i lava ur yuji and his sick senpai fic sm plz continute dropping these bombs
Yuji and his sick senpai part three | part two | part four ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ cw: flawed!Megumi, protective!Megumi, fighting, physical roughhousing, semi-consciousness, non-canon jujutsu science, implied dark past, mild dark themes note: hai! Glad you like ittt
“I don’t think what you’re doing is very healthy,” Yuji states, trying not to sound accusing. He fiddles with the zipper of his hoodie, which makes a buzzing sound each time his fingers drag it up and down. He doesn’t notice how the constant noise annoys Megumi more and more. Megumi stands with his back turned to Yuji, busying himself with organizing the weapons in the shed. They’re all wooden dummies, used for simple practice. The fact that Yuji entered that place just makes him more uncomfortable. Usually, only he and Maki use the fake weapons, and so it’s a place Megumi often finds comfort in. No one bothers him there. Except now, Yuji is there, he had followed him. His shoulders draw up and his spine curves a little inward, as if wanting to disappear.
“And what do you know about health?” Megumi retorts. Yuji doesn’t understand that jab. Sure, he’s aware he’s not an expert when it comes to the topic, but neither are any of the Jujutsu High students. So what’s the problem? Instead of indulging himself in technicalities, the pink-haired boy decides to go for a different approach.
“Why does it make you upset when I hang out with senpai?” Straight to the point. There’s no use in dancing around the subject.
Megumi tenses up further, his movements coming to a halt. The tonfa in his hands hovers over the plank he was about to place it back on.
“I told you not to bother her. And yet, you keep doing exactly that,” Megumi finally replies. He places the weapon back on the shelf and turns around to face his classmate with crossed arms. It takes a lot of willpower not to show how cornered he feels there, even though Yuji isn’t the type to be mean or aggressively insistent.
“I don’t think I’m bothering her. We have fun together.”
“That’s because she doesn’t know what’s good for her.” The reply is sharp, and Megumi regrets it the moment the words leave his mouth. He hadn’t meant to sound that patronizing.
“Hey now,” Yuji frowns and straightens his back. “Don’t talk about her like that. That’s not like you.”
Megumi averts his gaze, shame and guilt washing over his face. The feeling is uncomfortable, similar to when he opens an oven and the hot air hits his skin at once. He doesn’t apologize, though. His issues regarding cursed people run too deep for that.
Yuji’s fine wrinkles on his forehead and between his eyebrows deepen the more he thinks about Megumi’s words. He shouldn’t feel so much authority on the matter, especially because he’s your underclassman.
“Take it back.”
Silence.
“Take it back.”
A gust of wind that has found its way in through the slightly ajar door rattles the shoji, only stressing the awkward stillness inside the shed.
“Fushiguro.” Reluctantly, Megumi looks back at Yuji.
“You don’t know anything.”
“Talk to me, then.”
Megumi lets out a quiet breath. For a moment, it looks like he won’t. He’ll brush past Yuji, shut the door on this conversation the same way he’s been shutting everyone out. But he doesn’t move. His fingers curl slightly against his sleeves.
“I don’t want her to get worse. I don’t know what would happen if…” Yuji waits patiently for Megumi to finish the sentence. Megumi doesn’t. He trails off, his lips parting in an attempt to say more, but no sounds come out.
After a beat, Yuji speaks up again.
“Why would socializing make her worse?”
“It’s not— She’s just… fragile, okay?”
“You’re wrong.” This time, Yuji doesn’t hesitate, no matter how rude he may be. It’s so obvious to him that you handle things with so much grace and you’re definitely not a damsel in distress. He knows Megumi is wrong, and frankly, he is a bit disappointed in Megumi that he, of all people, would think that. It’s starting to sound like your sickness isn’t the problem, it’s Megumi’s weird overprotectiveness.
The boy is unsure what to do now. Part of him wants to scold Megumi, but it has always been Megumi with the brains and sense, and he has always been the voice of reason. This new setup is unfamiliar, and Yuji isn’t sure how to go about it.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but… I think it’s actually bad for her to keep her so isolated.”
To Yuji’s surprise, Megumi takes the implication pretty well, all things considered. He doesn’t stiffen more, in fact, his shoulders droop. In that moment, Megumi just looks tired.
“I don’t know about that.”
“You can’t be serious.” Yuji doesn’t want to believe that Megumi would be so… accidentally toxic? It can’t be. There has to be an explanation. “Don’t you have a patient to take care of?” Yuji blinks, caught off by the mocking words. He was just playing around with you. You seemed to enjoy it. For a moment, he debates keeping the conversation going but by now, he can see that Megumi is uncomfortable. He drops the subject with the drooping of his shoulders. “Yeah. And just so you know, our estabilishment is taking her care very seriously,” he replies with a proud smile after a beat. Yuji opens his arms, trying to lighten the mood. “And there’s a free spot for another doctor, it opened up just now.” Megumi sighs, then turns away to leave. “I’m not playing your stupid game.”
