albuuqer

[albuuqer]

Home, at last.

manga spoilers! chapter 237 included.

Megumi Fushiguro reunites with his family, finally.

The water that surrounded him stilled to a stop, making him float between the tides. His eyes were squeezed shut until an arm shook him whole, awaking him from a dream that felt way too long.

“Megumi,” The voice kept on calling, still shaking him, “Megumi, wake up!”

He knew who it was. That voice was Tsumiki’s. But that was impossible. He remembers. She was dead. He was the one who did it.

“Megumi,” She beamed, forcing him to open his eyes, “Megumi!”

Megumi couldn’t move. It wasn’t like before, when Sukuna trapped him inside his own body, and he couldn’t move. This time, he just didn’t want to move in fear of making it all disappear. This had to be a dream, right? If he lifted a finger, it could all dissolve into his mind. And he’d have to face reality. Wait, what reality? Where was he before? In Shinjuku, where he…

“Come on, Dad’s making pancakes!” Tsumiki slapped his arm one more time before bolting out of the room, a bounce in her steps.

Dad? Who, Toji Fushiguro? That is impossible. What kind of nightmare was this?

Megumi carefully lifted the blanket from his body, only to freeze once again. He was tiny. Incredibly, absurdly tiny. Avoiding his suspicions, he stood up and opened the door. The corridor was familiar, everything was.

And it was all confirmed to him when a voice exclaimed, “Satoru!”

Megumi froze again, dread creeping up his spine like a disease. It couldn’t be, it couldn’t possibly be.

“I got this!” Gojo assured dismissively, very much not getting it albeit his words.

He was there. Alive. Smiling and joking as always. Like nothing had changed. Megumi never felt so relieved in seeing Gojo, the same Gojo that used to annoy him endlessly, but that brought so much comfort as of now.

Beside the man, stood you. You from his memories, the one that he kept safe in his heart. Not the you from the real world. The you that he killed a few days ago.

You rolled your eyes like you always did. In a way that shows love.

“You got a burning pancake, that’s what. Even our neighbors can tell,” You smacked his hands away from the pan, handling it with caution before smoothing the surface with butter, “Set the table instead, will you?”

“You can’t kick the chef out of the kitchen! It’s like,” He bit his lip in contemplation, searching for an analogy that would leave you tongue-tied, “Kicking the musician from the stage!”

“Alright, Michael Jackson, my bad,” You laughed wholeheartedly when Gojo sticks out his tongue to you, “Go and wake up the–”

“Good morning!” Tsumiki interjected, waving her hand to you.

“Tsumiki,” You smiled immediately, you always did when you saw him or Tsumiki. For some reason, that made Megumi feel worse, “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes!” His sister sat in a stool that used to be too high for him to reach, “Megumi must’ve slept even better, I couldn’t wake him up!”

“Is that so?” You chuckled lightly, but then frowned at the silhouette standing in the corridor. Tilting your head, Megumi tensed up when your eyes focused on him, a smile adorning the corners of your lips, “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

“Megumi!” Tsumiki turned to face him, smiling too.

He walked up slowly to the counter, climbing into the stool on Tsumiki's left. Your eyes were no longer on him, which gave him time to regain his composure.

What was going on? Is this a dream, an illusion? Or is this the “life” that flashes before your eyes just before you die?

“Show off,” Someone scoffed beside him and Megumi almost forgot that Gojo was there. The man was leaning on the counter, admiring–no, scratch that, worshiping you flip the pancakes in the air.

“You’re just jealous,” You humored him, flexing your arm that held the pan as if being able to flip pancakes was a medal, “Now, which shape should I make?”

Tsumiki’s face lit up when you looked at her, awaiting her reply, “A heart!”

Megumi’s mouth moved on its own, “A dog!”

“A dog is too hard,” Tsumiki countered matter-of-factly, “A heart is simple!”

“A heart is too corny!” He argued childishly. Well, he was a child, technically.

“You’re too corny!”

A gasp ripped out of his throat, eyes bulging out of his tiny head to glare at his sister as if she had uttered the most heinous profanity at him.

Gojo laughed, his hand trying to muffle the sound, while you let out a breath that resembled a chuckle. He and Tsumiki only stopped bickering when you pushed two plates across the counter.

