A trip to Hawaii (III)

(I) Megumi Fushiguro

Before Yuanli laid everything out in the open, this was what she told Megumi Fushiguro.

She said, "I'm someone who doesn't follow conventional morality. Like every villain, I've defined my own 'justice.' So, Megumi, you're about to hear a lot of things that are 'wrong,' but you have to believe that back then, just as I do now, I always thought they were 'right.'"

And so Megumi Fushiguro heard one blood-soaked tale after another, each set in a different era. Just as Yuanli had said, there was much he found questionable, even things he could call "bad." But when he stepped outside his own perspective and looked at them from hers, taking the times into account, that "badness" seemed more like a desperate necessity for survival.

Yuanli didn't tell Megumi Fushiguro her troubles outright. She didn't spell out what was worrying her or reduce the ideas that conflicted within her to a few sentences. It was as though she had broken a baguette into pieces, mixed them with thick soup, and fed them to him a little at a time. Megumi Fushiguro tasted those troubles for himself.

Then he swallowed without hesitation, deciding to digest those sorrows alongside her.

Yuanli's troubles were complicated, and the boy, with his limited experience, couldn't offer any useful advice.

Megumi Fushiguro didn't feel like someone standing at a lectern, answering questions and clearing up doubts. He felt more like someone sitting in a cinema, watching a documentary whose only possible audience was him.

He liked documentaries. He liked nonfiction. He liked anything that revealed the truth.

Naturally, he liked Yuanli.

But what moved him so deeply at that moment wasn't any of that. It was his clear realization that he was the only person who could watch this documentary.

Only. What an irresistible word.

Simple affection instantly distilled into pure love.

For Megumi Fushiguro, that love was extraordinary. It gave him the illusion that he and Yuanli were each other's other half.

Just as he trusted his arms, his heart, his lips and tongue, his eyes, Megumi Fushiguro wanted to trust Yuanli.

When the waves brushed the tops of his feet, he decided, in that brief silence, to offer her a confession of his own, meant for her alone.

(II) Megumi Fushiguro

Before laying everything out in the open, Megumi Fushiguro prepared to introduce himself the way Yuanli had.

He looked back over every detail of his past fifteen years, then realized he couldn't see himself clearly.

What kind of person am I?

Am I kind?

No. He didn't think he was kind. Compared with his former friend Yuji Itadori, his kindness was merely a compromise.

Megumi Fushiguro knew perfectly well that there was a dark room in his heart.

Then am I a bad person?

If killing were the only measure of good and bad, he could firmly say he wasn't. But "bad" often extended beyond killing.

Bad could mean watching someone die without helping, looking out only for yourself, or egging someone on despite knowing how it would end.

He didn't want to admit he was bad, so Megumi Fushiguro chose a softer word.

He told Yuanli, "Maybe I'm not a good person. No, I..."

"Don't rush. Don't rush to define yourself, Megumi. You can try telling me about your past first, then think about how to define yourself." Yuanli's voice soothed his anxiety, putting him more at ease than even the sea did.

He took a deep breath, calmed himself, and began dissecting his life in chronological order.

(III)

"...In the end, I chose to take them down with me... When I woke up, I found I'd gone back to being two years old... This timeline has diverged from the old one now... I want to change the Shibuya Incident."

After Megumi finished, I took some time to digest his experiences.

There were too many important points, too much unrelenting suffering. With all the boy's troubles piled together, I thought the only phrase that could sum them up was "saving the future."

He was living his life over again, so he was bound to struggle against his past "regrets."

But those "regrets" often lay in the future. That meant he had to race against time in his limited present, gaining enough strength to fight them and make sure he avoided every last one.

This went beyond being a heavy burden. It was simply too difficult.

My prolonged silence alarmed the boy, and he hurried to say, "It's all right, Yuanli. Just think of it as a story."

My night vision was excellent. Even in the deep darkness, I could see how vulnerable he was at that moment.

"It's not all right. Megumi Fushiguro matters to me, so the future Megumi Fushiguro wants to save concerns me deeply. I can't treat it as a story."

The boy's eyes, hidden in the night, slowly widened. His fragility and vulnerability lay exposed in the sea breeze.

