A/N: The semester's finally over, so I have wayyyyy more time to write for the next couple weeks :D

Content warning for the discussion of Junpei's scars.

It was Mahito.

The words hang between them, suspended motionless in the air. Junpei hears them, but for a long moment of awful silence, they mean nothing to him. They are isolated from each other, from him; each syllable chopped up and scattered. Dimly, he becomes aware of the fact that his face is tingling. His fingers twitch at his sides, but he can't feel them. His breath is loud and harsh in his ears over the thudding beat of his heart, and his mind won't grab hold of anything else.

Then, in a single, crushing instant of clarity, the words reach him.

It was Mahito.

His vision blurs, then sharpens, then blurs again. No no no no no god no. Darkness starts to creep in at the edges, and he sways on his feet. An arm reaches around his shoulders, and his heart seizes in his chest. The image of Mahito's slender, grey hand holding Sukuna's finger in front of him flashes through his mind, and he feels bile scorch the back of his throat.

"Don't touch me!" He shoves the arm away and scrambles backwards. He hits the wall, hands trembling uncontrollably, his vision too blurred to make sense of the shapes and movements he's seeing. A wave of dizziness sweeps over him, and his legs buckle under him. No no no I can't god no–

He hears his name, fuzzy and distant. He drags a breath into a chest that feels too bruised and tight to accept it. A chill follows in the wake of the dizziness, biting deep and cold, and the next time he opens his eyes, he's looking at the room sideways from the floor, a bruising impact echoing up his right side. He hears his name again, and there's a tan and pink blur filling his vision, dark holes approximating a face.

Nausea churns in his stomach, and he lurches forward an instant before bile spews out of his mouth. He takes in a shuddering gasp of air, the muscles in his torso spasming and his body weakly curling in on itself. He dry heaves, his whole body trembling with the motion, vomit burning in his throat and nose. Heat washes through him, prickling at his skin. The need to throw up passes, and he slumps back down to the floor, sweat sticky and cold on his skin.

He hears his name again, and he forces his eyes to open, blinking sluggishly and painfully to clear his vision. The blob in front of him gains enough definition to look like Yuuji, and Junpei stares at him dully through half-closed eyes. His throat seizes up again, and he rolls his face into the floor as he dry heaves, a trickle of vomit dribbling from his lips. He falls back, limbs dense and heavy with exhaustion.

A violent shiver seizes his frame, and cold sweeps through him again. He squeezes his eyes shut, teeth chattering uncontrollably. There are other voices around him now, muffled and indistinct, and he curls tighter into himself, turning his face away from them. Cold fingers press against his eyebrow, and he jerks his head away from them, only to have a cold hand grip the back of his head and hold it in place. The cold fingers come back, and his eyelid is pried open, a bright light flashing through his vision and spearing through his skull.

Mumbling out a groan, he twists away, and mercifully, the hand releases him. Another bout of trembling seizes him, and a painfully sharp breath hisses over his chattering teeth. The voices fade into a monotonous hum, lost in the overwhelming, buzzing exhaustion that drags at him. Bit by bit, his awareness fades out altogether, and everything goes silent.

Ieiri pockets her flashlight and rises from her crouch next to Junpei. Yuuji, Kugisaki, and Fushiguro watch her with varying degrees of visible concern. "How much did he get to drink after last night?" she asks.

"Um, he drank the Gatorade before he went to bed," Yuuji replies. "And then…" He pauses, brow furrowed.

"I made some tea for him in the morning," Fushiguro interjects. "Which he drank, as far as I know."

"I bought him some orange juice, but…" Yuuji steps over to the bed and picks the bottle up off of it, shaking it a little. "It doesn't look like he drank any of it."

"And that's it?" She looks at each of them in turn, eyebrows raised. "I thought I told you guys to go hard on the fluids."

"We've been a little busy," Kugisaki replies testily.

"I'm assuming from the contents of his vomit that he's had something to eat. What was it?"

"A piece of toast last night and a bit of a muffin this morning."

"And he tried to go to class today?"

Yuuji shrugs, looking down miserably at his feet.

Ieiri sighs, rubbing her forehead with the tips of her fingers. "Great. Okay. Let's get him to the clinic. At least there I can force fluids into him."

Immediately, Yuuji jumps into motion, kneeling down next to Junpei's still form and gently slipping his arms under his knees and back. He gets to his feet, his grip on Junpei white-knuckled, Junpei's limbs falling limply and his head lolling back against Yuuji's shoulder.

