Chapter Text
The house is silent save for the labored breathing of Fushiguro Toji. He’s got Megumi tossed over his shoulder, cum leaking out from his ass in a thick stream. Tears also fall from his face, silent sobs wracking his body as Toji searches for a safe spot to put him down. There’s no sounds following after them – and that almost terrifies Toji more than anything else tonight. There’s no way a man like Ryoumen Itadori would let them leave this easily…
Finding a safe distance from the room they were held in, Toji realizes just how lost he’s gotten them. He finds a chaste lounging chair, and places Megumi down on it gently. His son looks at the floor with a face ruddy with tears and dried snot. Toji can’t clean him up right now – he needs to get those restraints off of him. He kneels before Megumi, feeling like a sinner comes to atone for the sins currently pooling beneath his bound legs, and unties the knots as gently as he can. The skin beneath the ropes is rubbed raw – almost bleeding. He wants nothing more than to take his son home and lay him in a bath, soothe his aches and pains with ointments and affirmations of love and affection. He’s not even sure if Megumi would allow him that, after tonight.
A gentle sound of crooning laughter makes him still in his fight with the last bit of rope. Toji’s not sure which way it came from – Ryoumen obviously knows his hunting ground better than Toji ever could, ever wants to – and he rips the last bit of binding from Megumi’s leg.
“Megumi! Come on, kid!” Toji yells, helping his son to his feet. He’s still wobbly, the blood trying to circulate down to his lower extremities, and Toji picks him up in his arms like a newborn. Megumi cradles himself against his father, nuzzling into his neck, shaking as if he’d disappear from his memory if they were seperated.
“I got you, kid. Don’t you worry, Megumi.” He says, kissing the top of Megumi’s head. Megumi flinches a bit against the touch, but doesn’t try to fight him off. That’s a good sign, at least. A crash behind them alerts Toji of oncoming danger, and he ducks behind a pillar, trying to find a way to hide both his huge form and Megumi’s dangling legs.
“Come out come out, wherever you are. The wolves are hungry, little rabbits.” Ryoumen’s voice is singsong, calm and steady. Terrifying.
Toji really wishes now that he’d brought his gun.
Wait…
Hadn’t they spoken about the two Itadori’s hunting before? If they can find the armory…
“Found you.” A knife slashes through the tapestry hiding Megumi’s legs, cutting into him with a sickening squelch. Megumi howls, and Toji takes off running. His hand clasps over the wound, trying to hold it shut, leaving a trail of incriminating crimson after them.
“Fuck fuck – fuck!” Toji curses, snarling as he slams into a bedroom, and barricades the door. Okay, maybe fuck the armory, they need to get out of here – fast. But they’re on the third floor, in a random ass wing of the house, on god knows how many acres of land away from any other being in civilization.
This is why rich assholes aren’t worth being friends with. At least here, it seems like they lost their pursuer. Toji takes the time to dress Megumi's leg, crooning soft words to him even as Megumi looks like he's about to pass out from the physical touch alone. It breaks his heart to see his baby boy like this – a way he swore to never see Megumi look. He settles Megumi in a soft armchair, away from the door, and listens.
Silence once again creeps in around the door’s hinges, and Toji steps away, lest the door cave in or worse. Returning his attention to Megumi, Toji kneels before him, tipping his head up to look glassy-eyed into Toji’s soft eyes as he asks silently for atonement.
“Megumi – kid, I’m so sorry, if I’d known –”
He’s silenced as Megumi flings himself into his father’s arms, weeping just a little too loudly. Toji shushes him, “Quiet! We don’t want to be found.”
“I’m sorry!” Megumi wails, trying to reign in his voice’s octaves, “I should have told you! I knew – I knew what they were feeding people, I knew what they were doing – I just didn’t think they’d do it to us!”
His words make Toji’s stomach flip. He grips Megumi harder, bringing him closer, as if he can wake them both up from this waking nightmare with sheer will and pressure. He wants to tell him it’s alright, that they’ll make this right.
But how do you make things right after you just fucked your own son, in front of a madman who also fucked him and his own son?
‘You don’t,’ Toji thinks to himself with a pit in his stomach, ‘You don’t, and you spend your entire life trying to make amends for the actions of a nutjob that drugged and kidnapped the both of you for his sick fantasy.’
“Megumi, listen to me,” Toji tries again, pulling himself from Megumi’s grasp no matter how much he wishes to continue holding on for dear life. He cups Megumi’s cheeks in his hands, bringing his gaze gently up to his own, “We need to get out of here. Can you help me do that? We need to get to the police.”
“You told me the police don’t do shit,” Megumi whimpers, and Toji can’t help but laugh shortly at that.
“Yeah, I did, didn’t I? But you know – with things like this, we can’t just stay silent.”