The best thing about having such a chill and sleepy senpai is that Yuji doesn’t need to worry about being too rough. Despite claims that you’re so fragile and sick, you can take his roughhousing without complaints.
Yuji doesn’t know much about actual techniques, he doesn’t train jiu-jitsu like Megumi or use weapons like Maki. He just punches and throws things. And you know how to land.
You’re barely conscious for half of it and still manage to tire him out.
The white training robe’s belt is looser now on Yuji, the collar slightly open. Your attire isn’t perfectly tight anymore either.
Other students don’t wear a hakama for training. The jujutsu school in Tokyo isn’t very traditional, and you don’t come off as a conservative person either. Yuji actually planned on just wearing his usual workout clothes, but when he saw you carrying those layered textiles, he immediately turned around and begged Gojo to find him something. It felt appropriate, and he wanted to be respectful. As it turns out, anticipating your moves in those baggy pants is difficult.
Yuji lunges again. He’s fast, clumsy in the way that makes him unpredictable, weight crashing forward, expecting resistance. You don’t give him any. Your body folds with the motion instead of against it. His grip slides, then catches, then suddenly you’re off your feet—lifted, turned—and dropped.
Your back meets the mat with a dull thud. Yuji freezes for half a second.
“…Oh—”
You blink up at the ceiling.
“Again?” you mumble.
Relief hits Yuji immediately. He’s getting used to your flow and starting to have a feel for your limits.
“Yeah, yeah, okay, good.” He grins, grabbing your wrist this time and hauling you back up with far less care than he probably should. Your feet barely settle before he’s moving again, testing, pushing, trying to find the point where you’ll actually stop him. It’s weird.
Technically, you have been losing the spar consistently, and yet he’s the one getting sore and tired. You must know some kind of trick to not take a lot of damage when falling. Now that he thinks of it, he has heard of the time Panda was instructed to throw Nobara around so Nobara could learn how to fall “safely.”
This must be an advanced version of whatever that exercise was.
Whenever Yuji expects tension, there’s none. No bracing, no struggle, your body just goes with it, like you’ve already accepted where you’ll end up before he does. You stand up, swaying a little on your feet, and Yuji goes again.
“You’re getting sloppy,” you slur out and grab around him by the nape of his neck with one hand, while the other presses to his side. He runs into you—the inside of your elbow—caught off guard, and you choke him for one small moment in a halfway headlock, then, with a sudden tensing of your muscles, you push him back. All the way back until he’s the one on the ground for once.
Yuji isn’t used to falling, so he doesn’t land in a very comfortable way. The air gets pressed out of his lungs, and his spine curves forward, resisting the defeat up until the last moment.
“What,” Yuji pants, looking up at you from the mat, “What was that?”
Even Yuji can tell that the movement was too precise and elegant to be improvised. It’s odd how little strength you had to use to carry it out.
“That was the senpai special,” you shrug, subtly evading the question.
“More!” Yuji jumps up immediately. As he steps forward and yanks you close again, he’s done it so many times now, you melt completely against him and go limp.
“Woah, hey—“
“Sleepy…”
“But you’re starting to win,” Yuji pouts, but when he feels how he has to keep you upright, he quickly stops complaining.
“Okay, let’s just…” Yuji lowers you on your back slowly, the loose fabric of your pants spreading out on the mat. He climbs on top to inspect your face and check your pulse. It’s low but strong, pretty normal for you. “Are you okay?”
“Mhm,” you hum in response, eyes already fluttering shut.
“You’re going to sleep now?” Yuji asks, already worrying about what he’s supposed to do in case you actually pass out. Getting you dressed in your casual clothes would be out of the question while you’re not conscious, even Yuji knows that.
“No, no, not yet, just taking a break.”
Yuji leans back with confused puppy eyes and sits up properly in your lap. No matter what angle he looks at you from, you look seconds away from sleeping.
“Are you sure?” Yuji tilts his head. In response, you just give his hip a firm squeeze and keep your grip on him like that. This way, he’ll know you’ve passed out when your fingers let go of him.
“You know, I was wondering, senpai, and please don’t be mad,” Yuji pauses to gather his thoughts, “I was wondering about this. You. How this works.”
You creak one eye open and furrow your brows at the younger sorcerer.
“Be more specific.”
