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garden of eden

Chapter 7: poinsetta

Summary:

meaning: celebration

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“Maki and Nobara aren’t going to send the entire royal guard looking for us, are they?” Yuuji asks, then points to Sukuna. “It’s one thing for me to sneak off, but you? I have to practically drag you out to the festival every year. Somebody pinch me.” He yelps when Megumi does, in fact, pinch him on his arm. “Ow! What’d you do that for?”

Megumi shrugs. “You asked me to.”

“I didn’t mean it literally!”

“I’m assuming Uraume knows where you are?” Megumi looks at Sukuna. “I imagine they’d sound the alarm if you suddenly turned up missing.”

“Yes, they know.” Sukuna nods. “Maki and Nobara, too. They can handle the castle while we’re gone for a few hours.”

“Is that why Nobara or Gramps hasn’t come looking for me yet?” Yuuji asks.

Sukuna smirks. Mocking. “How cute of you to think that you actually gave them the slip today when I already told them what our plans were. Can’t exactly have the king and the prince disappear at the exact same time.”

Yuuji sticks his tongue out. “You suck.”

“And you’re a brat.”

“How dare His Majesty insult my fiancé like this?” Gojo gasps in mock hurt and wraps an arm around Yuuji’s shoulders. “By insulting him, you insult me.”

Sukuna scoffs and pulls his hood over his head. “Good. Maybe then it’ll teach you to keep your goddamn mouth shut every once in a while and take things seriously.”

“Oh, come on.” Gojo smirks, nuzzling his cheek against Yuuji’s. “We’re supposed to go out and have fun tonight. Don’t be so rude.”

Heat races up to Yuuji’s face. “S-Satoru—"

Megumi takes Sukuna’s hand in his before his alpha downright jumps Gojo. “Any plans on how we’re getting past the wall?”

“That’s where I come in.” Gojo grins, shifting his hand to Yuuji’s waist. “Hang on tight.”

Yuuji takes Megumi’s free hand, and one moment they’re inside the castle walls. The next, they’re on the edge of town, and Megumi is enveloped by the smell of food, the sound of chatter and laughter and music, and the hustle of people with drinks in their hands and selling and buying wares. Ruby red banners hang from posts, proudly waving the symbol of the Ryoumen Household, and lanterns are strung up as far as his eyes can see, twinkling and already lighting the paths to the various food and merchant stalls. (And is that music he hears somewhere? And singing?)

As he soaks everything in, he hears Sukuna laugh quietly beside him.

“I take it this is your first time at a festival?” Sukuna asks.

Megumi nods. “I’ve always wanted to go, but my father never let us. Said it was a waste of time. Said we didn’t have the money.”

“This land has been under our family’s rule for over three generations, so this week is kind of a big deal. Nothing but food and drink and dancing late into the night,” Sukuna says. “And anyone from the kingdom is free to participate in it.”

Only the tip of the sun is visible on the horizon, taking her beautiful colors along with her as the moon secures her own place in the fading twilight, bringing stars and cool air and a new state of beginning. The night is young, filled with endless possibilities and enjoyment.

Megumi smiles, holding Sukuna’s hand tighter and earning a squeeze in return.

He can’t wait to see and taste everything.

“Oh! Before I forget…” Yuuji reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small metal tin and unscrewing the cap. Inside is a clear ointment, and it looks like some of it has already been used, if the clear finger crevices in the surface are anything to go by. He turns to Megumi. “It’s a scent blocker. I always have to put it on because, well, you know. But you have a pretty strong scent, too, so wearing this will make us less noticeable.”

Yuuji has a point. They didn’t need to draw any undue attention to themselves. It’d be more trouble than it was worth.

Megumi nods, dipping his fingers into the cool gel and applying a thin layer on his scent glands as best he could while still wearing the cape. It doesn’t smell like anything, which Megumi supposes is the whole point, so now he can be easily mistaken as a beta.

“They’re waiting for us at the tavern.” Yuuji screws the cap back on and puts the tin back in his pocket.

“Who is?” Gojo asks.