Ieiri turns to leave the room, saying over her shoulder, "If he seems like he needs to throw up again, try and get him so he's not face up so he doesn't asphyxiate on his own vomit."

Yuuji nods seriously, his eyes dropping instinctively to Junpei as he follows Ieiri. Junpei's body is still faintly trembling, and his chest rises and falls with shallow breaths, his cheeks flushed and sweaty. Yuuji cradles Junpei tighter to his chest, swallowing back the dread welling up in his own throat. He maneuvers Junpei carefully through the doorway after Ieiri, hearing Kugisaki and Fushiguro fall into step behind him.

"Hey Ieiri?" he asks, picking up his pace a little to catch up to her.

"Hm?" She glances back at him.

"He seems kinda warm, like he's running a fever or something."

She frowns and stops, turning to lay the back of her hand on Junpei's forehead. "Everyone feels like they have a fever to me. What do you think, Kugisaki?"

Kugisaki comes forward and puts her hand on his forehead in place of Ieiri's. After a moment, she steps back and says, "Yeah, seems pretty warm to me."

"He came here by himself last night, right? Any of you know how long he was outside for?"

They all shake their heads.

"Any idea how he got here? Bus? Car? Magical flying unicorn?"

They all shake their heads again.

"Because with the level of stress his body is exhibiting right now, I'm willing to bet he walked here."

Yuuji's eyes widen. "But that's, like–"

"A lot of kilometers? Yes, it is." She turns and continues down the hall, the students trailing behind her. "If I'd known that last night, I would have brought him to my clinic in the first place."

They all exit the dorms together, Ieiri leading the way across the courtyard to her squat little clinic. She ushers them inside, pointing to the first door on the left. "Get him on the bed in there."

Yuuji shifts his grip on Junpei to get both of them through the door. Kugisaki comes through behind him and steps to the other side of the bed, pulling the covers down as Yuuji lowers Junpei. He lays Junpei down on the mattress carefully, arranging his limbs so he's lying flat on his back.

"Nope," Ieiri says as the enters the room after them, pulling a pair of latex gloves on. "Get him onto his side. Remember the bit about asphyxiation?"

"Oh, right," Yuuji replies, and quickly rolls Junpei onto his left side. Kugisaki passes the edge of the blanket to him, and pulls it over Junpei, neatly tucking it in over his shoulder. As Yuuji backs away from the bed, Junpei convulses with a shiver, and Yuuji stops short, staring at Junpei with frantic worry.

Ieiri makes a shooing motion at them, stepping between Yuuji and the bed. "Get out, I need to examine him. Go to class or something."

Obediently, the students shuffle out. Yuuji is the last to leave, his gaze lingering on Junpei as he pulls the door shut behind him. Kugisaki collapses into one of the chairs in the small lobby, Fushiguro following suit a couple seats down. Yuuji sits down across from Kugisaki, elbows resting on his knees and his fingers clasped tightly. His unfocused gaze is fixed on the floor, and one knee is bouncing rapidly.

"Guess he's not going anywhere today," Kugisaki says, kicking her legs out and crossing her ankles. She lays her head back on the chair, closing her eyes. "And I, for one, think we earned a day off." Despite the nonchalance of Kugisaki's position, her arms are crossed tightly over her chest, the fingers of her right hand digging into her bicep.

Fushiguro's eyes flick past Yuuji, to the door to Junpei's room behind him, brows drawn together. Yuuji rubs one palm agitatedly with his thumb. Kugisaki switches her legs, and the toe of her boot starts twitching.

"Is this what it felt like for you when your sister got cursed?" Yuuji asks softly,

Fushiguro looks back at Yuuji, the crease between his brows deeping. After a moment, he says, "That depends on what you're feeling."

Yuuji bites the inside of his cheek, his brow furrowing as he thinks. "Like…someone I care about a lot is hurting, and I can't do anything to help them."

"Then yes."

"How did you handle it when she didn't wake up?" Yuuji's eyes are still on the floor, but his leg has gone still.

Fushiguro looks at Yuuji sharply. "Do you think he isn't going to wake up?"

"No, not like that." Yuuji shakes his head, brows drawing tighter together as he struggles to explain. "I know he's going to wake up from this, but like…sometimes I just get the feeling…" He chews on the inside of his cheek. "Sometimes it feels like it's going to be the last time I see him."

