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Golden rays of the sun bloomed the evening in a honeydew amber glow. The sombre but heavy atmosphere set in a deep saturation, was oddly beautiful. Like a painful flowering blossoming in one’s heart. It’s petals furling soft against the tissues but it’s thorns pricking too hard.
That’s what Megumi thinks. Dark blue eyes shaded with an undertone of green roam around. Taking in the beautiful splash of the dying day against the city constructions. Marigold hue liquidising over the tree leaves and the sleek buildings in the distance.
The spiky-haired male lets out a long, heavy sigh as he leaned back against the bench he is sitting on. There was calmness in his gaze that peacefully studied nothing as he looked at the sky.
It was as meaningless as his thoughts and regrets.
Megumi had many regrets in his life. Never thought he would actually admit that out to himself because he doesn’t believe in fussing over things until it’s too late.
It’s always that.
He has always thought that whatever has happened in his life, he doesn’t have much feelings towards it. He’s cold-hearted and clinical enough to think forward and think about things that actually matter.
So, whatever regrets he ever had in his life, he doesn’t fuss over it because it would be useless to try to undo things that can’t be undone.
However, that doesn’t mean sadness doesn’t clung onto him like a soothing plague at the back of his mind. Like a gentle curse clawing at his back.
He didn’t care when his deadbeat of a dad left him. It didn’t matter much to him. Didn’t know him much, wasn’t much close to him, hence, didn’t matter. As long as Tsumiki was happy. But maybe at the very end quarters of his childish mind back then, he desired a proper family. Maybe a loving father. Maybe. At least for Tsumiki.
He doesn’t feel any heaviness about it though. It feels nauseating, bone-crushingly numb when he thinks about he wasn’t able to save Tsumiki.
His body feels peculiarly relaxed as he emptily dazed at the setting day. Head tipped back against the park bench, body splayed out slightly but there was an immense tightness in his chest.
It’s been an overflowing feeling. Like there isn’t anything but a hollow pain. It happens. Megumi notes to himself as if reading a factual script. It happens when sometimes things get so overwhelming to the point of passing line. You don’t even know what to feel when so much things have happened in your life.
That’s exactly what had happened with him. Though he now doesn’t remember at what point. His brain is addled sometimes whenever he stresses about it.
Dark irises dart down at his own hand. Calloused, rough with use of sorcerery and combat. However, all Megumi could see was dark, black blood curling around his fingers. Melting down like a curse. Fingers dripping down like coal tar.
‘Ah!... Yes…’, Megumi’s remembrance idly stated.
It didn’t mattered after he lost Tsumiki. His eyes still trained onto his hand. He killed her with this body.
Yes, he’s logical enough to know he was not the one but the emotions were same.
Sukuna did.
But does it matter to Megumi now in anyways?
No.
Because he can’t bring her back.
His hand slowly curl into a lose fist, resting on his knee. Staring at it with now shaking orbs.
Hence, what did matter is he wasn’t able to save her before. He didn’t cared about her before she was cursed. Not enough.
Did his potential mattered now? When he wasn’t strong enough to save her. No. It was never about strength.
He just selfishly wanted to live with his family even now.
Hence, comes his current predicament.
He had been numbed over by Tsumiki’s death long ago. It was so excruciatingly painful… his heart gave out. Caved into giving Sukuna more control.
He did came back because he can never be willing to live without Yuji. His words has always pulled him out. Therefore, he came back. Willing to protect the people left, people he cared about.
There was no running away.
Hence, he was already dead to his own emotions regarding Tsumiki when he lost her. Akin to water over-boarding over his head. Drowning through his lungs, plunging him to the depths.
The pain had already holed him apart. It didn’t matter.
Which is the reason for his present distance in his eyes.
It was fine until then. Like a zombie living in his own skin.
But then…
Until then…
Gojo.
Megumi doesn’t even want to touch his mind where it wanders off to the conceptual reality of the king of curses fighting his sensei. To the baseless actuality that it was Sukuna in his body that killed the six-eyed user because even the greatest power in the universe wouldn’t be enough to console him.
He was glad in a way. Of course. It wasn’t something to be glad about. He didn’t have the right but at least he wasn’t in control but the simple reality doesn’t fade away.
It was his body that caused his dear sensei’s death. It was through his body.