“Toge-san and Yuuta-san,” Yuuji answers. “They weren’t able to make it in at the same time as everyone else, so they decided to meet us at the festival.”

They dance and weave their way through the giddy townsfolk, their energy seeping in Megumi’s bones, until they arrive at the tavern, a two-story building that’s made of cobblestone that radiates warmth and comfort. But they don’t go inside. Instead, they approach one of the table benches that two people are standing by.

One has short platinum blond hair and purple eyes, and he’s wearing a wrap cape, the high collar of it concealing his face as well. Underneath the cape, Megumi can see he’s also wearing a cream-colored long sleeve shirt, blue-grey pants, and black boots.

The other person has short black hair that’s parted to one side and dark blue eyes, and he’s wearing a loose white, quarter-sleeved jacket and black pants. A sword in its sheath is strapped to his back, and he looks as if he hasn’t slept in a few days. Maybe a week. If the shadows under his still bright and friendly eyes are anything to go by. (But there’s something lingering there that Megumi can’t quite place. It’s strong, lurking just beneath the surface.)

“Hey!” Yuuji rushes over, catching both in a bone-crushing hug, and the blond’s eyes crinkle in what Megumi guesses is a smile as he pats Yuuji’s back, and the dark-haired one looks confused for all of five seconds before doing the same as his companion.

Megumi, Gojo, and Sukuna hang back a couple of feet behind Yuuji.

“I’m so glad to see you guys.” Yuuji beams. “It feels like it’s been forever!”

“Salmon.” The blond nods.

Megumi tilts his head.

“Where’s Panda?” Yuuji asks. “Could he not make it this year?”

“He’s with Yaga-san,” the dark-haired one answers. “They’ll be here tomorrow.” He readjusts the strap across his shoulder. “Judging from the fact that neither Nobara nor Maki are with you and you’re keeping your appearance hidden, I’m guessing you snuck out again?”

Yuuji puffs out his chest. “Even if I did, which I didn’t, I’m too quick for them to keep up with me. You should know this by know.”

The blond shakes his head. “Bonito flakes.”

“Oh, come on!” Yuuji visibly deflates. “I swear, I didn’t sneak out this time. Everyone knows where we are. Honest!”

“I’m assuming we didn’t miss anything too important during introductions?” the dark-haired one says.

Yuuji shakes his head. “Not really. I mean, there’s news that Naobito brought up but it’s not something we can discuss openly here. It’ll have to wait until we’re back at the castle.” He looks at the blond. “Did your family come, Toge-san? Are they here, too?”

“Bonito flakes,” the blond says.

“So, you’re the only ones representing your family this year?” Yuuji asks.

The duo nods.

As the conversation continues, Megumi’s certain that he looks like a confused bird or dog with his head tilted to the side like this, but…

How in the world is Yuuji understanding him?

But the more he listens, the more he remembers reading about a family that only spoke in code, that only spoke with their hearts. They possessed the snake eyes and fangs seal on both sides of their mouth and tongue, giving them the ability to imbue their words with cursed energy and force those who hear it to obey, which is why it was dangerous to use any other words that weren’t deemed “safe.”

“Who are they?” Megumi asks Sukuna who’s on his left.

“Inumaki Toge and Okkotsu Yuuta,” Sukuna answers. “Toge is a beta and the third born son of Lord Saburo, and Yuuta is his alpha guard.”

The Inumaki family! That’s right!

“Oh, crap, I’m being rude.” Yuuji’s at Megumi’s side again, hooking his arm with Megumi’s and leading him closer to the duo. “Yuuta, Toge—this is my good friend, Fushiguro Megumi.” He smiles at Megumi. “This is Inumaki Toge and Okkotsu Yuuta.” He gestures to Sukuna and Gojo, turning back to Inumaki and Okkotsu and lowering his voice. “I even brought Satoru and Sukuna with me.”

Okkotsu and Inumaki both straighten and place their right hand over their hearts, giving a small enough bow that wasn’t noticeable to passersby.

Sukuna shakes his head, and Inumaki and Okkotsu relax. “Don’t worry about being formal with us tonight. There’s no need.”

