Day 6: "What Have I Done?"
Whumptober 2024 Prompt: Guilt / Helplessness / "I should have done something"
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Megumi's fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles had gone white. He couldn't stop the rapid swirl of thoughts spiraling out of control in his head. The mission had been a disaster—one mistake after another until it all went to hell. And now Yuji was in the hospital, unconscious, all because of him.
"I should have been faster. I should've been stronger."
The rain poured outside the window of the dim hospital room, matching the heavy weight pressing down on Megumi's chest. He stood by the bedside, his eyes fixed on Yuji's still form. Yuji's face was pale, his breathing shallow, the bandages wrapped around his chest and arms stark against his skin.
It was Megumi's fault.
He could still hear the sounds of the fight—of the curse that had attacked them. It had been stronger than anticipated, faster than anything Megumi had expected. He should've realized it earlier. He should've drawn the curse's attention away from Yuji. But he hesitated, just for a moment, and in that moment, Yuji had thrown himself in front of the attack meant for Megumi.
"I was careless," Megumi muttered, his voice low and harsh. "He got hurt because of me."
Guilt churned in his gut, a relentless force that refused to let him breathe properly. He had watched Yuji take the hit, had seen the blood splatter, and for a split second, time seemed to stop. He hadn't even realized he was screaming for help until Satoru-sensei showed up to take over, the fight already lost.
Now, Megumi stood in silence, the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor the only sound breaking through the pounding rain outside.
He swallowed hard, the lump in his throat growing thicker with every passing second. He was supposed to be better than this. He was supposed to protect Yuji. That was the deal. They were a team, and Megumi was supposed to be strong enough to keep everyone safe.
But he failed.
He hadn't been fast enough. He hadn't been strong enough. Yuji was lying in a hospital bed because Megumi hadn't done his job.
"Damn it," Megumi whispered, his voice trembling. His hands shook at his sides, clenched tight in frustration and self-loathing. He didn't want to cry, didn't want to break down, but it was too much. The guilt was too much.
The door creaked open, and Megumi quickly wiped at his eyes, trying to pull himself together before he turned to see who had entered. It was Satoru Gojo, his face uncharacteristically serious as he stepped inside. He glanced at Yuji's unconscious form before his gaze settled on Megumi.
"You're blaming yourself again, aren't you?" Gojo's voice was calm, but there was a hint of something else underneath—concern, maybe. It was rare for Gojo to drop his playful mask, but this situation warranted it.
Megumi didn't answer at first, his jaw tightening as he stared down at Yuji. He didn't need to respond; it was obvious that he was drowning in guilt.
Gojo sighed and took a step closer, his hand landing on Megumi's shoulder. "You can't control everything, Megumi. You did what you could."
"What I could wasn't enough," Megumi shot back, his voice rough with emotion. "Yuji's lying here because I wasn't good enough."
Gojo's grip tightened slightly on his shoulder. "Yuji knew the risks, just like we all do. He made his choice to protect you. Don't dishonor that by tearing yourself apart."
Megumi shook his head, his throat tight with unshed tears. "He shouldn't have had to make that choice. I should've been the one protecting him."
Gojo didn't say anything for a moment, his expression unreadable as he looked at Megumi. Then, with a quiet sigh, he gave Megumi's shoulder a firm squeeze before stepping back.
"You need to rest, Megumi. Staying here and beating yourself up isn't going to help him," Gojo said softly. "I'll stay with him for now."
But Megumi didn't move. He didn't want to leave Yuji's side. How could he, when it was his fault that Yuji was hurt? He deserved to stay here and feel every ounce of this guilt. He deserved the pain.
But before Megumi could protest, a soft groan came from the bed. His heart stopped, eyes snapping to Yuji's face. Slowly, Yuji's eyes fluttered open, blinking groggily at the dim light.
"Y-Yuji?" Megumi's voice was shaky, disbelief and relief crashing over him in waves. He was awake. Yuji was awake.
"Hey… Fushiguro…" Yuji's voice was weak, but there was a small, tired smile on his face as his eyes focused on Megumi. "You look like… hell."
Megumi let out a choked laugh, his eyes stinging with tears he didn't want to admit were there. "You're the one lying in the hospital bed, idiot."
Yuji tried to chuckle but winced, his hand reaching up to touch the bandages on his side. "Guess… I really messed up this time, huh?"
Megumi shook his head, swallowing down the lump in his throat. "No. You didn't mess up. I did. I should've… I should've protected you better."
Yuji's brow furrowed slightly, his gaze softening as he looked at Megumi. "You saved me, Megumi. I'm still here because of you."
"But you wouldn't have gotten hurt if I—"
"Stop." Yuji cut him off, his voice quiet but firm. "It's not your fault. We're a team, remember? We protect each other. You don't have to carry this by yourself."
Megumi stared at Yuji, the weight of guilt still pressing on his chest, but hearing Yuji say those words, seeing the trust and warmth in his eyes, made it a little easier to breathe.
"I'm sorry," Megumi whispered, his voice cracking. "I'm sorry I wasn't fast enough."
Yuji smiled weakly, reaching out to take Megumi's hand in his. "You were there when it mattered. That's enough for me."
For a moment, Megumi couldn't say anything, his emotions threatening to overwhelm him. But slowly, he squeezed Yuji's hand, a small, shaky breath escaping his lips.
"I'm just… glad you're okay," Megumi said quietly, his voice thick with emotion.
Yuji's smile widened, even though he was clearly exhausted. "Me too."
Megumi stayed by Yuji's side for the rest of the night, his guilt still lingering, but with Yuji's hand in his, the weight of it didn't feel quite as unbearable anymore.