And that is something Megumi doesn’t know how to fathom.
How to cope.
Even after six full months has passed since Sukuna was gone.
The fact that it was his body that was used has destroyed him to no end. He has accepted that because Gojo fighting Sukuna would have been inevitable regardless.
“Damn”, Megumi softly uttered.
Barely audible. His vision trembling as he looked at the ground.
What he now doesn’t know is how to bear that Gojo was finally gone.
There comes his regrets again because he was never the close one. He was never the open one. He was never the one to close to Gojo. At least not verbally.
He could feel a huge hole gaping through his heart. As if someone has jutted a pole through his chest because he right now, was cursing his own damn mind to death that why couldn’t his personality be more verbal.
He wishes. He wishes!
For all he could feel right now, even after six months, is his inner walls tumbling down. Disorienting like crumbling paper walls. He could have said thank you to Gojo at least.
He could have said something akin to gratitude to Gojo.
But no.
It wasn’t just like him.
Because those mere words couldn’t equate to the haunting amount of pain he feels whenever he remembers Gojo.
He was gone now.
There was so much he wanted to say. There was so much he wishes he could have said but maybe it was due to his own stubborn self and circumstances he couldn’t!
That bastard just had to be too arrogant and go die.
Megumi’s eyes narrowed, shuddering in ache and barely held tears as he clenched his teeth. Jerking his head down.
Why now? Why now?
It evaporated his heart like acid because never in his life he thought he wouldn’t be able to see Gojo. Never in his life he thought he wouldn’t be able to express that he is thankful as fuck to the man who… who raised him and Tsumiki.
Hence, he regrets it. He regrets for thinking he had too much time, plenty of time and a lifetime with Gojo to tell him someday that…
That… he was glad he got him as a stupid substitute of a father.
Megumi never cared or desired for a family. He never cared about his own dad.
But all he could think of right now is how Gojo used to hold his hand when he used to bring him to this park.
The distance echo of him and Tsumiki playing around with that obnoxious laughter of the white-haired man shot a gasping amount of pain through him.
He doesn’t want to remember the fondness underneath Gojo’s silly expression as he often stood there, watching him and Tsumiki goof around.
‘What the hell were you thinking? I wasn’t even your real kid’, Megumi mentally scoffs to himself with a bitter laugh.
As much as Megumi never admitted it out loud but he was happy that, that idiot of that blue-eyed man was his guardian figure. He was more than glad that he was the father figure he never wanted.
The distant memory of a dinner hums around him like a cold blanket. It was at a ramen shop with Gojo dramatically draping over his small body. Poking his cheeks to annoy him.
No.
He was no father-figure. He wasn’t his guardian.
He was… family.
Megumi always thought so. He always saw him as one. Right from the moment he very suspiciously picked him and Tsumiki up.
A painful knot formed in his throat which Megumi gulped down. Resting his forehead onto his hands, his elbows on his knees.
He was his father.
He was the father he never had.
His heart ruptured in a garden of exploding needles. It was bitter, bitter regret. Cold, akin to freezing, barbed wires wrapping around his arms. He wanted to say that to him. He wanted to say that he was indeed his family.
To say that he was happy that he was a nonsensical father he didn’t even ask for.
But why now? He had held good for six months so why now? He had coped well like he always has, cooped up in his own den of coldness and moving forward. So, why now suddenly on a random evening everything regarding Gojo was hitting him like a ton of bricks. Falling down like a building.
All his younger days and now is the time he is heaving, he is realising that with air expanding his chest.
Maybe, it was this damn park.
Lifting his head he cannot help but wryly observe the seemingly peaceful park. It’s the one Gojo often brought him to.
It’s true.
Just as they say.
And he has been captured in such truth. Truth that you don’t realise things until it’s too late.
“Why did you have to care?... Sensei?”
Almost as if after a decade, Megumi felt murmuring to himself. His voice hoarse from restraining so many emotions blinking in and out of existence like a psychedelic wallpaper.
It was true. His heart stung again when he thought back how Gojo absolutely had no pressure or necessity to care about him or Tsumiki. Yet he did. Yet he cared for him like his own kid. Looked after him, even fed him as much as it annoyed a younger Megumi.
He did all that despite himself being so young, now when Megumi is the same age, he realises it.