“Otherwise, what was the point of disguising ourselves, right Sukuna-kun?” Gojo hooks his arm around Sukuna’s shoulders.

Sukuna deadpans. “Get off me.”

Gojo pouts but lets him go. “You’re no fun.”

“Let’s get going!” Yuuji looks at everyone. “I wanna do everything at least once!”

“Whatever my sunflower wishes, so shall it be.” Gojo grins and pulls Yuuji to his side. “Come, my love. The night is still young.”

“S-Satoru!” Yuuji says as he’s whisked away into the crowd.

Okkotsu looks at Inumaki. “Are we following them or are we going our own way?”

Inumaki points in a different direction than Yuuji and Gojo went. “Tuna, tuna.”

Okkotsu looks in that direction and nods. “Whatever you want.”

Inumaki takes his hand, and they disappear as well.

“Well, my love?” Sukuna says. “What would you like to try first?”

Megumi’s eyes dance around the different colors, his ears follow the different sounds. And even though he’s already eaten dinner, his mouth waters at the smells wafting from the food stands just down the path to their right. “I don’t even know where to start honestly.”

Sukuna brings their linked hands up and kisses the back of Megumi’s. He murmurs, just barely heard over the music. “Whatever your heart desires, I shall make it so.”

There it was. Time and time again. Without fail. Sukuna’s unending love for him. This undeniable, unmistakable freedom that Megumi had.

A choice.

A say.

Something so foreign and yet something he’d grown so accustomed to in these last three months. But there are sparse nights where he wakes in a cold sweat, staring into the darkness wondering if he’ll hear the telltale creaking floorboards as the handlers make their rounds. If he’ll smell the fading tendrils of a newly presenting omega on the cusp of their heat. If he’ll have to defend his rations because another bigger, stronger omega decided that he didn’t deserve his for that day. Wondering (and knowing) what would’ve happened if he ended up being stolen by the rogue alpha that night.

Wondering if fate decided to show her hand and yank the wool from his eyes. Laugh in his face as he had dared himself to hope. Dared himself to dream of a better life.

And Sukuna would stir, pull him closer, murmur words of comfort and assurance as he choked on his own screaming, his own tears, until he settled. Until he knew nothing but Sukuna’s scent and touch.

He belongs here.

He belongs here, he belongs here, he belongs here.

Megumi’s chest flutters, as it does in all things when it comes to Sukuna, and his eyes fall on the food stands. He points. “There.”

They travel from stall to stall, buying and eating various kinds of meats on a stick that melt like butter in Megumi’s mouth and trying candied pineapple and orange that spark and ignite on their tongues. And the moon is high in the sky by the time he spots a young man selling bread and pastries in the next stall over—braids and donuts and rolls that radiate warmth and are huge enough that Megumi swears he’ll need both hands to hold just one—and Megumi can’t help but stop.

“Those are huge,” he says.

“Would you like one?” Sukuna asks.

“Oh, no, I’m fine. You’ve already paid for plenty tonight.” How stupid was he to not have enough foresight to bring a pouch of gold with him? He should’ve at least figured they’d go to the festival at some point. (Then again, this whole night was sprung upon him out of the blue so he couldn’t exactly prepare.)

“You’re a terrible liar.” Sukuna smirks, moving them closer to the stand where the owner welcomes them with a bright smile. “Which one do you want?”

“Um…” Megumi scans his options, his eyes wanting to try all but knowing his stomach wouldn’t be able to take much more. He glances at the baker and points to a large, glazed roll that’s still steaming. “What’s this one?”

“That’s a honey butter roll,” the man answers. “It’s a popular one, along with our blueberry twist bread, but I recommend the honey butter roll if you’re not huge on sweets.”

Sukuna patiently waits for Megumi’s reply.

Megumi nods. “I’ll try that one. The honey butter roll.”

“Of course.” The man wraps one in wax paper and hands it to Megumi, gratefully accepting the piece of gold Sukuna gives him. He bows. “Thank you very much for your business!”

