Play Hell With ✔ // MEGUMI X SUKUNA

[ 2 ] Dom Lesson Number One: Listen To Nobara

When Gojo returned, Itadori's assessment had already been expedited. Unlike Megumi's homecoming from the exam, Itadori's was filled with explicit and excessive fanfare.

"I hate this," Megumi muttered as Nobara strapped a party hat atop his head. The elastic band stung beneath his chin.

"At least pretend you're excited. Itadori's been so happy about this," Nobara said, and wiggled Megumi's head about with both her hands on his cheeks.

When Itadori came up the steps, the second years sprung the confetti canons and Megumi shut his eyes to avoid it all. Still, he could imagine the way Itadori sprung in the air with a yelp of glee, colliding with Nobara and accepting the neon shirt that read, " IT'S A SUB ".

Itadori donned it with a smile. The shirt was glaring and Megumi had to squint to look at him. "Is there cake?!"

Gojo dropped an arm around Itadori's shoulders. "Absolutely! Who do you think I am?"

"This is excessive," Megumi said aloud, which no one agreed to.

Megumi spent the celebration imagining the acute hell Sukuna must be enduring in this moment as Itadori and the others sang ad-libbed versions of pop songs, substituting certain words for " sub " instead. It wasn't long before Gojo left the partying to his pupils, which ended with Megumi under his arm and Gojo saying, "You know, this could've been you."

Megumi bristled, eyes shut. "I suppose this is where I thank you for containing it to just the balloons."

"You know me so well!"

Megumi sighed and, as the two of them watched the chaos unfold at a distance, Megumi asked, "You never told me your theory."

"About?"

"About why Sukuna's orders worked on the special grade but not me." He couldn't contend with the special grade, and if skill had anything to do with it, Megumi was severely lacking.

After all, Megumi's one and only order may have been a fluke. He could blame it on the adrenaline if he wanted, but that excuse withered over time.

He glanced at Gojo's silence. Gojo's lips pursed in what others might see as thought, but Megumi knew to be a grimace.

"I don't know," Gojo confessed. He retracted his arm from Megumi's shoulders, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "But I imagine Sukuna is wondering the same thing based off your story. He'll likely test his own theory next time."

Next time. It was a shock to Megumi's system and a reaction he hadn't expected: anticipation. That familiar fire caught on his veins, turning his fingers to static.

Megumi glanced away, jaw set tight. What the fuck's wrong with me?

Gojo patted him on the back. "Keep an eye on him."

"Sukuna?" This earned him a hair tussle.

"No, just Itadori."

Gojo left him then with a wave. Megumi spent the rest of the party imagining all variety of ways another encounter with Sukuna might go. Though nearly a week had passed since the detention center, the flare of reliving Sukuna's defiance was present enough to put Megumi on edge.

Or rather, the edge.

Awkwardly, he joined the others in hopes the tablecloth would disguise his brief lapse in sanity.

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