How hard it must have been. His younger mind obviously couldn’t comprehend but now that he looks back it, he wondered how Gojo was even able to make time. Despite being young, Gojo was no ordinary sorcerer. He has always been constantly in the push and pull of responsibilities, jujutsu society, higher-ups and clan politics… so much so that at the end of the day, it took his life. In a way to look at it.
Despite, all that he made time for him. Greeted him with that senseless smile of his.
And now, after when he is gone… what had he left for him? A stupid note telling him that he was the one who killed his father.
Megumi had laughed at that. He still does because had it been any other circumstance, he might have felt something but truly he didn’t care. As always he didn’t even know who his father was.
So, he would have forgiven Gojo regardless.
Yes, he would have asked him why. He would have prodded and poked to find out but at the end of the day Megumi could never hate Gojo.
How could he?
How could he even hate the person who almost fucking raised him?
“Damn! If you just wanted to go ditch and die then maybe you shouldn’t have collected children like Pokémon”, Megumi huffed out gently with a wobbly tone.
He wasn’t the type to get emotional. So, why now!? He wasn’t the one to take time separately to process his emotions. He always let it happen automatically.
So, why now?
That thought rang in him again and again.
Suddenly, there was a humorous snort from him.
Maybe Nobara was right.
He was an emotionally constipated idiot.
Burying his eyes into the heels of his palm he hunched forward again until his elbows were resting on his knees.
He cannot help but let his mind drift off to another memory fizzing through his mind in soft pastel colours.
Flashback
“What are you doing here?”, a younger Megumi asked.
His face pulled into a deadpanned as he stared unimpressed at Gojo who was standing in his way with a dramatic pose and a devious smirk.
“Hah!? Is that some way of greeting your favourite person?”
Megumi, unfazed, watched the man exaggeratingly grumble as he sauntered towards him with a pout.
“We are in the middle of a street. Move”
Megumi says.
Gojo just sighed with mock hurt, “All that just when I came all the way here to pick you up from the school”
“Can’t you teleport or something?”
The young Zenin quipped back without sparing Gojo a glance as they both walked along regardless with the elder being slightly ahead.
“Tch”
Gojo only childishly clicked his tongue at his response.
An ice-cream parlour had suddenly caught his attention. His steps halted for a second. It was pretty with all sorts of funky colours
Giving one last look at it he just shrugged and followed Gojo.
By the time they were in the next street, Megumi was near the park when he whipped his head around.
‘Where the hell did he go?’, he irritatingly thought.
He just shrugged. Maybe he will go home on his own as he originally planned. Maybe he should roam around the park once before that.
Looking at the park he was about go in there when the white-haired man reappeared again. Right in front of him.
With a small smirk Gojo was now crouching down to his level as he held up a popsicle. Wrapped up in blue plastic right in front of his face.
“Hurry hurry. It will melt”, he exclaimed with a goofy smile as he shoved the cold treat more onto him.
Megumi was taken aback. When did he noticed? He embarrassingly thought. He cannot help but let a small blush streak his face. He was happy.
As much as a child could be.
But he wasn’t the type to say that out loud.
So, instead he nodded as he quietly said taking the popsicle, “Thanks”
A warm laughter erupted from Gojo as he ruffled his hair, still crouching down.
“You should ask Megumi. Open up. Be greedy”
Gojo softly says with a tilted smile as he looked right at him with those brilliant blue irises, his glasses slipping down to his nose.
Patting his head before standing up to lead him into the park.
Flashback Ends
The heels of his palm were pressed hard into his eyes as Megumi’s mouth parted open in a soundless gasp. Tears, silent and almost unnoticeable trickled down from one of his eyes. His breath even but inside his lungs were heaving as his throat constricted. Head dropped onto his hands, body still hunched.
Noiseless whispers of tears came from him at the memory.
He wishes Gojo wasn’t such a selfless person. He wishes he didn’t cared much. He wishes Gojo wasn’t such a good person deep in his heart but no he had to live idiotically.
“You’re such an idiot Gojo-sensei”
Megumi quietly mumbled despite his tears wetting the heels of his palm as his frame gently tremored.
“Don’t cry over me Megumi. Live the way you want”
Megumi’s body jolted upright as he heard those ghostly whispered of words and a faint touch of shadowy fingers brushing over his head. Eyes wide blown with tears pooling at the corners he cannot help but stare, unmoving at the exit gate of the park.
