Chapter Text
Chapter 1 - The Jester of Fate
Fushiguro Megumi was tired.
It had been years – decades, even – since Sukuna was defeated. The barriers held firm. Yuuji had grown to become the strongest of them all. Nobara had hidden off somewhere. Yuta married Maki and started a family. They all had achieved the happy lives that they all intended to have.
What about him?
He was old. Frail. Weak. Trapped with regrets from the past – scars that his face will never forget. Every time he tried, the face of Sukuna would emerge from his own, remind him of his place in the world –
He hated it. He hated himself.
“Become a clown to fate, then die.” Reggie Star had cursed him.
And he’d lived out the curse exactly as the sorcerer detailed.
All he wanted was a normal life, with Tsumiki and his friends. He wanted his sister back, as childish as that sounded.
Yet, as he rots away on his deathbed, regrets surround him like a thick miasma. A disaster till the end.
He cursed himself. He cursed his naivete. He wished he could change something.
Cursed Energy flickers. Megumi coughs out blood.
Ah, right. He's dying. Sukuna’s finger was a deadly poison, after all, and it had finally chosen to rear its ugly head after decades of slowly weakening him.
He wonders if Yuuji is affected by the same affliction.
A bump, a crash, and Hana rushes into his room.
“Megumi! I told you not to use Cursed Energy!” Hana pouts.
Even now, she’s the only one who he wanted to smile for. She loved him, truly – even after knowing him – the real him. Their love held strong, despite the fact that Megumi couldn't risk extending his cursed lineage with children.
“Hah…” He grins. “I'm dying, Hana. I know it.”
“You've been saying that for the past three months! Get better already!” Hana gave a half-hearted scolding.
Megumi laughed. Deep down, he just knew he wouldn't get better this time.
“Hana…” Megumi croaks. “I once told you I'd be your right hand.”
“You have been.” Hana replied. “You've been walking alongside me all these years.”
“... I wish I could walk longer with you.” Megumi smiled.
“Don't say things like that. You’re… you’re not dying. Just sick.” Hana ran her left hand through Megumi’s hair.
Megumi’s aura flared with Cursed Energy, the most powerful anyone's ever sensed from the broody old man.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! You’re gonna–”
“I know, Hana. Let me do this… for you.”
Hana never wanted to get a prosthetic, nor regenerate her arm with Reversed Cursed Technique. Instead, she opted to take Megumi up on his offer, thinking of his statement as a wedding proposal.
In the end, it really did come to pass – yet, now, it is time for Megumi to fulfill his vow.
“I told you. I'd become your right arm.” Megumi smiled serenely. “This is how I want to die.”
A Cursed Object.
The very same way Sukuna sealed himself into twenty different fingers.
A piece of Megumi’s soul embedded, entwined with Hana’s, enough to make her feel his presence.
“Megumi! I–”
“To get started on sealing yourself into twenty fingers,” Kenjaku had once told Sukuna, “You have to focus your mind, body and spirit. It's like landing a Black Flash, but different all the same.”
“So what you’re saying is, I'd have to enter a state of extreme concentration?” Sukuna asked.
“You could say it like that, but focus on perceiving your soul. Split it into any amount of parts you want.” Kenjaku nods.
“I see.” The King of Curses hums. “Does the amount of soul put into each object have to be equal? Or do I have to put all my soul into the objects in order for myself to persist?”
“You don't need to share every bit of your soul with the objects, yes, but the less of your soul present there is, the harder it’ll be to incarnate, so be wary of that.”
Megumi didn't want to incarnate in someone else – to curse someone with the fate of being stuck with him. A failure until the end. “This way, I'll always be by your side.”
Megumi’s right arm fell off his torso, floating into the air as Cursed Energy brims throughout the entirety of the empty room. Hana sobs.
“Why do you have to do this?!” She cried. “Don't leave me here!”
Megumi’s left arm reached out to cup her cheek. Tears fell from her face as he wiped it away. “Don't cry, Hana… we’ll be together again. In the next life.”
“Megumi– I–” She leaned over, hugging his decaying body.
“I love you.” She proclaimed.
“Love is the most twisted curse of all.” Gojo once said. Megumi couldn't care less. He hoped he could do it over again. Somehow, some way. He hoped he could save the past, so that he wouldn't have to suffer as much – so that Yuuji and Nobara wouldn't have to pay for his sins.
