Chapter Text
His office was a hole in the ground pretending to be a room.
Jiraiya sat behind what might have passed for a desk, a salvaged collection of wood nailed together and shoved into the cramped, underground space. The walls, spread farther apart than most other rooms in the hideout, still pressed in from all sides. There were no windows or decoration, just bare stone marked with chisel gouges and torch brackets bolted around then four corners, casting flickering shadows in every direction.
The ceiling was low enough that standing up, Jiraiya could reach up and touch it. Condensation stains darkened one corner, water seeping through cracks in the stone. The air smelled damp of earth and torch smoke, stale.
Danzo Shimura stood in the center, wrapped in bandages and that calm he always carried. Koharu Utatane to his right, spine straight, her closed eyes tightened into a glare. Homura Mitokado to his left, already looking uncomfortable in the confined space. That, and no doubt the purpose of this impromptu gathering.
Jiraiya didn't know or care if the other two were aware of Danzo's recent plan with Megumi before he enacted it. He'd see the three of them gang up on his teacher enough times, and get away with it, that he had to put them all in their places.
Tacit acceptance wasn't going to fly. Not right now, not with him.
"Sit down," he said.
They did. Danzo calmly settled into one of the rare, cushioned chairs positioned near the desk. Koharu lowered herself with practiced dignity. Homura settled into his place more slowly, his hands instinctively adjusting the positioning of his glasses.
Jiraiya let the silence stretch. The torches crackled. Somewhere in the distance, something scurried through the walls. A faint, rhythmic water drip persistence. He counted to ten in his head, and addressed his supposed advisors.
"Help me understand something," Jiraiya finally said. His voice was quiet, conversational even. "When you decided to have one of your ROOT agents transform into Tsumiki Fushiguro, did you think I wouldn't find out or did you just not care about going behind my back?"
"The boy's awakening was taking too long," Danzo replied without hesitation. "Tsunade's methods were insufficient."
"I'm not asking about results," Jiraiya leaned forward. "I'm asking about the plan. How long was this deception supposed to last?"
Danzo's visible eye narrowed fractionally. "As long as it was required."
"Define that."
"Until Fushiguro was cooperative."
"And if he found out the truth?"
"Then we'd adjust our approach accordingly."
Jiraiya felt something cold settle into his chest. "You mean force him into obedience."
"If necessary, yes."
If Koharu was surprised by this development, she didn't show it. Her voice was as sharp and unyielding as ever. "Lord Fourth, Danzo's methods have saved this village. His ROOT agents creation and maintenance of these bunkers allowed us to avoid complete disaster. Whatever discomfort the sorcerer boy experience is insignificant-"
"Insignificant." Jiraiya's tone hadn't changed. "You call this pointless mess insignificant."
"It's pragmatic," Koharu said flatly. "We're at war. Sukuna has destroyed Konoha and Kirigakure. Every remaining village on the continent is preparing for him to show up next. We need every advantage, every weapon we can—"
"He's not a weapon," Jiraiya's voice stayed level. "He's a kid, someone we need to treat as an ally. Not as a target for manipulation and brainwashing."
"He's a shinobi, of sorts," Danzo countered. "The closest thing his world has to one, even if his poor resolve would point to otherwise. Personal feelings are secondary to the mission."
"And as usual, your method to accomplish that mission is the most extreme one imaginable. You couldn't just have your agent mimic her voice to coax him awake and leave it at that? You couldn't let Tsunade try her way first," Jiraiya's conversation tone steeled with every word. "No, you were going to play the kid for a fool, use him and then force all the rest of us to go along with the charade."
Homura cleared his throat carefully. "Perhaps we should discuss this calmly. There are... valid points on both sides. Danzo's actions, while harsh, did achieve the objective. But the execution left much to be desired. If we could find a middle ground—"
"What middle ground?" Jiraiya focused his gaze on the man. "Megumi's just spent the past few months of his life being controlled by that lunatic. Forced to do unspeakable things nobody should ever have to. And this guys," He glared back at Danzo. "Bright idea is for us to screw with him some more, use him as a tool for our ends next. How the hell do you expect to build trust that way, make an ally of him?"
"Sentimentality is ill afforded in these times," Koharu answered without flinching. "Lord Tobirama understood that well. Your teacher did too, even if he struggled with the executioner. This is what leadership requires."
"Leadership." Jiraiya nodded slowly. "Yeah. Let's talk about that."
Jiraiya stood, his movements slow, deliberate. He planted both hands on the desk, felt the rough wood grain under his palms and bow under his weight. He leaked at each of them in turn, letting his white eye emphasize his glare.
"Master Sarutobi let you play these games," Jiraiya said, eyeing the man without blinking. "He let you operate in the shadows, make executive decisions, do things he couldn't bring himself to order directly. Why is that?"