They step away from the stand and on the other side of the path, away from the constant flow of people skipping past them, and Megumi was right. He definitely needs two hands for this. But he bites into the roll despite his awkward hold on it. It’s hot, but not to where he can’t eat it, and the bread dissolves on his tongue and the honey drizzled on top sticks to the corners of his mouth.

And he smiles.

Sukuna chuckles. “I know that look. You’re enjoying it.”

“Mhmm. Here, try it.” He holds up the steaming roll to Sukuna’s lips. “It’s really good. And I know you’re not big on sweets so you may like it.”

Sukuna bites into it and his tongue darts out to lick the drop of honey that pooled in the corner of his mouth. He smiles, thumbing away the honey on Megumi’s mouth, and licks that away, too. “It’s very good indeed.”

Megumi sputters, heat coloring his cheeks and only intensifying when Sukuna laughs.

He reaches up to kiss Sukuna then, in gratitude and maybe in an attempt to stop the alpha from teasing him further, sighing when Sukuna pulls him even closer, enjoying the honey he tastes on his mate’s lips much more than his own.

“I love you.” Megumi breathes in the hairbreadth of space between them.

Sukuna’s eyes soften, a look reserved for Megumi and Megumi alone, and smiles. “I love you.”

After Megumi finishes the roll, they pass by a stall ran by two women selling souvenirs, trinkets, and a variety of different other items, and Megumi’s eyes catch two handcrafted wolf plushies sitting side by side and clearly meant to be a set. They’re small, barely bigger than the palm of his hand, and one is white and the other is black with white markings.

Kind of like Yoru and Yuki, he thinks.

And resting in front of it is an open music box. It’s small and round, with intricate embossed designs carved into it. The inside of the open lid is decorated with constellations, and there are two tiny figurines dancing in a circle in the center of it as it plays. Two children. A boy and a girl.

He remembers dancing in shoddy inns, keeping giggles to barely contained whispers that only made them laugh harder. Stargazing in the middle of the night, pointing to whatever their imaginations conjured up and wishing on the ones that flew across the sky. Promises made that were not yet kept.

Just like…

There’s another open music box right next to it, this one similar in size and shape, except this one is decorated as if it was surrounded by stained glass windows, each window varying in color. There are also two tiny figurines dancing in a circle in the center of it as it plays, and gentle blue light shines from below. As if they were dancing on water.

And he can’t help but think of the alpha next to him, of the love and kindness he’d been shown over the course of three months. Of those gentle touches, gentle kisses, and gentle words.

Maybe Sukuna would…

“What’s up?” Sukuna asks.

“Huh?” Megumi blinks. “Oh, nothing.”

“Anything you want from there?” Sukuna nods towards the stand.

Megumi shakes his head. It wasn’t fair for him to ask this of Sukuna, not after he had indulged in so much tonight. “No, I’m good.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

As they carry on through the night, they find themselves drinking wine and ale and champagne, leaving a comfortable and warm hum under their skin by the time they follow the sound of music emanating from the town square where a group of people are already dancing with partners in colorful, spinning blurs. (Or maybe that was the alcohol, he wasn’t too sure.)

Megumi slots in next somebody, Sukuna right beside him, and claps to the beat along with the others who have gathered to watch the dancers. It was too late to hop in since it seemed like the song was near it’s end but it looked like fun.

It looked like so much fun.

Maybe it’s the alcohol fueling him or maybe he’s just feeling brave.

But he wants to join.

He wants to dance.

He wants to dance with—

“Gotcha!”

He’s suddenly wrapped in a hug from behind, strong arms hooking around his shoulders, and the laughter and lack of scent tells him everything he needs to know.

“Y-Yuuji!” Megumi says, mindful of how loud his voice is as he tries to stay on his feet. “What’re you doing?”

“Hugging you, duh!” Yuuji says. There’s a slight slur to his words, and Megumi can smell the sweet wine on his breath. “I haven’t seen you in like… forever!”

“It’s only been an hour.” Megumi rolls his eyes and smiles, allowing himself to be held, allowing Yuuji to nuzzle against him and purr and drawing out his own purr in return. (Yuuji is family. Yuuji is pack.)

“Group hug!” Gojo calls out until he’s yanked away by the hood of his wrap cape.