"I don't want that," he said dejectedly.

"But I do." I didn't give him a chance to belittle himself. "Megumi, I don't want to live in a future where everyone is all right except you. Do you understand?"

Before the boy could argue, I continued, "Don't tell me it isn't my responsibility. Because it isn't yours, either. One person can't save the future. Let's put it this way, Megumi. Suppose you were going to save the future with a group of people. What role would you play on that team?"

I gave him plenty of time to think. I had enough patience to wait for an answer.

Using my own way of thinking to consider the question from his perspective, the answer I arrived at was a carrier pigeon.

A little bird that represented peace and could deliver information.

"I'm" not the strongest human. I can't save the world through jujutsu.

"I'm" not the brilliant Sherlock Holmes. All "I" know is a series of outcomes.

And from Megumi's confession just now, I realized he lacked a precise time for every major event.

In other words, he knew something would happen within a certain period, but he couldn't pinpoint the hour or minute.

That kind of foresight made it all too easy to miss a turning point.

What he could do wasn't grow stronger and change the world, but arrange every event he knew into a schedule, then notify the people who could reverse those outcomes as early as possible.

Even then, he would have to consider whether the person capable of changing an outcome would be willing to listen to him.

Satoru Gojo as he is now?

I had never met him or dealt with him. But several volumes of the Zenin Clan's intelligence reports were filled with his glorious exploits.

A sixteen-year-old who swaggered around acting like he owned the place, regularly destroyed swaths of buildings in Tokyo City without putting up a veil, and left the Higher-ups to clean up the mess; a boy who considered himself supreme, whose every expense was funded by a rotten clan, yet joked about destroying the Three Great Families-would he really listen to a two-year-old child's prophecies?

Even if he listened, would he have the maturity to deduce the causes from the outcomes, then solve the problems at their roots?

I didn't know whether he could, but I knew that if I went back to being sixteen in my third life, my answer would be no.

Without sound judgment, trying to trace the causes from the outcomes with nothing but hotheaded enthusiasm and vague prophecies was no better than looking only at an answer and guessing which question number it belonged to.

The defeat in the Shibuya Incident definitely wasn't as simple as Megumi had made it sound.

If villains who appeared out of nowhere could win, wasn't that because an environment plagued by internal strife and external threats gave them room to do so?

The roots of Jujutsu Society had long since rotted. Unless they were pulled out, avoiding the Shibuya Incident would only lead to a Tokyo Incident or a Kyoto Incident. No amount of cement could seal a wall riddled with holes.

To protect Megumi, I would have to force myself to support Satoru Gojo, the person he would choose.

Tch. I really don't like teenagers. Just thinking about Satoru Gojo gives me a headache.

But what can I do? He's the one Megumi trusts most.

Fine. I'll put up with it.

Just as I reached my decision, Megumi, who had remained silent all this time, found his answer too. But his answer surprised me.

He said, "A shield. I can be a shield. Yuanli, I'm not smart enough, rational enough, kind enough, or strong enough. But you have to believe me: I'm steadfast enough. Whatever danger comes, I'll stand unwaveringly in front of you."

"So could you be my one and only partner?"

I was truly, utterly astonished. "I... I thought you'd choose Satoru Gojo."

"But you're the only one I can promise to stand by without wavering."

Wow. This kid just said something incredible.

"Can you?" Megumi Fushiguro asked me cautiously.

"Yes."

I swore I would protect my one and only shield with my life.

The child leaned close and gently hugged me. "Yuanli, I'm not so troubled anymore. What about you?"

I patted his back. "Mine are settled too."

Megumi Fushiguro was my anchor in this world, and my one and only precious shield. His existence wouldn't replace the reason, but it was enough to let me forget that reason for a while.

At that thought, I suddenly began to worry about Toji. Of the three of us, he was the only one left.

"Megumi, let's go find Toji."

"We don't need to." Megumi's voice was muffled against me. "He's come to find us."

I turned my head and saw him coming toward us through the pitch-black night, carrying a lantern and an armful of food.

Toji came to find us, instead of us going to find him?!

Wow. Hawaii really was magical tonight.