“I just don’t understand because… you’re not narcoleptic. I think,” Yuji says, and his voice grows quieter as he speaks. Only now that he’s addressing the elephant in the room does he realize what a sensitive topic it is. He scratches his chin. The silence in the dojo feels uncomfortable, and Yuji wonders if he’s overstepping. “I mean, I looked it up on the internet. You have some other stuff going on.”
A small, amused smile spreads across your face, one that intimidates Yuji a bit. He rubs the back of his neck next, unsure what to do with himself. Sometimes people smile when they get angry; maybe that’s what’s happening. A smart person would shut up at this point, but Yuji isn’t smart.
He overexplains.
“Your pulse and blood pressure are low, and your skin is cold and warm in different places… and… and…”
The small breath that escapes your lips quiets Yuji. His thighs, straddling your lap, tense up.
“Curses form from negative emotions.”
Yuji’s hand drops back to your waist, and he pulls his lips to the side into a small, confused frown.
“I know that.”
“Negative emotions from non-sorcerers.”
“Uh-huh.”
You don’t sound angry at all as you speak, Yuji notices. This is just like when you explain school-related things to him, always starting at the most basic pillars and working your way up. And Yuji listens. Usually, he’s eager, nodding fervently as he soaks up the knowledge like a useless sponge that will spit out the information an hour later. This time, he’s perfectly still, his gaze intense and focused on your face.
You’ve closed both your eyes again. It’s actually pretty cool that you can speak about something so private while you’re at the center of the room, and the attention, nowhere to hide under Yuji’s weight.
You really are super chill, Yuji thinks.
“Sometimes, just one or two people can have lots of bad feelings, enough to form curses by themselves,” you continue calmly.
“Like if they’re really angry or stressed?”
“Sure.”
“You don’t seem angry or stressed,” Yuji states the obvious, as he does sometimes.
“I’m not, if you just let me—“
“Sorry, sorry.” He puts his hands up defensively briefly before leaning forward again.
“Then they often direct it at others. The bad feelings. And it’s like when non-sorcerers curse a hospital or a school, but they do it to a person instead.”
Yuji’s lips part, an accidental silent breath leaves him as he thinks about the implications.
“You’re… cursed?”
You don’t reply, you just give him another smile, softer, weaker now. It makes Yuji’s chest feel heavy, and the pressure even spreads out into his arms, to his wrists.
“But you don’t look cursed,” he blurts out, half out of genuine bewilderment, half a plea for you to deny it, to tell him it’s all a joke and you’re just a very sleepy senpai.
“Well, I fight a lot to stay human.”
There’s a lull in the conversation. Yuji takes his time letting your words settle in him. His eyes trail over your eyebrows, focused on the direction the fine hair is growing in, then your nose bridge and your tired eyes. You have dark circles and thick eyelashes, which deepen the hollows of your eye sockets. Your lips and jaw are relaxed, just like the rest of your body.
The ribs under your robe expand and sink evenly. Maybe you being so laid-back isn’t a good thing after all. With the new context, it seems more like a coping mechanism rather than real composition. Like you’re just cynical.
“Oi, senpai,” Yuji speaks finally, his voice lower and rougher now. “Are you saying someone hurt you that much?” The intense look he gives you is almost daring you to confirm.
Your smile doesn’t change, and you just shrug.
Yuji’s mind automatically wanders into an uncomfortable territory. You were very vague with your explanation, sparing him potentially painful details. That’s worse somehow because now Yuji is imagining worst-case scenarios.
Megumi’s concern makes a little more sense now. But doesn’t he see it? In Yuji’s opinion, you can fight better to stay human when you do human things.
You don’t respond. Your breathing slows. Your grip on him loosens just a little. Yuji notices immediately.
“…Hey.”
No response.
“…Senpai?”
Your fingers slacken completely.
“Oi—hey, wait—”
He leans down quickly, hand hovering near your face before gently tapping your cheek. Nothing.
He presses his fingers to your wrist. Yes, he did learn how to correctly check someone’s vitals just for you.
Pulse—still there.
“…Man,” he exhales, shoulders dropping slightly. His body curls up over you before he climbs down to lie beside you. Hopefully, his weight hasn’t cut off the circulation in your legs too much.
Yuji shifts onto his back, one arm tucked under his head, the other resting loosely over his stomach. He stares up at the ceiling for a while. He should probably text Maki or Nobara to help change your clothes.
“…You really just drop anywhere, huh…”
Your condition, or rather your backstory, shouldn’t surprise him. Gojo seems to be going for the strays. Yuji knows that all too well.
Megumi’s words echo in his head. What does it mean for you to get worse? What does it mean for a cursed person to be worse? More sleep?
໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ all rights reserved. no translations, plagiarism, modifications, reposts, or ai feeding. disturbing comments will be deleted. english is not my native language.