Next time, he told himself, next time.
On December 18th, 2082, Fushiguro Megumi died of Cursed Energy poisoning within the arms of Kurusu Hana, his beloved wife.
Megumi blinks. Suddenly, he feels a lot lighter than before.
He looks around to see people, familiar and unfamiliar. There were people who'd helped against Sukuna, people he had never met.
“Didn't think you'd be the romantic type, Megumi.” The ear-prickling noise of Gojo Satoru comes into his ears.
He could see clearly again. He was in an airport.
“Gojo-sensei.” He greets.
Gojo grins. “Glad to see my favorite student made it through a happy life.”
Is this real? Fantasy? He couldn't discern it – he could only feel bits and pieces of Cursed Energy, fragments of everyone's original amount.
“Don't question it, Megumi.” Yuta’s voice rang. His senpai was now wearing his old outfit, as though they were all still at that age. He himself was wearing a haori and a white kimono with a black undershirt – the very same outfit that Sukuna had worn in the battle against Gojo.
“There you go overthinking again.” Gojo gave an exaggerated sigh. “This is the afterlife, Megumi. From what I could see down there, you had fun with everyone. Now, you can have fun with us!” He grins, “Isn't that great?”
“Why that outfit?” Maki asked, scrutinizingly, “I remember this. This was what Sukuna wore.”
“... I have no idea.” Megumi mutters.
“Aww, come on! Don't act so sulky! You've done enough of that down there.” Gojo tries to cheer him up. The man gets up from his chair and walks along the clean marble ground to his ward. “You've been good, Megumi. I'm proud of you.”
“Good?” He gestures to himself. “You call this ‘good’? I– I killed you with my own hands–”
Seeing Gojo in the flesh again brought up unpleasant memories – the ones that the remnants of Sukuna wouldn't let him forget. How he stood triumphantly before the man’s bisected corpse, grinning like a madman, saying something about “clearing his skies” like a battle-crazed maniac.
“Shh.” Gojo shushed him. “None of it was your fault. You did your best.”
“It wasn't enough.”
“It never is, if you don't let it be.”
“You were the strongest. I had the potential to rival you. Instead, I let Sukuna take control of me like an idiot, and–”
“Zip it!” A small application of Blue had caused Megumi’s mouth to involuntarily close. “I don't want to hear it. I want you to be happy.”
Megumi wasn't happy.
“Yaga and Nanami departed a while ago,” Gojo starts, “We’re waiting for Yuuji. Wanna come with us?”
“Yuuji is immortal.” Megumi shakes his head. “He'd never die, unless in combat. But he's too strong to be killed.”
“Hm. You wanna go, then?” Gojo asked. “Look, here, you've always got two options.”
“If you want to be reborn as someone new, go North. If you want to remain who you were in the past, go South.”
Megumi furrows his brows.
“You've got plenty of time to decide! You’re spending eternity with us, anyways.” Gojo drags Megumi along to the chairs, where a few people gathered.
Soon, conversation began spreading throughout the seats. Information about how it was like in the years between the last arrival, Yuta, and Megumi's time. Updates on the alive, stories from the dead – all eventually left Megumi feeling worse and worse about himself.
He'd accomplished virtually nothing, compared to what the others had done.
At least Geto had a purpose – Megumi was just living for the sake of living for all his friends. He didn't have a reason to fight, but aside from Hana dragging him to certain festivals and events to have fun, he'd mostly been wasting away.
Never achieving his true potential.
“You okay, Megumi?” Gojo asked, an eye flickering over to him.
“Just… contemplating.” His poker face served to deter any more questions.
“Going North doesn't seem so bad.” Gojo smiled. “You get to be a whole new person. A whole new life, just waiting for you. Anyone would be excited by that. It'd be good for you.”
Megumi didn't respond. A beat passes while Gojo chuckles.
“Ah, that's just my theory.” He waves his hands flippantly. “What you choose is up to you.”
The regrets he had in his past life – could it all be rectified? Could going South solve everything?
…
He didn't know.
But he'd rather suffer in the past than have regrets in the new life because he didn't do anything.
Sorry, Hana… you’ll have to wait for me.
