Chapter Text
So, Megumi Fushiguro makes a list of priorities, things he wants to fix, will fix, when the time comes.
1.Protect Tsumiki.
2.Save Itadori (stop him from swallowing that finger in sendai. So long as he can do that, he should be able to live a happy life away from sorcery. Maybe he and Tsumiki can meet someday–but he shouldn't think that far ahead.)
3.At all costs, stop Kenjaku. Find a way to dispose of him and save Gojo.
He does have a plan for each. For the first part, So long as Tsumiki never visits the Yasohachi bridge with her friends or he accompanied her, she should be alright, right? The second part is easy enough to accomplish as well–he already knows it's supposed to be with the occult club. They don't even need to give him a mission for it; he'll just say he found it because its overwhelming cursed energy was nearby when he was excorcising a curse, and it was in the possession of some high schoolers.. His techniques current capabilities are certainly good enough to deal with a grade. Gojo is used to him doing whatever–so long as he avoids his questions, he would likely let it go.
The main problem, Fushiguro thinks, is the third part. Kenjaku was–is?–notorious for being difficult to apprehend ( is he even notorious if history didn't even record him?), and not to say the multiple special grades working under him.
And there's also another complication–his memories from November 2018 can be said to be hazy at best. He can remember a couple of things here and there, some important conversations, maybe meeting Tengen, but he can't help but feel he's missing something. But there's no way to force himself to remember, and if he dilly dallys trying to get it back rather than working to stop it from happening while he can, the time travel will have no use.
He can't remember the details of it either. How did it even happen? Is it replicable? What if he messes up anyway? Can he come back to this point again? What if–
Stop thinking that much, he forcefully reminds himself as he makes his way towards Sugusawa high school. Itadori is depending on you.
Is he? Will he? If Itadori never swallows that finger, he never becomes a sorcerer. A selfish part of him wants to wish that Itadori becomes a sorcerer anyway. His physical capabilities would still put him on par with someone like Maki, if not at a higher level than the current one.
A different, more selfish, part of him wants to keep him away from it altogether. Let him live in ignorance, with his kindness intact. He doesn't deserve to work away his life destroying the disgusting trash of humanity. So long as Kenjaku can be killed, Itadori will live a happy life, and so will Tsumiki. Neither of them will have to live in the harsh world of sorcery, carrying blood on their hands.
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The shinkansen arrives at Sendai without much fanfare. It's a decently populated city, bustling with tourists and civilians alike. It's a clear day, and the Fushiguro of before appeared here only at midnight, so he's several hours early. He has no idea if the occult club has its hand on the Cursed object yet, but he's not going to take chances. Maybe it'll be better to not even meet Itadori, if possible. As far away from jujutsu he can keep him, the better.
He goes to Sugisawa High School.
The Finger is in the temperature shed. No one bats an eye at a random student loitering in the school grounds. Gojo absolutely blows up his phone with notifications, and Megumi tries to stay as in character as himself as possible. He doesn't know why he feels a sense of guilt or responsibility, but perhaps it's part of the lost memories. Did something happen to Gojo in December, other than getting sealed in Shibuya?
Whatever. So long as Kenjaku’s plans are delayed, Shibuya will never have to happen. Sukuna will never incarnate. His hand hovers over the finger momentarily, as he debates the pros and cons of introducing himself to Itadori.
He takes it, and leaves.
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You're actually so foolish, for someone so thoughtful, a voice sneers. It's Sukuna, and Megumi feels himself to the very soul. It must be a nightmare, because there's no reason for Megumi to be in Sukuna's innate domain. He tries to turn, but doesn't dare, instead staring at the blood pooled within the domain. Why is he so scared? Is it because how the silence lingers, as if this Sukuna somehow knows something more than he himself does.
Why does his skin itch with the need to know whose face he's wearing? Does it even matter? He has to go on anyway.
Go on anyway, Sukuna laughs. You, the brat, and your teacher–you all think the same way, huh?
It's a dream, and so, it doesn't matter. Or so he tells himself when he wakes up.