Sukuna growls. “I don’t think so.”

“It’s just a hug!”

“You say that like I give a shit.”

“Yuuji’s right.” Gojo huffs and crosses his arms. If Megumi was paying any closer attention, he’s sure the noble is pouting. “You’re a stick in the mud.”

“Bite me.”

“Tempting. But I’ll leave that to Megumi.”

“You insufferable sack of—”

A group of rowdy young alpha and beta men pass by, hollering and whooping and laughing at the top of their lungs and clearly having had one too many mugs of ale. One of them plows into Yuuji, spilling their drink on the back of his clothes, and the prince almost topples over from the sheer surprise.

“Watch where you’re going, asshole!” Gojo shoves them back into their friends before checking on Yuuji. “Are you all right?”

Yuuji laughs, as one would expect of him. “Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

Gojo unfastens his wrap cape and makes quick work of Yuuji’s, covering the prince’s pink head of hair before he’s noticed and tosses the ruined one on a nearby table. And with Gojo’s brilliant white hair dyed black, it’s hard to tell who he really is.

Yuuji takes Gojo’s hand and reaches up on his toes to kiss the alpha’s cheek. “May I have this dance?”

Gojo kisses Yuuji on the lips—chaste, sweet—and smiles. “As you wish, my love.”

Then they’re out among the dancers, old and new, just as a different song starts up. It’s upbeat, a little on the fast side with hand drums and violins, but still teeming with fun and excitement and—

He grabs Sukuna’s hand, unable to contain the grin on his face as he drags his mate into the fray. “Let’s go!”

Sukuna, surprisingly, doesn’t protest despite Megumi having never seen his alpha dance before. But the way Sukuna holds his hand and places the other at his waist and presses themselves ever closer, he knows that he’d be a fool to doubt that Sukuna isn’t a surefooted dancer.

And now that he’s out here, now that he feels the music vibrating in his bones, he realizes that he isn’t.

He’s never danced with another person before. Well, he’s sure that he’s danced with Tsumiki at some point in his life. On the nights they’d hear the festival music when their father was away, and they’d dance in the dim light of their room, spinning and giggling until they were dizzy and their sides ached.

“W-Wait, I don’t know the steps,” Megumi says. I don’t know what I’m doing!

Sukuna smirks, a warm and happy thing, and gives Megumi’s hand a gentle squeeze. And despite the playful glint in his eye, he’s being incredibly sincere. “I don’t either. Just go with it.”

Megumi releases a shuddering breath.

“Do you trust me?” Sukuna says.

Megumi nods. “Always.”

And forever.

And Megumi barely has time to process what’s happening before they’re moving, keeping in sync with the music and other dancers fluttering around them, and they occasionally spin in small circles that has him giggling like a child.

Of course Sukuna would be confident in every step, every gap they slide through in the crowd while still holding Megumi and the rhythm, in every move that’s made. He’s sure the alpha had taken ballroom lessons since young, sure that there have been many a dance in his time as a prince and then as a king.

He doesn’t dwell on the fact that there may have been dance partners before him, that Sukuna has held the hand of another to guide them because they all led here. Sukuna twirls them again, out of his thoughts and dipping Megumi, making laughter bubble from his chest and the world tilt and whirl and sway beneath his feet. He’s lifted before the hood on his head can fall.

It’s exhilarating, this moment. This piece of time they’ve carved for themselves, even though they’re surrounded by others, even though Yuuji and Gojo (maybe even Inumaki and Okkotsu) are out there somewhere. Dancing and spinning in their own circles. In their own worlds.

This is them.

Their bubble.

And the song is over as quickly as it started, clapping and cheering filling their ears and a thin sheen of sweat on their foreheads, but they don’t care who’s around. Even as they kiss, slow and deep and out of breath with Megumi’s legs threatening to buckle beneath him, they don’t care.

This is them.

Their tiny universe that consisted of them and them alone.

And it’s beautiful indeed.