There was no answer, not even a movement from ROOTs founder.
"He did that because he respected you. Because despite everything, all the decades of disagreements and schemes and power plays, you were still his best friend in the whole world."
Danzo said nothing.
"But you're not my friend, old man. You're my subordinate. You work for me, not with me, and definitely not around me." Jiraiya glare sharpened. "So let me put this as bluntly as possible. If you ever break the chain of command again, ever endanger one of our own or threaten an ally like you did with Megumi Fushiguro…"
He let the words hang in the stale underground air.
"I will personally break every bone in your body. I'll drag left of you to wherever Sukuna's rampaging next and I will feed you to him piece by piece myself." The temperature in the cramped space dropped sharply. Even the torches guttered. "You like to think of shinobi, of people, as tools? Fine. I'll think of you as one then. And I'll dispose of you the same way I've tossed a hundred useless kunai over the years without a second thought."
Koharu drew breath to speak. Her mouth opened. Then Jiraiya's gaze shifted to her.
He didn't say anything. Didn't raise his voice. Didn't release any killing intent or chakra pressure. He just looked at her.
Koharu's mouth closed. Her shoulders hunched forward. Her fingers twitched for the hidden blade she kept in her left kimono sleeve. Jiraiya's eyes darted to it, then her face. A silent dare, a quiet challenge. Jiraiya didn't so much as blink until she shrank into her chair like a scolded academy student.
His gaze flicked to Homura. The old man was smarter. He'd already raised his hands in a placating gesture, backing down without too much fuss. His fingers trembled slightly.
Then there was Danzo.
He met the stare. His single visible eye now open, no doubt calculating, measuring, weighing options and angles. The silence went on. Five seconds. Ten. Fifteen. The water kept dripping somewhere, the torches sputtered on.
Then, impossibly, Danzo smiled. Just a slight curve at the corner of his mouth.
"You've made your stance quite clear, Lord Fourth," He bowed his head. "I apologize for overstepping my authority. It will not happen again."
I bet it won't. Jiraiya eyed him with a curled lip. The man's smile made his skin crawl more than any glare could have. But he nodded once, accepting the words. He sat back down, let out a long, hard breath.
"Status report," he said coldly. "What's happening beyond our borders?"
Danzo straightened at once. Slipping back into the role of intelligence chief as smoothly as donning a mask. "Sukuna himself is still nowhere to be seen. Wherever he intends to strike next, we certainly won't know until it's well under way or already finished."
"And the leaks about his carnage, his abilities, have the other villages taken note?"
"Sunagakure has sealed its borders completely. No traffic in or out. Iwagakure shinobi have been recalled from the frontlines, they're presently reinforcing their mountain defenses in numbers not seen since the start of the Second Great Shinobi War. Kumogakure are a bit more bold, sending forces into the Lands of Fire and Water to ascertain if two of their neighbors have truly fallen."
"What about Hanzo, has Amegakure said anything?"
Danzo nodded. "The Salamander's representatives have said he is considering hearing an official proposal. But he hasn't committed to a meeting location or terms."
Understandable. He's heard about Sukuna by now either from us or somebody else. He's holding the security of his country almost entirely on his own shoulders. Asking him to leave for any reason at all is a tall order. Jiraiya leaned back into the seat. "If it's necessary, tell them we'll meet with them in the Land of Rain. It's in everyone's interest this alliance goes through. I'm not gonna risk it just because the venue isn't to my liking."
"Of course."
A few more minutes of conversation passed. More reports about the other bunkers, the state of people's moral being cooped up underground, their stocks of food and water. Once all matters had been discussed, Jiraiya looked at all three of them one more time then nodded towards the door.
"Thank you for the information. Now get out."
Their chairs scraped against the stone floor as they got up. They bowed and fiiled toward the crude wooden door. Homura practically fled, relieved to escape into the tunnels beyond. Koharu moved with rigid dignity, but she didn't meet his eyes, her hand trailing against the stone wall for support as she left. Danzo walked with his usual stride, unruffled, ducking slightly to clear the low doorframe.
The door closed with a dull thud. The torch flame steadied.
Jiraiya waited five seconds, then turned his head toward the wall behind the desk.
"How long have you been listening?"
The stone rippled like water. Orochimaru emerged from it like a ghost, his pale face materialized first, followed by the rest of him. He smirked as he stepped fully into the office, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeves.
"Since 'I will feed you to him piece by piece,'" Orochimaru said, sounding almost amused. "That was quite the threat, Jiraiya. I don't believe I've ever heard you speak to a fellow Konoha shinobi in that way."
"First time for everything I guess. You mind telling me why you're spying on my meetings?"