A heart-shaped pancake with strawberries and rose syrup drawn into a smiley face, banana slices framing the heart with raspberries in between the circles, on the rightmost plate. That one was Tsumiki’s, for sure.

And an oddly shaped pancake that, if you squint hard enough, could bear a resemblance to a canine creature–but Megumi knew what it was; three blueberries connected by thin lines of chocolate syrup, forming a triangle that was identical to the one on his Divine Dogs’ foreheads. That was his.

“Ta-dah!” And you smiled like you hadn’t made the sweetest thing for them just now.

Tsumiki’s eyes started to sparkle, “Thank you!” And she dug into her plate, munching the soft batter with an unwavering smile.

Megumi, on the other hand, wouldn’t budge.

“What’s wrong, Megs?” Gojo asked him curiously when he did nothing but stare at his plate, his lanky figure leaning on his shoulder. Fingers wiggling towards his plate, a mocking grin on his lips, “If you don’t eat, I’m sure someone–”

A spatula smacked his hand away, “Don’t pick on someone half your age, Satoru,” You chastised, but couldn't hide the endearment in your voice when you said his name, “What are you, a bully?”

Gojo held onto his hand as if a curse had just bit it off, “When did you get so violent? To get physically attacked under my own roof,” He deflated into a stool, throwing his head back while he lamented his situation, “What a cruel world!”

“Shut up and eat your pancakes,” You nagged, handing him a plate full of your failed attempts of doing Megumi’s dog-shaped ones.

“Do you even love me?” Gojo asked, utterly offended by the food that was given to him.

Megumi usually muted the squabble between the two of you in his head, unless you were insulting Gojo and needed backup (he’d gang up on him with no hesitation). But this time, he could but stare at the couple of idiots that picked up a pair of strays and raised them. Before Megumi could stop it, his eyes were pricked up with tears.

You took notice of it first, ignoring Gojo’s whining and turning to him, “What’s wrong, Gumi?”

The pure softness of your voice made him want to cry harder. He didn’t know. He didn’t know what was happening, or where he was and what it meant.

But he knew that he missed it.

The light-hearted quarrels between you and Gojo, the tranquility that mornings brought along with them, the easy-going atmosphere that always engulfed the Fushiguro-Gojo household when the four of you were together.

When did all that go away? Was it when Tsumiki got cursed? Or maybe when Gojo was sealed and everything in Shibuya turned the world upside down? Was it all gone the moment you left this world?

“Gumi,” The nickname snapped him out of it, reminding him of where he was, “Are you okay?” He was with you, with his family.

You, Tsumiki, and Gojo were staring at him worriedly. You had circled around the counter, facing and cupping his face onto your hands, holding him with so much care that he could do nothing but lean into your touch.

“I–I’m,” His mouth felt suddenly dry, no matter how much he licked his lips, “Can I hug you?”

Your eyes melted into a puddle of love and adoration, your arms wrapping around his tiny frame that trembled and quivered like a leaf in a thunderstorm.

“Shh, you’re okay,” Your quiet, sweet voice only made him sob louder, “We’re here, Gumi, you’re here.”

Megumi felt another pair of arms pressing up against him, Gojo hid his face in the crook of your neck but he somehow knew the kind of expression that the sorcerer was wearing. The kind of face that made curses and humans alike to tremble in fear. The sort of emotion that always appeared when someone dared to hurt his family.

Tsumiki nestled into your arms too, shielding her little brother from the world with her tiny arms. And you held them both in your own, with Gojo.

Megumi grabbed a chunk of your shirt, clenching his fist around the cloth. Gripping into you as if you were going to fade and slip through his fingers.

“You’re here,” You caressed his back, making little patterns with your finger. Megumi sniffled harshly, trying to just stop crying but he couldn’t. You pressed a kiss on the crown of his head, “We’re all here, sweetheart.”

Gojo ruffled his hair like he used to do when they met, and Tsumiki held his hand in the same way she did back when he was scared.

And, for a moment, Megumi forgot.

He forgot that this wasn’t real. And that Tsumiki was gone, that you were killed and Gojo defeated. He forgot that he was in Shinjuku, staring in the backseat of his own body at Hajime Kashimo, who challenged him–no, not him, Sukuna. He forgot that he had died.

But, for once in his life, he got what he wanted.

He was home. With his family.

my son :(