They dance for the next two songs until Megumi and Yuuji are a tired, giggling mess as they plop into a seat at the nearest table bench, followed by their alphas, where Inumaki and Yuuta are waiting with a fresh round of cups filled with wine. They laugh and talk and drink, the alcohol and late hour loosening tongues and lowering inhibitions where jokes and light teasing fly when it normally wouldn’t.

Well, at least until there are requests for more pastries and meat pies and water, and all three alphas set off in different directions to retrieve them. (Which, of course, came with the standard “You’ll be okay?” and “Yes, yes, we’re fine.”)

Yuuji rests his head in his hand, twirling his cup in his hand and watching the liquid spin. “How come your family decided not to come this year, Toge-san? Were they busy?”

“Bonito flakes.” Inumaki shakes his head. “Spiced cod roe. Tuna mayo, caviar.”

Yuuji’s lips quirk in a little frown. “Well, that’s hardly fair. You can’t be the one doing all the work.”

Inumaki waves his hand, shaking his head again. “Bonito flakes.”

“Yeah, but still. Just because you’re the third born doesn’t mean you gotta get the shit end of the stick. But on the bright side, I’m glad it’s just you two here. I don’t think I could deal with your older brothers for another second, much less the rest of this week.”

Inumaki laughs. “Salmon.”

The conversation buzzes in Megumi’s hazy mind and as he looks around at the twinkling lanterns that rival the stars, everything just a half-second slower than what it should be, and he knows he’s drunk. Tipsy, at the very least. (But no way in hell he’s admitting that to Sukuna, he’d never hear the end of it.) Festival goers mill around them, still dancing and laughing and drinking and chatting with friends, and it blurs pleasantly together.

Gojo returns with the blueberry twist bread and pieces of what looks like lemon cake, and Yuuji brightens more (if that was even possible) at the sight of his alpha. As soon as Gojo sits, Yuuji parks himself in the alpha’s lap, scenting and purring even though there was no scent for him to mark with now that he was wearing the blocker. And Gojo cradles the secret omega, smiling and humming and in content.

“Get a room.” Megumi smirks.

Yuuji sticks his tongue out. “I don’t wanna hear that after catching you and my brother making out in the hallway.”

Megumi opens his mouth to retort but it dies on his tongue because he definitely doesn’t want to relive that moment ever again.

“Ooh, sounds scandalous.” Gojo pulls Yuuji even closer to him. “Maybe we should do that.”

“It’s like you’re asking for my brother to rip your throat out,” Yuuji says, brushing back a few strands of Gojo’s hair. “I think you have a death wish.”

“And I think you seriously underestimate me if you think your brother can rip my throat out.” Gojo smirks.

“Don’t let him hear you say that.”

“I’ll say it to his face.”

Yuuji rolls his eyes, cradling Gojo’s head in his hands. “Just shut up and kiss me.”

And Gojo does.

Megumi offers a piece of lemon cake to Inumaki, who gratefully takes it, and grabs a piece for himself. It’s rich and soft, and the sugary drizzle is the perfect addition to combat the tangy bite of the lemon.

“Sorry I took so long.” Okkotsu places four cups of water on the table. One for Megumi, one for Yuuji, one for Inumaki, and one for himself. Gojo and Sukuna didn’t want one. “I was trying not to spill them on the way over here.”

Inumaki waves his hand side to side and shakes his head, lowering his collar so he can take a sip and revealing the snake eyes and fangs seal. It’s purple, standing in contrast with milky skin, and Megumi wonders if he was branded with that at birth or when he was an infant before he started speaking. The books he’d read with Nobara hadn’t gone into too much detail about the Inumaki family cursed technique (or any of the family techniques, just the basics of what they could do) and Megumi would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious.

But he wasn’t going to ask. Or rather, he feels like he shouldn’t.

Though he has picked up on what certain words mean throughout the night, and he was able to follow the conversations a lot easier.

The song that was playing currently ends, and it isn’t long before another one begins and Yuuji perks up.

“I love this song!” he hops to his feet and takes the Gojo’s hand and drags them back to the dancing masses.

“You don’t want to join them?” Megumi looks at Inumaki and Okkotsu. (And now that it’s just them, he can smell bergamot orange and eucalyptus though he’s not sure whose scent is whose.)