"I'd heard about the wild chase for the shinobi boy, and the ROOT agent. Let's just say I was… interested to see how you'd handle Danzo."
Jiraiya gave him an annoyed look. The damned job tested him enough without the people around him doing the same. Despite that, a part of him was curious to hear what his teammate had to say. It won out.
"And?"
Orochimaru leaned against the wall, his shoulder pressing into the stone surface. "Master Sarutobi never spoke to them like that. Not that I've ever seen. He'd argue, certainly. Disagree, push back when they went too far. But threaten them? Never."
Jiraiya sank back into the chair. The wood creaked under his weight. The adrenaline from the confrontation was fading, leaving exhaustion in its wake. "Maybe he should have."
"Perhaps." Orochimaru tilted his head slightly. "Koharu won't forgive or forget this. She's been one of Konoha's most influential voices for decades. You just reduced her to a frightened child before her peers."
"If Koharu's got a problem with the way I address her, she's free to resign. All of them are," Jiraiya waved a dismissive hand. "They'd be doing me a favor. There's no shortage of capable people around I'd happily replace them all with."
Orochimaru chuckled, the first Jiraiya had heard from him since this whole mess started. "Congratulations, Jiraiya. You've managed to cow Konoha's most influential advisors. That's… impressive."
The praise landed wrong.
Not the words themselves. Despite disagreeing, and even not liking the guy, Jiraiya had always wanted acknowledgment from his teammate, his rival. Even if it felt completely one-sided from his part on that score. He'd just gotten it, no mockery in sight. It sounded sincere, respectful even.
He just didn't count on getting it for threatening fellow Konoha shinobi, even ones he didn't like by feeding them to a homicidal maniac. It was like Orochimaru was telling him this is who he expected, or wanted him to be from now on.
It just didn't feel right.
"What do you think Danzo's real game was?" Jiraiya asked, changing the subject before Orochimaru could see how the praise had cut. "Was he honestly trying to help Konoha? Making a power move? Testing me?"
Orochimaru considered it for several seconds. "With him, all three are possible. And none of them."
"That's not helpful."
"It's accurate," His smile faded. "Danzo operates in layers. Surface motivations obscuring deeper ones, which themselves hide something else entirely. He probably believes he acted in Konoha's best interest. But he also wanted to see how you'd respond. To see how if you'd follow in Master Sarutobi's footsteps in affording him… substantial leeway."
"Which means when he starts with his nonsense again someday, he'll take extra steps to keep me out of the loop," Jiraiya sighed, feeling the beginnings of a headache creeping up on him. "Fantastic."
The room felt increasingly more suffocating. The ceiling and walls seemed to shrink around him, the air grew staler by the minute. He couldn't stomach it anymore.
"I need to blow off some steam. Mind training with me?"
"Tsunade's still with Fushiguro," Orochimaru noted. "Attempting to bring him back from whatever dark corner he's retreated into."
"Then it'll just be us. Come on. I really need to hit something."
They headed for the door. As Jiraiya reached for the crude wooden handle, felt the splinters catch against his palm, Orochimaru spoke again.
"You meant it, didn't you? About feeding Danzo to Sukuna?"
Jiraiya paused, hand frozen in-place. He thought about the Tsumiki deception. About Megumi's face when he realized the deception. The severe blow it might've caused to all their efforts against Sukuna. He recalled all the tales he'd heard about Danzo, the lengths he'd gone to, to supposedly help Konoha. Some of them had paid off, like the bunkers. But others? Pointlessly excessive at best, disgustingly cruel at worst.
He turned to his teammate and looked at him with his good eye. "Yeah. I meant it, and if he gives me a good enough reason, I'll do it too."
Orochimaru said nothing more, which Jiraiya was thankful for. They walked out into the tunnels, leaving the cramped hole in the ground and the lingering tensions behind.
Time didn't exist down here.
Megumi realized that somewhere around day three, or what they told him was day three. It was impossible to tell in a place where the torches never went out, the temperature never changed and he stared at the same four walls every moment. The air was stale too, recycled through whatever ventilation system they had. His numb body didn't have any sense of a circadian rhythm.
The only real markers were Tsunade's visits.
Morning and evening, she said. Twice a day, regular as clockwork. Megumi had to take her word for it since everything down here felt like a moment that stretched on forever. It just wouldn't end. Nothing ended.
The door opened. Tsunade stepped in carrying her medical bag. No pleasantries. No false cheer. He liked that she didn't bother with any of that, just about the only thing he did about her seeing him. She pulled the other chair over to his bed as he lay in it facing the ceiling, and sat next to him.
"I need to check your vitals," she said.
Megumi extended his arm without a fuss. Her hands were warm against his wrist, completely different from the otherwise coolness of the room. Fingers pressed against a pulse point. That energy, chakra, glowed green around her hand and went into his body. It still felt weird, like mixing splashing water on oil.
