first time i'm not writing inuokko, you surprised? me projecting on megumi..??? haha of course not...
//
megumi always came back from missions in a sort of daze, it was as though a switch had flipped during missions and all he can think about is exorcising the curse and completing the task at hand. he was like a machine.
megumi was never an expressive person, always keeping to himself, but on missions, particularly hard ones specifically, he would come back, the dread of another episode of dissociation and depression weighing on his back.
tonight was one such night, a night where megumi was sent on a mission once more, a difficult mission. the most frustrating mission that he had been on in a long time, he was alone on it, spending over two and a half hours trying to exorcise the damn thing.
fushiguro was certain he wouldn't be able to take any more or this. he couldn't handle another episode, couldn't handle going to make a stupid report or talking to his teachers or classmates because for fucks sake he couldn't even hear the words coming from the taxi driver as he was driven back to the school.
he pulled some cash, stained with the blood of a cursed spirit, out of his pocket and just shoved it into the drivers hand, unsure of if it was enough money or too much money. he didn't care. he just wanted to sleep, but he had a sinking feeling he wouldn't be allowed that, either. he knew he would get a nightmare, or be unable to sleep despite the exhausting fatigue that he was currently drowning in.
megumi couldn't feel his hands as he put them on the handle of his dorm. he heard itadori's tv playing, glancing at his boyfriends dorm with a somehow deader than usual expression on his face. he felt so blank, his peripheral vision was blurred and glitched in a way and he felt so numb. he couldn't focus on the ringing noise of itadori's television, all he knew was that he was watching it. he couldn't comprehend that he was bleeding from multiple cuts, or that his hair was full of dirt and purple liquid, that it was dripping onto his face and onto the floor. he just stood there, looking over at yuuji's door. he stood there for a while, something around 3 minutes, but megumi's perception of time was so distorted too. he felt disoriented, gone.
he sighed, but he couldn't hear or process it. the sigh brought no relief to him whatsoever. with his hand still stuck on the door to his room and his gaze unmoving from itadori's room, he simply dropped his bag at his doorstep. he let go of the door handle almost hesitantly, before quietly walking towards itadori's room.
he wasn't thinking when his hand landed on a door handle that was not for his own room, but for itadori's.
he stood there too, trying to comprehend, trying to figure out if yuuji would understand, and not initiate conversation.
he couldn't think.
he wasn't thinking. he felt tired, exhausted, fatigued even. he felt like he hadn't eaten or slept in days.
his entire body was shaking, that was the only thing he was positive was going on. his vision hazy and with shaky hands, he opened the door.
it wasn't locked.
he walked inside, and the boy with pink hair didn't notice until he visibly saw his spiky black hair peeking out from the corner of the doorframe. his footsteps and breathing were alarmingly silent, and yuuji sat up, tilting his head with confusion. he hadn't said anything yet, but he wasn't too sure he should- no, he definitely shouldn't. he was sure after he saw fushiguros' expression.
itadori shifted a bit, making room for megumi as he had many times before: megumi had done this before, multiple times actually.
he would come back from a mission, walk into itadori's room and lay in his arms until he felt a little better.