Inumaki shakes his head.

“Nah, my feet are killing me.” Okkotsu smiles. “Besides, I’m sure if I spin in anymore circles, I’ll be sick.”

“Salted cod roe.” Inumaki huffs. “Tuna mayo.”

“In my defense, you were the one who wanted to dance,” Okkotsu says. “And you were the one spinning me.”

Inumaki rolls his eyes but smiles and picks up a slice of lemon cake, placing it to Okkotsu’s lips. “Spiced cod roe.”

And Megumi simply watches them interact, watches Okkotsu happily take a bite of the cake and Inumaki thumb away a crumb from the corner of Okkotsu’s mouth, sees the light shine in their eyes and the smiles on their lips, and—

Oh.

Oh.

He understands.

He understands completely.

“What do you think of the festival, Fushiguro?” Okkotsu asks.

“It’s great,” Megumi answers. “I’m having a wonderful time. I’ve never been to a festival before, so…”

“Really?” Okkotsu blinks in surprise. He smiles. “Well, you chose one of the most exquisite and lengthy festivals as your first one. I honestly don’t know how some people do it. Partying for a week straight? I couldn’t.”

Inumaki glances at Okkotsu from the corner of his eye. “Tuna, caviar.”

“Well, of course, I’d come if you asked.” Okkotsu chuckles. “But we’re really glad you’re having a great time, Fushiguro! This is the most excited I’ve seen Yuuji-sama in a long time.”

“How long have you two known Yuuji?” Megumi asks, glancing back at the large group of dancers and catches a glimpse of Yuuji and Gojo, and the prince throws his head back to laugh at obviously something Gojo said.

Okkotsu turns to Inumaki. “About six years, right?”

“Salmon.” Inumaki nods.

“We first met around this time of year when Yuuji snuck out to the festival and Toge and I were already here. Toge’s father told us to go on ahead while he handled whatever business he had with the king,” Okkotsu explains. “We’d been here all of five minutes before Yuuji ran into Toge and spilled his drink on him. He felt so bad he tried to buy Inumaki all new clothes.”

Inumaki chuckles. “Salmon.”

“After telling him that it wasn’t a big deal, he tried to treat us throughout the entire night, but we wouldn’t let him.” Okkotsu continues. “And we had a lot of fun playing games and dancing. Then King Sukuna showed up. Well, he was the crown prince at the time.”

Megumi can only imagine how that went.

“Turns out they were looking for Yuuji all throughout the castle and were about to send out the guards to search for him. And since he didn’t tell us his last name, we didn’t even realize he was royalty until His Majesty arrived.” Yuuta takes a few sips of water. “I’m surprised, though. You managed to get His Majesty out here willingly. You should be proud of yourself. Yuuji’s had to drag him out here sometimes.”

“Did Sukuna not want to come to a lot of festivals?” Megumi asks.

Inumaki seems thoughtful for a moment and shakes his head. “Bonito flakes.”

“I don’t think it’s that he didn’t want to.” Okkotsu answers. “I think it’s more like he couldn’t. As the crown prince, I imagine he had to grow up quickly. He didn’t have the same luxuries and freedoms as Yuuji when they were young. By the time he was 19, he was already acting as king when it came to some decisions, so he probably didn’t have time. And I’m sure some of that was spent keeping the guards off Yuuji’s trail.”

Megumi can only imagine what it was like living as royalty. Living up to certain expectations. Being constantly guarded. Kept. Forced into a role that may or may not be wanted. He can’t exactly speak to what Sukuna or Yuuji wanted. Maybe they’re fine in this life they were born into. Fine with what fate has given them. Though Megumi can’t exactly complain either.

He knows that if his father hadn’t sold him, if he’d been obedient like the good, little omega he was supposed to be, if he hadn’t been so adamant about staying in the shelter, who knows where he would’ve ended up.

He doesn’t dwell on the what ifs and the might haves.

There’s no point.

He’s here now and there’s no other place he’d rather be.

“Glad to see you haven’t talked their ear off yet, moonflower.” Sukuna slips back into his spot at Megumi’s right and places the small tray holding forks and handheld, steaming meat pies on the table, one for each of them, though he and Megumi are going to share one.