"Heart rate elevated. Blood pressure is high." She let his arm go and pulled out her notebook, making notes with a well-used pen. "Are you eating well?"
He shrugged.
"That's not an answer."
Another shrug.
Tsunade's pen stopped moving. She looked at him closely, brown eyes assessing him. Megumi didn't bother turning to face her. "The ROOT agent you injured is recovering. Broken radius, partially severed muscles. I had to spend an hour reconstructing the damage but she'll be fine."
She shouldn't be fine. The angry thought passed through his head for a second. It made his fingers almost curl into fists. But it passed, and he let it go. It didn't matter.
"You didn't mean to do it," Tsunade continued, closing her notebook with a snap. "You reacted on instinct, in anger. It's unfortunate but understandable. You couldn't have known how Sukuna's energy would change you."
He stayed quiet.
"I'll be back in the evening," Tsunade stood, the chair scraping as she pushed it back. "Try to eat something."
She left. The door closed with a scraping sound, and the click of a lock that echoed slightly in the confined space.
Megumi stared at the ceiling some more.
The routine kept on going. Tsunade came, asked him questions he didn't answer and left after making some notes.
Sometimes, when he didn't even feel like staring at the ceiling, he'd pace around the room, counting the steps from one end to another. Or he'd tap and run his hand over the rock walls. Just something to kill the time that wouldn't end.
On another visit, he didn't know which one, she asked a different question from usual.
"How's the food?" Her fingers pressed against his wrist, taking his pulse.
"Edible."
The word came out rough. It was the first thing he'd said since he told her and Jiraiya to leave him be. Her fingers paused for half a second, then kept working. Megumi wasn't really surprised he spoke, it just sort of came out all on its own.
"That's something, at least," She let his arm go. "Headaches, any muscle pain?"
No."
"Sleeping?"
Something tightened in his chest. "I guess."
He heard her making notes. The pen scratching across paper filled the silence, the sound bouncing back at him from the walls. Then the notebook being set aside on the scarred wooden table. The chair creaked as she leaned back.
"I wanna say sleeping gets easier after you lose someone you care about, but," She shrugged, and didn't speak for a little while again. "Eventually, the good nights outnumber the bad ones. It just… takes a long time, and a little outside help."
She stood just as Megumi's eyes flicked toward her. Tsunade picked up her bag, that familiar creak of worn leather.
"I won't be able to see you this evening. There's a war council I'll have to attend. Sorry."
The door closed. Megumi watched it for a while, then went back to staring at the ceiling. After a while, he started counting the patterns that ran across the ones. One, two, three…
What must've been a few hours later, the door scraped open again.
Except it wasn't Tsunade this time.
The girl with big red hair, Kushina he remembered, stepped in carrying a wooden tray. She set it down on the table with more force than necessary, the dishes clattered.
"Okay, so, Lady Tsunade told me you spoke with her," She said, dropping into the chair without invitation. "That's progress! Which means you've earned yourself some real food, instead of that sad gray stuff they got us eating most of the time now."
Megumi tilted his head and glanced at the tray. Rice. Grilled fish that actually looked edible, not the paste. Misou soup was still steaming. His stomach responded despite himself. He hadn't had a decent meal ever since he, Yuji, Hana and that weird Takaba guy snuck into the hotel. It felt like a million life times ago.
"You gonna eat it, or just stare?" Kushina leaned back, making the chair creak. "Because I went through actual effort to get the kitchen staff to make this. Used my feminine wiles and everything."
Megumi gave her a blank look. A couple of days ago, he probably would've said no. But it smelled really good. His stomach was begging for it, the way it growled.
He sat on the mattress, reached for the chopsticks. The fish tasted better than he expected, it was seasoned with something that tasted like ginger. He ate slowly, aware of her watching him.
"Ssssoooo," Kushina said after a while. "Everyone tells me you're from another world. Like, a whole different planet! That's pretty cool. What's it like there, is the food as good as ours? You didn't react weirdly to seeing a fish so you guys must have those too, right?"
Megumi paused mid-chewing and stared at her. The question was so bizarre he couldn't help himself. But he guessed it made sense, just because there were people on both worlds didn't have to mean they had the same animals to eat.
"Yeah, we have fish."
"Pork?"
"Yeah."
"Chicken?"
"Yeah."
"Ramen?" She said with a particular interest. "You can't have that too, right?"
Megumi chewed. Swallowed. "We have ramen."
"Woah," She grinned. "It's good to know the best meal exists everywhere. A world without ramen isn't worth existing in."
He almost smiled. Almost. Caught himself and looked back down at his food.