‘What was that?’
Megumi breathlessly stilled as he wondered openly for full three minutes before slowly letting out a genuine laugh. His body shook with the movement as he leaned back against the bench again. His body going lax. Dropping his forearm over his forehead.
“Guess you’re still annoying me even as a ghost Gojo-sensei”, he huffed tenderly.
----------
In a land fleeting with seamless brightness of whitish, blinding orbs of sparks and energy, holding no affinity for either living or dead. Free from the either pandemonium.
Geto can see Gojo. Too bright amidst the fleecy light around. Appearing shades less deeper. A small smile tugged at his lips as he approached the blue-eyed man.
“Satoru”
The soft, familiar whisper of his name pulled at Gojo’s heart strings. His six-eyes landing upon the one and only person his mind can perceive with such beautiful tints of dark hair and eyes.
“Suguru”
He found himself benignly answering him back. His eyes wide.
“What are you doing here?”
Geto just snorted.
“Shouldn’t you think people might be remembering you?”
Gojo just gently chuckled at that turning his head away, “They will be fine”
His tone gentle but happy.
“Do you regret not being with them Satoru?”, he asked with a calm expression concealing pain in his vision.
Gojo just blinked at him neutrally before smiling, “Yes and no”
Geto blinked back. A little taken aback. A bit confused. Gojo sensed that.
“I wish I could have spent more time with them Suguru but their lives are not mine to live. They can live a long happy life Suguru. Everyone has regrets but I lived the fullest as I could with them… with you Suguru”, he grinned, boyish, young again and free from the shackles of the world.
A gust of air seized Geto’s lungs for his breath caught up at the words. His mug faltering into a vulnerable smile.
“Even with me huh?”, he softly whispered turning his head away.
“Of course”, Gojo childishly snapped back.
“Do you wish to live more with me Satoru? In the next life?”, Geto laughed out extending his palm.
Gojo just stilled. Pain and sweet memories twisting in his chest as he looked at the most peaceful smile on Geto’s profile. So, instead he moves towards him. Closing up upon him, making Geto ease down. His hand dropping to his side as Gojo approached him to softly let his forehead thump against the raven-haired’s shoulder.
“I would live a thousand more with you Suguru. Always”
He breathed out against his shoulder, his syllables withholding nothing but undeniable love and truthfulness. Geto’s breath hitched as he laughed. A bit painfully as he brought his hand to warmly cup around Gojo’s neck.
“Is that so?”
“Yes and this time… I will drag you back to me Suguru”
Gojo replied stubbornly with a shake of his head against Geto’s shoulder. His words carrying a rare shakiness. Almost as if he wanted to cry.
Geto just laughed at that. It was a beautiful sound Gojo selfishly wanted to hear for eternity. His hands warm against his neck as Gojo peeked up at him, still craning his neck down against his shoulder.
“Why are you laughing?”, the limitless user pouted almost.
“No no. How do you know you would still have such powers?”, he teased.
Jerking his head up Gojo just harmlessly glared at him.
“Maybe I don’t want such powers next time. Maybe I can live with you all longer”, he quiescently replied instead.
Geto’s breath stalled for a second before smiling playfully, “Heh~? Really? Won’t that hurt your ego Satoru?”
“No. Either way it doesn’t matter because even if I was born the same again… I would gladly be Gojo Satoru again and again because I don’t regret an ounce of time I spent with them or you Suguru”, he snorted. A tiny but sure smile on his lips.
“You’re hopeless Satoru”, he tenderly shook his head.
Gojo now instead urgently turned towards him again with a serious look in his eyes that owned a kiddish insecurity. It was atypical.
“Will I still be Satoru to you if I am born different?”, he found himself asking in an almost hushed tone.
Geto just was mildly surprised at the question before he threw his head back in a light laughter. As if Gojo had just asked the most ridiculous thing in the universe. The laugh was bright and so picturesque that it almost blinded Gojo.
Catching his breath Geto just shot him the most loving smile Gojo can ever remember before declaring in the most sincere voice a man can ever muster, “You will always be my Satoru”
Before Gojo could process it himself or halt himself, he just leaned in to brush his lips against him in a light gesture. Parting away gently as their forehead rested against each other.
“Yes. Suguru”, was all Gojo could say in a weak tone.