[ different people burn differently. it goes without saying and yet when faced with it, megumi finds he does not quite know what to do with the reality versus the concept. if asked to explain how this is so, he could not; he simply knows that it is true β that one such as ryomen sukuna is a hell and heaven and earth apart from gojou satoru. which stands ahead or above, he cannot say and would not perhaps even if he could. his inclination is to claim he does not care and then, too self-aware to accept this, he would have to amend:i would rather not care. sukuna's hand against his skin is as though it might leave a burn scar the same dark and permanent of his own tattoos, and when megumi shivers, he burns too; an irritable red high in his cheeks, the hollow of his throat, the tips of his ears. even in the dark, it offsets the green of his eyes in a way that can only be described as 'pretty' and it is only the very truth of who and what the two men he stands close to signify, that keeps others from staring too long.
knowledge.
and fear.
yet he does not believe that sukuna could keep him from satoru. to fushiguro megumi, there is no one stronger than his benefactor.
he blinks once; slow; thoughtful. quiet. ]
You over-estimate me, Sukuna-dono.
[ simple, to the point. he does not reply to anything other than sukuna's perceived opinion of satoru's own opinion of him. because megumi honestly is not sure satoru 'likes' him so much as finds use in him, so much as to let him go now is the same as losing. which convinces him even more-so without arguing it, that this is not meant to be a indelible handoff. the child in him from nine years ago questions that of course; is still standing in that rundown alleyway staring up at the white-haired man with the sky for his eyes and the same breadth of promise; is still softly overwhelmed with terrible hope he then boxes neatly away into a room made entirely of shadows; still.
megumi was not lying.
he is not 'often' afraid.
but when he is, it is a deep and abiding sort of fear.
a child's fear.
it hurts to be alone but it hurts especially to be left behind as the cause.
to be found after that was more important than megumi today is able to look straight into the eyes of and yet the core of him understands.
unprompted, still not looking at sukuna at all, he finds himself surprised to wonder if sukuna has ever lost anything, if he knows what it even truly means, if he even is a person who could; some can't after all and megumi has met plenty of those too. the world has more and more people without an ounce of creativity to imagine or empathy to feel, than it has those with. and on the one hand megumi's compassion may kill him, but on the other, he has no patience for those who truly like a heart. having one does not automate good or bad. he does not especially think of satoru nor sukuna as 'good'. but they are quite real; real and formidable.
and sometimes, megumi feels, almost displaced in time and space.
sometimes he feels that way about himself too.
against his skin, sukuna is warm, almost too much so.
no subject
knowledge.
and fear.
yet he does not believe that sukuna could keep him from satoru. to fushiguro megumi, there is no one stronger than his benefactor.
he blinks once; slow; thoughtful. quiet. ]
You over-estimate me, Sukuna-dono.
[ simple, to the point. he does not reply to anything other than sukuna's perceived opinion of satoru's own opinion of him. because megumi honestly is not sure satoru 'likes' him so much as finds use in him, so much as to let him go now is the same as losing. which convinces him even more-so without arguing it, that this is not meant to be a indelible handoff. the child in him from nine years ago questions that of course; is still standing in that rundown alleyway staring up at the white-haired man with the sky for his eyes and the same breadth of promise; is still softly overwhelmed with terrible hope he then boxes neatly away into a room made entirely of shadows; still.
megumi was not lying.
he is not 'often' afraid.
but when he is, it is a deep and abiding sort of fear.
a child's fear.
it hurts to be alone but it hurts especially to be left behind as the cause.
to be found after that was more important than megumi today is able to look straight into the eyes of and yet the core of him understands.
unprompted, still not looking at sukuna at all, he finds himself surprised to wonder if sukuna has ever lost anything, if he knows what it even truly means, if he even is a person who could; some can't after all and megumi has met plenty of those too. the world has more and more people without an ounce of creativity to imagine or empathy to feel, than it has those with. and on the one hand megumi's compassion may kill him, but on the other, he has no patience for those who truly like a heart. having one does not automate good or bad. he does not especially think of satoru nor sukuna as 'good'. but they are quite real; real and formidable.
and sometimes, megumi feels, almost displaced in time and space.
sometimes he feels that way about himself too.
against his skin, sukuna is warm, almost too much so.
he wishes he disliked it. ]