Kushina seemed to notice anyway. Her expression softened slightly. "You don't have to talk if you don't want to. I just figured you might want company that's not medical check ups and… depressing stuff."
Megumi kept eating. But he didn't tell her to leave.
She took that as an invitation. She talked about the bunker, how many people were getting sick of it already, how they were organizing cooking rotations, how some kids discovered they could make echoes running down the eastern tunnels and were driving people nuts with the noise.
Small stuff, pretty pointless stuff. But it wasn't bad having the empty air filled with something different for a change.
When Megumi finished eating, she stood and collected the tray. "I'll bring dinner tomorrow too, this was fun. And hey—" She paused at the door. "It's okay if you don't want to talk yet. But maybe think about it? The talking thing? It helps. Trust me."
The door scraped shut. The lock clicked.
Megumi lied back down and went back to staring at the ceiling. Soon enough, he drifted off into sleep and it wasn't bad. Not with a full stomach.
Time bled together some more.
His routine had changed since the evening of Kushina's visit. He started eating more for one. He felt like talking with more than single words when someone asked him something.
The nights didn't get much better, the nightmares left him in a cold sweat every morning, and just on the cusp of screaming his lungs out every night. But the waking hours became slightly more bearable.
Tsunade's visits became more sporadic, something about needing to train. Megumi could guess for what and didn't ask more. Minato and Kushina started popping in, a few times a day sometimes.
Minato was the complete opposite of her. He was calm, pretty in-control of himself next to Kushina who seemed like she never ran out of gas. He'd sit and talk about weather Megumi couldn't see, about training exercises, telling him about chakra and jutsu and occasionally asking about cursed energy. But he never pushed for an answer he didn't think Megumi wouldn't give.
Kushina pushed constantly. She asked him everything about Earth, what did people wear, where did they live, did they have ninja villages. She seemed to make it a personal challenge to make him respond with more than a couple of words at a time. Sometimes she pulled it off.
Tsunade's approach changed too.
Tsunade kept checking vitals and making notes. But the questions changed. Less about pain and sleep, more about how he was managing. If he needed anything. If he wanted to talk about what happened.
He didn't. But he started appreciating that she asked.
Minato came in carrying breakfast one morning and something else. A wooden board with a grid pattern carved into it.
"Shogi," he said, setting both on the table. "Thought you might want something to do besides stare at walls."
Megumi looked at the board, then at Minato. "I don't really play."
"Neither do I anymore," He gave a sheepish grin. "People don't want to play with me. Except for Shikaku."
All the same, Minato pulled up his chair, started setting up pieces. Megumi figured he could try it, if only as thanks for Minato bringing him the meal.
So they played. Or rather, Minato played while Megumi moved pieces without thinking, without strategy. Just pushing them forward until Minato's pieces inevitably cornered his king. Once, twice, three times. Each game faster than the last.
"You're not even trying," Minato observed, setting up the board again.
"Does it matter?"
"Not really. But it passes the time." Minato moved a piece. "Though I won't have much of that soon for things like this anymore. Lord Fourth intends to send me out to try and track down Sukuna. Our scouts may have picked up his trailer somewhere in the northern pine forests of the Land of Fire, but we can't let them get too close to him."
Megumi's hand paused over a piece. Ice settled into his spine. "But you can."
"Thanks to my speed and techniques," Minato's tone was matter-of-fact. "I can get close enough to observe his movements, mark locations for retreat, and teleport out if he spots me. There's no one better for the job."
"That's suicide."
"Maybe. But someone needs to track him. Figure out where he's going, what he's doing." Minato moved another piece, capturing one of Megumi's without effort. "We can't fight what we can't find."
Megumi stared at the board. Thought about Kushina bringing him food every afternoon. Her bright voice filling the stone room. The way she'd talked about Minato with such obvious affection.
"Your move," Minato said.
Megumi moved a piece at random. "His Domain Expansion has a range of about two hundred meters."
Minato looked up.
"That's the ultimate move for us sorcerers," Megumi kept his eyes on the board. "Basically, it's like an area where the sorcerer's inner world, their innate domain, manifests in the outside world but usually as a separate space. Inside this space, the sorcerer imbues their cursed technique, meaning anybody inside the domain itself is guaranteed to be hit by it. It doesn't matter how fast you are or where you stand, if you're in, you're getting hit."
"So, like a pocket dimension, shaped to resemble your mindscape. Can't say us shinobi have anything close to that. None that I've seen anyway."
Minato didn't look worried about it, more intrigued if anything. "You said usually, Sukuna's doesn't?"
"He's different from the rest of us. I still don't get it myself but somehow… The barrier that makes his domain is open. Somebody could theoretically just run out of it," Megumi almost laughed at the absurdity of that idea. "Good luck. You've got a 200 meter kill zone with endless slashes coming at you, and him too. You see him make this handsign, just teleport outta there and stay the hell away from him."
