuuji steps closer, relaxing his shoulders and letting Megumi’s hand find a home on his wrist. 

“What?”

“I love you, Yuuji.”

“Say it again.”

Yuuji is in front of him now. His voice is melodic and rough all at once. Warmth swirls inside Megumi, and his lip curls in a gentle smile. 

It is far too tender for whatever Megumi is. 

“I’m in love with you, Yuuji. I love you.”

Yuuji sniffles. “Again.”

“I love you, Itadori Yuuji.”

“Again.”

Megumi chuckles, but his cheeks flush. “You’re going to turn me into a cassette tape now.”

Yuuji launches himself at Megumi, curling his arms and legs on Megumi’s body. Megumi grunts at the weight, but holds him tightly.

“I don’t care. Say it again. Tell me, Megumi.” Yuuji mumbles, squeezing his face on Megumi’s neck.

“I love you, you idiot.” Megumi presses on Yuuji’s temple. “And don’t even think about me forcing myself to be with you. I-I liked it.” His face warms from the admission. 

Yuuji leans back and stares at him. His eyes are a picture of hope, even though he looks bashful. “Really?”

Megumi bites his lip to stop himself from grinning. He’s so cute. “Really.”

“I-I did, too.”

And because Megumi secretly likes teasing Yuuji, he doesn’t stop himself this time. His mouth twists into a shit-eating grin. “Sounded like it.” 

Yuuji’s face blooms in pink, it clashes with his hair. He slaps Megumi’s chest. “You’re so crude!” 

Megumi laughs, and Yuuji’s eyes dart to his lips. His arms surrounding Megumi tighten, and Megumi hears him swallow. 

Megumi continues staring at him, loving how close Yuuji is. He feels Yuuji’s breath ghost on his lips.

“Megumi?” Yuuji asks, but he doesn’t answer.

Instead, he crashes their lips together. 

He has kissed Yuuji multiple times now, but this is the one that sweeps him off his feet.

He continues kissing Yuuji as his hand opens the door to his room. Even as he lays Yuuji gently on his bed, as he removes their clothes and throws them on the floor, Megumi comes back to Yuuji’s lips. 

He doesn’t want to leave.

In the dappled moonlight under the sheets, he lets his soul and body weave with Yuuji until they are one and melted against each other. 

He cradles Yuuji’s face between his palms. 

He loves him so much, he would drag the stars from the sky if Yuuji asked him to. Yuuji gazes at him lovingly, so reverently and Megumi can’t decide which part he wants to touch first. It’s unusual, having this freedom to love Yuuji so openly. 

So he takes everything Yuuji offers him—every sliver of trust, every piece of hope, and every fragment of his heart.

He takes it all, until Yuuji has made a castle in him, until you can no longer tell where Megumi ends and Yuuji begins.

*

He lets his eyes see how brilliant the sun is. Even if he only watches, the sun can feel him close.

And it’s enough.