Kugisaki's head pops up, and she looks over at Yuuji. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I dunno, maybe it's just that things have gone back and forth so many times after the past couple of days with whether or not he's staying," Yuuji replies. "I just…I dunno, there's just this feeling that he's just going to be gone one day."

She raises an eyebrow. "Like dead gone? Or just gone gone?"

He blows out a breath. "I don't know."

"Damn. Well while we're sharing things we're paranoid about, I live in fear that one of these days my hammer's going to grow legs and walk off."

"This isn't funny, Kugisaki," Fushiguro says sharply.

"I never said it was."

"Then stop cracking jokes."

"Maybe first you should pull that stick out of your ass."

Yuuji snorts quietly, and they both look over at him to see a small, tired smile curving the corner of his mouth. "You guys never change," he says, shaking his head.

"Hey, Fushiguro started it," Kugisaki shoots back, sticking her tongue out at Fushiguro.

Fushiguro rolls his eyes and looks pointedly away.

"Oh, now you're giving me the silent treatment? Very mature."

"Since when have you been the expert on maturity?"

"Hey, I'm older than you."

"That doesn't mean anything, especially coming from you."

"Shut up."

"Gladly."

The two of them look away from each other, scowling, and Yuuji glances between them, his expression still quietly amused. Then his face starts to fall, and his eyes drop back to the ground. Slowly, resolve hardens his features, and he gets to his feet. Fushiguro and Kugisaki glance up at him.

"I'm gonna go talk to Yaga," he says.

Kugisaki scoffs. "Good luck with that."

"I can't just let him send Junpei back there," Yuuji replies firmly.

Fushiguro stands. "I'll come with you."

As the two of them turn to leave the clinic, Kugisaki slouches back into her chair and calls after them, "I guess I'll just stay here and babysit, then."

Nanami is seated comfortably in his armchair, one leg crossed over the other, a book balanced on his knee. As he approaches the bottom of the page, his index finger slips under the next page, ready to turn it. Then his phone rings from the table next to his elbow. His lips flattening into a line, he returns his index finger to his current page and lets the book fall shut on it, reaching for his phone with his left hand.

He taps the button to accept the call and raises the phone to his ear. "Nanami."

"It's Ieiri. You wanted updates on the Yoshino kid, right?"

Nanami uncrosses his legs and straightens. "Did something happen?"

"You could say that," she replies. "Come to my clinic and see for yourself."

He checks his watch. "I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

Yaga looks up from the report on his desk when a loud, rapid knock sounds on his door. Suppressing a sigh, he pushes the folder to the side and says, "Come in."

The door opens, and Itadori enters, followed shortly by Fushiguro. Yaga gestures to the chairs in front of his desk. "Have a seat."

Itadori's gaze flicks to the chairs, but he comes to stand in front of Yaga's desk instead, Fushiguro taking a position slightly behind him and looking thoroughly disinterested. Itadori's eyes, on the other hand, are intensely focused on Yaga like he's about to avenge some grievous injustice.

"Well? What is it?" Yaga asks, leaning his elbows on the desk and his chin on his laced-together fingers.

"I'm not going to let you send Junpei back."

Yaga's scowl deepens. "Oh?"

"He's better off here."

"My primary concern is whether my school is better off with him, not what is better for him."

"Sir–"

"He's sick," Fushiguro interjects. "He can't go back today."

A flicker of surprise crosses Yaga's heavy features. "Sick? When did this happen?"

"This morning," Itadori replies. "He threw up and passed out."

Yaga rubs his forehead with his fingers. "I assume you took him to Ieiri?"

Itadori nods.

"Have her come talk to me when she's done treating him."

"Yes, sir," Fushiguro says, turning to leave.

"Sir," Itadori begins again, standing firm. "I really think–"

"Itadori," Fushiguro cuts in.

"He needs somewhere–"

"Yuuji."

Itadori looks over at Fushiguro, brows drawing together, and for a long moment, they stare at each other intensely, eyes flicking back and forth. Fushiguro jerks his head toward the door. "Come on." A flicker of irritated confusion crosses Itadori's face, but he follows Fushiguro out, the door closing firmly behind them.

Out in the hallway, Yuuji hisses, "I thought the whole point was to get him to let Junpei stay."

"He won't change his mind until he's seen him," Fushiguro replies. "Nothing we say will convince him until then."