Megumi forced himself to make the sign, just quickly enough for Minato to see, then moved his hands apart.
"Not that I think he'll use it immediately on you."
Minato raised an eyebrow.
"Kushina told me about you. Said you're pretty famous, not just here but across all the villages. Sukuna's got your leader's body now. You're definitely someone he'll want to fight before resorting to Malevolent Shrine."
Again, Minato didn't seem concerned about this. If anything, he looked momentarily embarrassed by his girlfriend's praise. Megumi didn't think he was dumb enough to not take Sukuna seriously. So what was it, confidence, something else?
"You're not scared," Megumi said. It wasn't a question.
"No more than I think I reasonably should be. But I find in circumstances like these, it's important to keep a clear view of the situation," Then he smiled. "Besides, the information you're giving me? It improves my odds by a lot. Knowing how his ability works means I can more effectively prepare measures to escape."
Minato moved another piece. Megumi stared at the board, no less confused by how easily this guy managed to handle all this.
"He likes to test opponents first," Megumi said after a pause, moving another piece without looking. "Figure out what they can do before committing. If you seem weak, he might toy with you. If you seem strong, he'll get excited. Push harder."
"So showing weakness might buy me time."
"Maybe. Or he'll kill you immediately for boring him." Megumi's hands clenched. "He works on whims. That's what makes him dangerous. Something might amuse him one second and he'll let you live, then irritate him the next and get a whole town eaten."
Minato moved another piece, his expression thoughtful. After a moment, he looked at the shogi board. "Checkmate, by the way. You left your king exposed four moves ago."
Megumi glanced down. He had. Hadn't even noticed.
"Thank you," Minato said. "For the information. You've been a big help."
"I haven't helped anyone."
"You just gave me intel that might keep me alive. That might help me gather information that saves others." Minato's expression was serious. "That's helping, Megumi."
"It's just talking. It doesn't mean anything."
"I think it does." Minato started packing up the shogi board. "You know what I think?"
Megumi didn't respond.
"I think you're still fighting. Even if you won't admit it yet." Minato's voice was gentle. "Sharing information so I can survive, so I can come back to Kushina. That's not surrender. That's choosing to do what you can with what you have."
"That's not fighting. Fighting would be—"
"Fighting is resistance. It's refusing to let the enemy win completely." Minato tucked the board under his arm. "You're not letting Sukuna take everything from you. You're still trying to protect people, even if it's just giving them a better chance to protect themselves."
He headed for the door, then paused. "I'll bring the shogi board again. Maybe next time you'll actually try to win."
The door closed.
Megumi sat staring at the empty chair, Minato's words echoing off stone walls.
Choosing to do what you can.
He'd just given tactical intelligence to help someone survive Sukuna. Had done it voluntarily. Because he didn't want Kushina to lose someone else. Because Minato was—
What? A friend? That felt too strong. But not an enemy. Not a jailer.
Someone who mattered.
When had that happened?
Tsunade came for her evening check one night, looking more haggard than usual. She kept sighing the whole way through, Megumi noticed some bruises on her arms, a slight limp in her step.
"Training's gotten rough," Tsunade said, eyes on his pulse. "I'd forgotten how rough a fight can be. It's been ages since I've had to exert myself like this."
Megumi recalled what she'd said weeks ago, about losing people you love and the sleepless nights after it. Despite himself, the words came out faster than he could talk himself out of speaking them.
"You quit, right?"
Tsunade paused her chakra flow, the feeling not too weird to him after all this time anymore. She looked him in the eye with a weird expression he couldn't figure out. She let his arm go, then leaned back into the seat, crossing her arms.
"Yes, I quit."
"Because someone died."
"My brother, and boyfriend," Tsunade said, her words more hollow than he'd ever heard before. "They both died in the war. Dan died in my arms. My brother, when they brought him back I couldn't recognize-"
She shook her head, closed her eyes. Tsunade didn't speak until after taking a sharp breath.
"After all that I abandoned Konoha. Just walked away. I couldn't stand being there anymore. Everything reminded me of them. I couldn't even look at a drop of blood without freezing up. Spent a few years drinking, and gambling my days," A bitter smile crossed her face. "I was planning on doing it until I finally died."
Megumi could guess what made her come back, but he still wanted to hear her say it for some reason. "What made you come back?"
"What do you think?"
Megumi felt a pang of annoyance. "You didn't need to. You lost enough, why come back and risk even more?"
"That was my logic for a long time, kid. But when I heard what happened to my teacher, what that freak was doing through his body-" Tsunade's fingers tightened around her arms. "I just couldn't stay away. Call it a deathwish, guilt, desire to make up for something, whatever you want. But when I ran through the ruins of my home, I knew I couldn't wallow in misery anymore. I knew… I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if I walked away."