Megumi closes his eyes. “Thank you, Gojo. I've made my choice.”
“Nice.” Gojo grins lazily. “Bye, Megumi. Good luck.”
Megumi opens his eyes.
He was in a dark void, a white spotlight beneath his feet. He didn't know where he was, nor if anything had meaning here.
So he started walking.
One step forward. One, two. One, two.
The endless darkness seemed to part for him, and him only – a nightmarish realm that seemed oddly peaceful.
Tip, tap. Tip, tap.
The sounds of shoes hitting soaked ground echoed around him.
Tip, tap. Tip, tap.
The silence of the void was deafening, surrounding him.
Tip, tap. Tip, tap.
A silhouette appeared before him.
A man cloaked in a black haori. His cursed energy felt oddly similar to his, Megumi notes.
“Is someone there?” The elder asked.
“Yeah.” Megumi replied.
“Hm.” The elder hummed, promptly turning around, revealing his face.
Megumi stumbled backwards in shock. The man was nearly identical to him in appearance – only that he was taller, his face longer, scarred, and his hair slicked back.
The elder seemed equally shocked.
“...?” They both examined each other.
“... I see.” The elder nods to himself.
Megumi stays silent.
“You’re me.” The elder proclaims. “Younger. More potential.”
Potential? What does that mean? Why would he have “more potential”?
“I’m you..?” The younger one questioned. “That doesn’t seem right.”
“I am you from the future.” The elder states.
Wait, does that mean–
Megumi instantly asked the question he’d been asking Gojo since the beginning of the year.
“Will Tsumiki be okay?”
The elder frowned.
“No. Not if you continue as you are now. You’d just end up like me.”
A pause. Both Megumi and the Elder sat in uncomfortable silence.
“How did you… get these scars?” The younger points to the ones on his face. The elder frowns.
“I–” As the Elder opened his mouth, a wave of Cursed Energy overcame him and he coughed up purple blood. The younger grimaces. Violet blood? Aren’t those exclusive to Curses?
The Elder clears his throat and tries again.
“S–”
This time, the sound of chains echo throughout the void. The Elder falls to his knees, an invisible weight bearing down upon him.
The younger looked in horror as the Elder trembled. “It seems… I can’t tell you.”
It seems that the world had imposed Binding Vows upon the future Megumi without consent. Or, perhaps, was it just a byproduct of interacting with his past?
“Listen. I think I don't have much time…” the Elder coughed up blood. “Don’t restrain yourself. Break free. Get stronger. Save everyone. Be more selfish.”
Suddenly, light breaks through the endless night. Megumi is forced to shut his eyes.
“And you’ll triumph over fate.”
The light consumes him whole.
Megumi blinks again. He was in his room again.
“Heyyyy~!” The cheerful, ear-grating voice of one Gojo Satoru echoes outside his door. “Anyone home?”
Megumi is, frankly, very confused.
He’d interacted with the future. His future. He’s been blessed? Cursed? He doesn’t know.
Opening the door, he finds Gojo holding a bag. Filled to the brim with sweets, no doubt.
“You ready for your mission?” Gojo asked.
Megumi nods. He’s dazed, but he knows what he’s supposed to be doing. Now, he can only ponder his future self’s words.
“Alrighty! Snack for good luck!” Gojo reaches into his bag and pulls out a pack of candy.
“Aren’t you supposed to be coming with me?”
“Naah, I’ve got business somewhere else.” Gojo shrugs, “But I’ll be with you in spirit!”
“Please don’t turn into a Cursed Spirit.”
“AHAHAHAH! You’re funny, Megumi, but you know that your sensei won’t go down so easily!”
Indeed, Gojo wouldn’t go down this easily, but he couldn’t help but think about how his future self ended up. Even without the scars, he could tell that he was a broken, horrified man, who’d seen far too much. Was Gojo unable to protect him?
Could Gojo fall?
No, he shouldn’t mull over it. He had to complete the mission. That’s all. He could think about this later.
As Megumi gets ready and brushes his teeth, Gojo observes him keenly. His Cursed Energy signature was somehow… different. A change had occurred. It was miniscule, but a change had genuinely occurred.
“Just what happened to you, Megumi?”
Gojo mutters to himself, before clasping his hands together and exiting the small dorm that Megumi was situated in.