Megumi’s lower lip quivers, but he nods in understanding. It’s a hard lesson, he wishes neither of them had to learn it, but Toji helps Megumi to stand, keeping both of their eyes from looking back at the smaller pool of cum that has continued to leak out of Megumi and settle in the imprint of his ass. Searching through the room, Toji finds a couple pairs of pants and a night shirt – probably for guests to use – and gets them both decent. It’s a relief to not run around in the nude, especially for Megumi, who looks like he’s about to catch hypothermia from the cold chill that perpetually runs through the old house. A knocking in the walls alerts them to the door.
Tap tap thunk. Tap tap thunk.
He’s not sure what the sound is, but Toji doesn’t want to find out, and he ushers Megumi to slide beneath the bed in the room, hushing him as Megumi whimpers as the sound creeps ever closer. The sound inevitably reaches them and the room they’ve hidden themselves in.
Tap tap – the following thunk is accompanied by the edge of a hunting knife, sharp and glistening, plunging into the door that Toji’s head had been pressed against mere moments before. Toji’s eyes go wide at the thought, his hand slapping over Megumi’s mouth as he opens it to let out a small scream.
“Come out come out… wherever you are…” Sukuna’s chilling voice croons out. The two have split up, Toji thinks with a newfound fear. Of course – a pack of hunting animals corral their prey, herding them towards the slaughter without their even noticing the impending doom. The cold in the room deepens by a couple of degrees, and Toji shivers despite his best efforts.
The sound of footsteps pattering down the hallway alerts Toji to Sukuna’s departure, and he waits a little while longer to make sure the boy isn’t betting on them being too eager. He helps Megumi up, letting him prefer his uninjured leg, using Toji as a crutch.
The hallway greets them with an eerie silence, the hinges of the door giving little more than a soft whine as Toji eases them both out of the door. Megumi stumbles a bit, and Toji almost wonders if he’d be able to get both of them out to safety if he carries him.
It’s not that hard to carry Megumi – his lithe musculature a fine counterbalance to Toji’s own rugged mountain of a self. But the kid’s damnable pride makes him fight Toji every step of the way down the hall, hissing out that he doesn’t need to be carried like a toddler. Finally, Toji has enough of it, and he hefts a struggling Megumi up and over his shoulder, telling him to watch their backs, before taking off at a slight sprint. His footsteps are light – he’s grown accustomed to not letting others hear him as he moves. Toji was always told it was creepy how easily and efficiently he was able to get to and from places without anyone even knowing of his existence… but now, peering out behind corners and dashing to hide behind neatly placed, immaculately clean statues of the human body on display like racks of deceased animal carcasses, he’s grateful of his superhuman ability.
He thinks he catches sight of the outside world – outside of a window, overlooking the woods that surround the manor – a cascade of lights that wind and climb up and around the various hills of the neighborhood. Toji’s heart races at the prospect of getting out – being safe, again. He doesn’t realize until he’s mid air, Megumi flying from his hold, the trip wire that catches his ankle. It snatches his balance from him – the freedom he was so caught up in diminishing with every inch as he falls down on the ground face first. He thinks his nose is broken – a sickening crack reverberating through his skull as blood spurts out from the cartilage. A twang of pain shoots up his leg, pulsing through his ankle, and he looks up through bleary eyes at his son laying limply a few steps away.
From the shadows, a small figure emerges.
Sukuna stares at Toji with a sly grin, a mocking chuckle shaking his shoulders as he leverages the knife up to hide his laughter behind his hand. He stands over Megumi, watching how the other boy tries to right himself; it reminds Toji of a cat standing over its prey, playing with it, knowing its uncertain future lies in those exquisitely manicured hands. Megumi looks up at his school mate with wide eyes that glisten in the moonlight with unshed tears. It’s apparent, even to Toji from this far away, that he doesn’t want to give in to any more of the little sadist’s pleasures than he already has.
Sukuna straddles Megumi, fury and excitement mingling into a terrifying mix on his features as he dips down in a fluid motion to his knees. His hand clutches the knife that had been tossed by his father, the one that he’d impaled in the door earlier, and he raises and jabs it down before Toji has the ability to launch himself forward. Megumi howls as the knife embeds in his shoulder, the younger Itadori twisting it like he’s shucking an oyster. There’s a sickeningly wet pop, and Toji barely makes it to tackle Sukuna off of his son before Megumi is yowling in pain again. The younger boy fights Toji with all his might, but Toji’s muscle is more than enough to overpower him. Sukuna snarls, baring his teeth like a rabid animal caught in the snare that is Toji’s arms. A quick knock over the head silences him with a pitiful gurgling, and Toji watches Sukuna’s body go limp beneath him.
“D-dad…” Megumi tries weakly, his bloody hand gripping the knife handle, too scared to take it out of his limp shoulder, “I can’t – I can’t get it out.”
“Hold up kid, don’t yank it out –” Toji hushes him, shooing his hand away from the handle. He inspects the wound, cursing beneath his breath. He tries to not show on his face just how bad the situation is, but something must show in his deep green eyes that makes the color drain from Megumi’s face.