Megumi's chest tightened again. "You make it sound so easy."
"Easy?" She chuckled, shook her head. "Kid, every minute of every day I fight the urge to drink myself numb. But I can't let down the thousands of people counting on me. My teammates, my fellow villagers. I don't particularly care what happens to me, but if I can do something to make their lives easier, help them through this mess, I'll do it. No matter what it costs me."
Megumi said nothing, he turned away from her, stared at the wall. Past it, someplace far away, far away from all this, and most of all from himself.
"You'll find your reason to fight again, eventually."
"There's no one left to find a reason for." The words came out flat. "I killed her. With my own hands. While Sukuna laughed over her corpse."
Tsunade was quiet for a moment. Then: "That's not true."
"You don't understand—"
"I understand perfectly. Sukuna used your body as a weapon. That doesn't make you the killer." Her voice was firm. "And you're not alone. There are people back in your world waiting for you. Yuji, Maki, Gojo. We saw your memories of them too. I might be a lousy gambler, but I'd bet my life that they're not just worried sick about you, but doing their damndest to get you back home."
"I can't go back." Megumi's hands clenched. "Even if there was a way, I shouldn't. Not after what I did. What I let happen."
"You're wrong." Tsunade stood, collecting her bag. "Those people care about you. They'll understand it wasn't your fault because they know you. They know what Sukuna is."
She paused at the door, looking back.
"And even if you can't ever go back home... There are people here who care about you too. Not just because you can fight Sukuna. Kushina doesn't bring you good food every day because you're useful. Minato doesn't sit with you because of your tactical value." Her expression softened slightly. "They care because they see someone who's been through hell and came out the other side. Someone who deserves kindness even if he doesn't believe it yet."
The door closed behind her.
Megumi kept staring at that faraway place. He couldn't run away from her words, no matter how hard he tried to.
People are waiting for him. People who care.
The thought felt impossibly distant. Like something that existed in a different lifetime.
Tsunade's words kept him awake all through the night.
His head was racing a million miles an hour. He didn't dare sleep, he couldn't imagine what kind of warped nightmares would greet him if he did.
By the time someone knocked on the door, Megumi knew he must've been awake for a dozen hours or more. His eyes were heavy, his brain fried. He barely registered Kushina's presence until she was right next to him, her hand on his shoulder.
"You okay?"
Megumi flinched, then stared at her. There wasn't that fiery energy in her eyes then, just concern.
"Just…" He shrugged and yawned. "Just one of those nights, I guess."
"... Yeah, I get that." Kushina moved her hand. She didn't say anything for a few seconds, then sat down into the chair with more care than usual. "Nine Tails doesn't let me sleep sometimes too."
Megumi's eyes turned on her at once. He'd heard about the creature before, some powerful, completely destructive monster with more chakra than anything else in the world. Apparently, there were lots of them running around, and shinobi controlled them by sealing them inside people.
He'd never asked much about it, not because he wasn't curious but because he knew it was a completely shitty thing to do to someone and figured Kushina didn't need reminding of it. She'd never spoken about it either, and she could talk about anything else for hours it seemed.
"He's been angrier than usual, y'know?" Kushina palms pressed against her stomach. "Since before we even left Konoha, he's been rambling on about… Sukuna I think. He calls him the most disgusting human he's ever sensed. Before when he tried to make me let him out, he'd tell me he'd end my suffering, that everybody wanted to use me… Now he's demanding I let him out to make the horrible bloodlust go away…"
Megumi didn't know what to say or let her talk on her own. As usual, she kept the conversation going.
"It's not easy, y'know? Having something massive, and angry living under your skin. Pressing against your body, your soul like an animal testing the cage bars. Somedays when he gets really vicious, I don't even feel like myself."
"That…" He said with a lump in his throat. "Sounds familiar."
"Yeah. I figured it would." She met his eyes. "But it's okay, I've got people around me to give me strength. Whenever I'm down, they show me I'm not alone."
"That's easier said than done."
"I learned that a long time ago," Kushina rocked her legs back and forth on the chair. "I'm not from Konoha. My homeland was called Uzushiogakure. But it was destroyed a really long time ago. When I came here I was a total stranger, besides Lady Mito, I didn't have any family left. It was… hard."
Then, somehow, she gave the biggest brightest grind he'd ever seen from her.
"Until I met Minato. I didn't like him at first, I thought he was a boring pretty boy. Then he saved him from some foreign shinobi out to kidnap me. After that I started making more friends, like Mikoto, who just sat next to me one day and started talking to me about all sorts of stuff. I wouldn't say I've got tons of friends, or that people don't look at me funny cause I'm a jinchuriki but alone I'm definitely not."