Yuuji glares at him for a long moment, his jaw working, and then his phone starts buzzing in his pocket. He pulls it out, and his eyes widen slightly. "It's Kugisaki." He answers the call and puts it on speakerphone, holding it up between him and Fushiguro. "What's going on?"

"Do either of you know what Nanami's doing here?"

Nanami closes the door behind him, and Ieiri jerks her head to invite him over to the bed, where she's bent over Junpei inserting an IV into his arm. He comes to stand on the opposite side of the bed from her, eyes scanning quickly over Junpei's body.

"Is he injured?"

She straightens and double-checks the IV bag. "Not in the way you're thinking." Satisfied, she turns back to Junpei and folds down the top edge of the blanket, motioning Nanami closer. Nanami obliges, leaning over the bed, and she pulls aside the collar of Junpei's shirt to reveal a narrow band of pale skin striped with scars. She looks up at Nanami, her gaze serious.

"Self-inflicted?" Nanami asks, his eyes still on Junpei.

She nods, releasing the collar and replacing the blanket. "Looks that way."

"How recent?" Nanami straightens, his impassive gaze rising to meet hers.

"Within the last couple of years, I'd say. There are some pretty fresh ones, too, and then some older-looking ones on his thighs."

"I see."

"It gets worse," she says, bending over Junpei again and carefully brushing his hair out of his face.

A muscle in Nanami's jaw twitches when he sees the round, ridged scars.

"I don't think those were self-inflicted," Ieiri says, letting his hair fall back over his face and straightening, arms folded across her chest. "Those are cigarette burns, and the face is an unusual place for self-harm."

Nanami's lips press together, and he replies, "His mother smoked cigarettes."

Ieiri sighs roughly, pressing her fingertips into her forehead. "Jesus."

"Have you told Yaga or Gojo?"

She shakes her head. "I'm headed to meet with Yaga now."

"Don't bother telling Gojo. His lack of tact would only make things worse."

Ieiri raises an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth lifting in a smirk. "Says the master of tact himself?"

"When compared to Gojo, everyone is a master of tact," he replies evenly.

"Fair enough," she says, then sobers. "Who's going to talk to him?" She bobs her head in Junpei's direction.

"I will."

"Sounds good to me." She steps around the IV pole and wheels it closer to Junpei's bedside.

"I would also like to come with you to discuss this situation with Yaga," Nanami says, moving to follow her out of the room.

"The more the merrier."

Yuuji jumps up from his seat as the door to Junpei's room opens. Ieiri comes out first, stripping the gloves off of her hands. Nanami follows, his face flatly impassive.

"How is he?" Yuuji asks.

"He'll live," Ieiri replies. "You can go in and sit with him if you want, since you're clearly not going to class."

Yuuji goes over to Junpei's room as Ieiri and Nanami walk out of the clinic, easing the door open carefully and poking his head in. Kugisaki and Fushiguro follow him across the lobby, hanging back. Yuuji opens the door the rest of the way and goes in, pushing it almost shut behind him.

Kugisaki and Fushiguro stop a few meters short of the door. "Let's leave him to it," she says, pulling her phone out of her pocket and glancing at the screen. "It's actually lunchtime now," she says mournfully. "But I didn't have time to grab my bento box this morning."

"I grabbed one for everyone when I realized you weren't going to wake up in time," Fushiguro replies. "We can go back to my room and get them."

"You grabbed lunch for all of us," Kugisaki replies as she follows Fushiguro out of the clinic. "But you couldn't bother to wake us up?"

Inside Junpei's room, Yuuji pulls a chair from the wall and sets it down next to the bed. He sits down on it, elbows propped on his knees and his fingers laced together, and looks at Junpei's face steadily. His cheeks and forehead are still flushed, his expression slack, his lips parted slightly as soft, even breaths pass over them. He looks younger, not as hardened. In less pain.

He looks like someone who might wake up and smile.

A lump swells in his throat, and he covers his mouth, an uneven breath hissing out through his nose as he swallows it back. He can see Junpei's smile in his head. He can see the way he laughed that night until there were tears in his eyes and he said his stomach hurt. Brow furrowing with determination over the stinging in his eyes, Yuuji leans forward until his face is level with Junpei's.

"I promise I'm going to get you to laugh like that again."

A/N: Junpei's finally getting help from the grown-ups :) This chapter was originally going to look a lot different, and then I realized that Junpei desperately needs a break. So I forced him to take one XD

Also it was unexpectedly fun to write Nanami's perspective? So there might be more of that later :)