“Hush.” Megumi deals a playful smack to Sukuna’s side.

After distributing them, Sukuna cuts into one first and holds the forkful of meat pie out to Megumi. He smiles. “Now, this is one of my favorites. Here, try it.”

The golden crust is flaky and warm, the meat and vegetables inside tender, all accentuated by various spices and Megumi smiles around the bite. There’s a small cloth pack that Sukuna’s carrying now, and Megumi cranes his neck to get a better look at it but Sukuna moves it from view.

“What’s that?” Megumi asks.

Sukuna winks. “You’ll see.”

Curiosity blooms in the back of Megumi’s mind but he files it away for later because they’re rejoined by Yuuji and Gojo, and they all fall into seamless conversation and laughter just as easily as they did before.

Tonight, none of them are nobility.

None of them have titles. Or responsibilities or worries.

Tonight, they are friends.

Tonight, they weave through the crowds and play games and dance to their hearts’ content.

Tonight, as the moon and stars shine as they do, they live their lives.

And Megumi soon finds himself carried to the castle on Sukuna’s back on the teetering edge of sleep, followed by everyone else, navigating through the quiet, dim hallways as they bid goodnight to each other and go their separate ways. He dresses in a silk robe and lies on the bed, in his nest, the world still tilting just a tad too much to the right.

He closes his eyes, trying to tune himself in to his surroundings.

Cotton sheets.

The soft creak of wardrobe doors closing.

Padded footsteps on carpet.

Sage and incense.

Breathing.

Wine.

Warmth.

Safety. Security.

Home.

“Are you awake, moonflower?” Hands card through his hair.

Megumi opens his eyes, his vision blurring for a moment before he focuses on Sukuna. He smiles, and he’s sure it’s lopsided and silly but he can’t bring himself to care right now. “Mhmm.” He sits up, leaning back against the headboard.

Sukuna sits next to him, and Megumi automatically rests his head on the alpha’s shoulder, but his eyes catch the same cloth sack from earlier. And that curiosity bubbles back up.

“What’s that?” he asks.

“Considering you’d never been to a festival before, I felt that it was only right that you have some souvenirs.” Sukuna reaches into the sack, pulling out the two plush wolves and the music box that held the galaxy within. He opens it, and it sings a light and gentle tune.

Sukuna…

Sukuna had…

Megumi’s eyes burn.

“These were the ones you wanted, right?” Sukuna says after a moment, after Megumi guesses he’d been sitting there quietly and staring for too long. “I could’ve sworn these were the ones you were looking at when we passed by. If not, I can—”

Maybe it’s the alcohol.

Maybe it’s the fact that he’s tired and his walls are lowered so his emotions threaten to burst from his chest.

But he wraps his arms around Sukuna, tears carving sudden, yet steady paths on his cheeks and soaking Sukuna’s robe. And his alpha holds him, kissing his head and rubbing soothing circles into his back.

“Megumi? What’s wrong, my love?” Sukuna murmurs.

“Thank you.” Megumi sniffles. “Thank you so much.”

And Sukuna holds him tight, kisses him, wipes his tears away.

As Megumi lays in his alpha’s arms, warm and content and safe, he is unaware of the castle being watched in the darkness and the shadows that live within it.

Or of the noble blood spilled that night.

Notes:

1K KUDOS AND ALMOST 15K HITS????????? OMG YOU GUYS Y'ALL ROCK I LOVE Y'ALL SO SO MUCH AND I APPRECIATE YOU ALL MORE THAN WORDS CAN EXPRESS

lowkey feeling inspired so i cranked this out and we're gonna start getting into the thick of it next chapter, so if all goes well, i'll cap this story off at 10 chapters, maybe 12 depending on how my brain works

quick note: inumaki’s family are OC’s bc i haven’t officially heard or seen their names so i’m just rolling with it lol

the entirety of this chapter is dedicated to my dear friends caroline and sydney bc they helped me set my brain straight and gave me ideas!! thank y'all, i truly appreciate it 😭😭