Megumi sighed, running a hand through the greasy mess of hair. "Look, I know what you're trying to do. But it's… not the same with me. Everyone I had is dead. Or… so far away I'll probably never see them again… Not that I deserve to."
"You sure about that?" Kushina tilted her head. "Because from where I'm sitting, you've got Tsunade checking on you twice a day. Minato and I bring you actual food and annoying you with conversation."
"That's different. You need me to fight Sukuna."
"Bullshit." The word was blunt. "If this was just about using you as a weapon, do you really think we'd be treating you like this? We're trying to help you because we give a damn. Whether you believe it or not."
Megumi looked away.
"Listen," Her voice softened, she leaned forward. "I'm not asking you to rush out right now and go fight. I know you feel like crap. I know you're probably terrified to even face Sukuna. But you can't let fear and guilt stop you from living. From caring about people or yourself. You can't let that four eyed bastard take that from you too."
Megumi couldn't say anything, couldn't look at her. For once Kushina didn't pile on the pressure. She left without another word. The tray of food she brought stayed on the table, forgotten and getting colder by the minute.
He sat in the silence, her words and many more echoed off stone walls.
We're trying to help you because we give a damn.
My sister's murderer is right here.
There are people here who care about you too. Not just because you can fight Sukuna.
Megumi's hands clenched against his thighs. A couple of weeks ago he said no. He didn't want to fight or suffer or feel anything anymore. So why didn't he? He could've pushed back, he could've over powered the guards and cut his own throat before anyone could stop him. Could save him.
Why did he let himself talk to anyone, eat anything, let their words trouble him.
He didn't know how or why but something had shifted in the time he'd spent there. A part of him thought it was nice to talk to someone, and listen about other people's interests. It didn't keep the nightmares away but the waking hours were…. Almost bearable. Sometimes even… nice?
No. His guts twisted into knots, anger flared in his chest. You don't get to feel that. You don't deserve it. You screwed up too many times. Just shut up… and let yourself die already you-
The sensation struck and overwhelmed him in an instant.
It was massive, all powerful. Familiar.
The same energy that had suffocated him for months. The inhuman hate that made the room feel like it was tilting, the walls pressing into to crush him.
Sukuna.
Megumi's breath caught in his throat. His chest tightened. The room spun. His hands gripped the chair arms so hard the wood cracked under his fingers, a sharp sound loud in the confined space.
The curse energy pulsed again, even stronger. He could feel it all over his skin, seep into his bones, strangle his soul. Not just its presence but the action behind it. Cleave, Dismantle, Malevolent Shrine.
People were dying. Hundreds of them. Maybe thousands.
Right now. This second.
His breathing came faster. Shorter. Not enough air in the room. The stone walls closed in. His vision blurred at the edges. Static crackled across his sight.
"He's-" Megumi shouted, turning the sound into a loud, strangled choke. He gasped for air, doubled over out of the bed and onto the cold floor. "He's on the move!"
The door burst open. Three masked people, ANBU he recalled, flooded in. Their presence made the small room feel even more cramped, crowded and oppressive. They were tense, arms ready to draw their swords.
Kushina pushed them aside, her red hair swinging. She was at his side in a second, hands on his shoulders. "Megumi, Megumi! You gotta breathe, what's happening?"
"Sukuna," He gasped. It tasted like poison, like blood. "He's fighting, right now…" He pointed a shaky hand in the direction. "Somewhere… over there…"
"That's north-west," One of the ANBU, wearing a dove mask, said. "Could be Suna or-"
"It doesn't matter," The second ANBU said, bringing a cask of water to Megumi's lips. "Get Lord Hokage, and Lady Tsunade here at once. Now, move!"
Footsteps running. Armor clanking. Megumi barely heard them over the drumbeat of cursed energy pulsing from far away.
Over the phantom sensation of Cleave cutting through bone. Over the memory of what it felt like to be Sukuna's passenger while he carved his way through thousands of lives.
"Breathe with me," Kushina was saying, her voice cutting through the panic. "In and out. Come on, Megumi. Focus on my voice."
Then she winced. Her hand went to her temple, face twisting.
"What—" one of the ANBU started.
"Nine Tails," Kushina gritted out through clenched teeth. "He's going crazy. All that bloodlust, all that," She squeezed her eyes shut. "He can sense it. Sukuna's reveling in it and Nine Tails can't stand it…"
"He's killing them," Megumi repeated, the words tumbling out between gasps. "He's going to kill them all-"
He couldn't finish. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't do anything except feel Sukuna's cursed energy burning in the distance like a beacon of death.
It was happening again.
And just like before, Megumi was powerless to do anything about it.