“Dad… Dad! Move!”
It’s not his face that made Megumi react like a startled deer – it’s the large riding crop that slashes down upon Toji’s back, shredding fabric and skin along with it. Toji lets out a shout of pain, doubling over to protect Megumi from any further blows.
“I should have known how useless he was,” Ryoumen says, tutting at his son’s unconscious form. He’s bare chested, but from the waist down, he’s back in his tailor made pants and shiny shoes, socks held up by those garters that clamp around his thighs. Toji growls at the man over his shoulder.
“You’re a fucking monster,” He says.
“No more a monster than the normal everyday man that lets himself be consumed by the monotony of this world,” Ryoumen responds, clicking his tongue as the heels of his dress shoes clatter across the floor with each and every footstep.
“Don’t get philosophical on me, asshole!” Toji snarls, collecting Megumi in his arms before launching them both forward at a breakneck pace. His back stings with the movement, the blood from his wound dribbling down his muscles.
Curling in over Megumi, Toji rockets himself forward with a linebacker’s stance. His foot finds Sukuna’s hand, crushing it beneath his and Megumi’s weight, and the young man’s bloodcurdling yowl of pain lights a fire in Toji’s blood as he pumps himself forward with adrenaline. He can’t afford to stop – despite the searing pain in his lungs. Despite the way his legs feel like he’s slowly coming to a crawl through knee-deep mud, the muscles in his lower body aching and screaming for a rest.
Ryoumen levels him with a curt smile, his ice blue eye flaring in the dark night like a flame burning at its hottest.
“You’ve a nice breast, Mr. Fushiguro. I think I’ll eat those first.”
“I hate to be the one to ruin dinner plans, asshat, but my tits aren’t for fucking sale.”
Another crack of the riding crop echoes through the hall, and Toji flinches at the phantom pain of the leather snatching at his skin, etching itself into his very being with barbs of coriaceous texture. His brain short circuits at the feeling, ice flooding his senses as he tries to make himself numb to the lash mark on his back that seems to flare back to life. He wills himself to put one foot in front of the other, to get away from Ryoumen’s stalking form.
It feels like the wound on the back of his head is trying to reopen, too, and he groans as he turns a corner with a wide berth. The hallways seem endless – a continuous cycle of repeating furnishings and potted plants, their shadows leaping up and out at the Fushiguro men with increasing intensity as the night continues on. Once or twice, Toji has to keep himself from flinching at the encroaching touch of shadow, their inky black tendrils reaching up and out of oblivion to rake their claws down his back.
He can’t stop.
For both of their sakes – he can’t stop.
The door lays before them. Down the stairs, as if he’s descending into the final level of hell’s cold claws, Toji feels his momentum pick up as gravity pulls him towards the finish line. His heart feels like it’s about to burst out of his chest – whether from adrenaline, or the amount of work he’s putting in to getting his son and him safe from the oncoming pair of maniacs – he’s not sure. His lungs feel like they’re being pushed to their limits, the capacity burning his veins with fire in each breath.
Bursting through the door, Toji takes in a large, gasping breath of night air. It’s muggy, the night filled with the scent of fresh rain and damn ground – but he’d sell anything he owns to be free of that mansion of perversion. He wants to stop – to try and clear his stomach and mind of everything he’s endured tonight. One look at Megumi stops him and he keeps running. He doesn’t stop until he’s well past the rows of small cookie cutter houses, and pushes himself past that.
The police department is around a corner from the school – just in case of emergencies, and this very much is an emergency. The poor sap on night duty looks at him with alarm, stands up from his chair with a clattering sound when he sees Megumi bleeding over the floor.
An ambulance is called, and Toji gives his testimony of the night… minus a few details. The ambulance has already taken Megumi to the hospital, but he’d still like to go and check on him when all this is over and done with. A squad car is sent out to the Itadori residence – yet, the place is empty. Multiple units canvas the residence and the vast expanse of land that it resides on… but no Ryoumen is found, and even less of Sukuna Itadori. It’s as if they have vanished into thin air, a whispered threat in the night air, caressing a ghostly touch that can never be scrubbed clean from Megumi and Toji’s existence.
The news doesn’t run on the Itadori’s vanishing act very long, and Toji has an inkling that it’s Ryoumen Itadori buying off the media. He just seems to be the very type to do that – but where he is, and how long he plans on staying in hiding, are questions that Toji can’t very well say he has the answer to.
No matter how much the cops may explain and speak over him, however, Toji swears that he’ll never let anything like this happen again – if it’s the last thing he ever does for his son. The end of the year comes, and Megumi finally stops locking himself in his room. The wound on the back of Toji’s back heals with time, but the craggy wound that sits between them any time either goes to take a shower, or to change, continues to fester and threaten to break open.
It’s a wound that Toji would give anything to heal.