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Cursed Guardians (A JJK Fic)

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“Do you hate humans, Sukuna?” The question escaped Ryomen’s mouth before he could think twice about his words. It had been a year since he had met Sukuna, and the thought had plagued him ever since.

With a piece of suspiciously-sourced meat in his mouth, the curse looked at him with a raised, unimpressed brow. His face irked Ryomen. They looked like twins, which only served to remind Ryomen of the reason why he had endured such torment. Two faces. That was what his name meant, and he finally realized that the second face was Sukuna. Two sides of the same coin. 

He hated it.

“Why would you ask me about such a useless topic?”

“Humor me.”

“...Alright. In truth, I cannot say that I hate humans. I simply hate what is weak. While a majority of humans do qualify as pitfully weak, there are a few notable ones that I cannot ignore. If one is strong, then I could care less about if they were human or not.”

Ryomen went silent for a long, long time. Then, he started to laugh. “I did not expect that. It seems that I’ve misjudged you.”

“How so?”

“I thought you were a monster that only craved power and bloodshed, but there is something else to you that I foolishly ignored.”

“It would not be the first time one thought of me as mindless. Tell me, what is this ‘grande epiphany’ you have gotten about me?”

“You’re kind. Far kinder than I could ever be.”

.

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-

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The worst part of Ryomen’s day was always waking up. 

Some said that new days brought new beginnings. Others said that new days brought new challenges. Ryomen believed neither. To him, a new day brought old memories. It sounded like a contradictory statement, but when this was your second life, it was easy to be reminded of things from your first one in every little thing. Simply waking up in a warm bed caused countless memories to resurface. Memories of him sleeping on dirt or straw, daydreaming of laying on something softer. Memories of him using a burlap sack as a blanket on his luckiest days. Memories of him begging for a place to rest during the worst of winter and being denied on every occasion. The fact that he now had a comfortable bed with soft sheets and fluffy blankets was still difficult to believe. He had been raised to survive, and no amount of time could take that instinct away. Even after one thousand years. There would always be a part of him that was prepared to return to the streets, that he should not become accustomed to living a comfortable life. That it would be taken from him soon enough and he’d be back to where he started. Starving. Cold. Hurt. And so, so alone.

“Dammit.” Ryomen whispered to himself, forcing his darkening thoughts to quiet. He pressed his palms into his eyes and sighed harshly. The day had barely started, yet he was already spiraling. With little grace, he took off the silk covers of his bed and stood up to head to his bathroom. Having a bathroom attached to one’s room seemed like the height of luxury to Ryomen when he first learned of it. Little did he know that plumbing and electricity was just the tip of the iceberg. The modern era was so advanced that Ryomen had a difficult time believing sorcery was not involved in some capacity. In truth, the only magic at play was human ingenuity. If he did not hate humans as much as he did, then he would have felt respect for them. 

He would never respect a human.

Technically, sorcerers were humans. The only difference is that they had inhuman abilities. It was still enough for Ryomen to separate the two. Humans and sorcerers were two different species in his mind. He hated both, but one of them was far worse in his eyes. 

It had been the human villagers who had scorned him, the villagers who had beat him, the villagers who had hated every fiber of his being.

So he would hate them in turn. 

The pink-haired man silently turned on the shower, hoping the noise would stop his thoughts all together. Ryomen knew he had a bad habit of overthinking. It was what he needed to do to live another day in the Heian Era. He had to think of every possibility and how to deal with it if he were to survive. Staying alert and aware kept him safe. While Ryomen knew he did not need such a mindset anymore, accepting it was far more difficult than acknowledging the problem. The modern world they lived in was not free of its dangers either. In fact, it was more dangerous than the Heian Era.  His old life had been dangerous because he was always at risk of dying from starvation, dehydration, or hypothermia. With Sukuna, things were much less risky from the power they wielded. Now, the one Ryomen treasured the most was in danger of being taken or killed by a monster named Kenjaku. Losing Yuuji once had broken Ryomen beyond repair. The only reason that he had continued to live after his death was due to Sukuna’s piecing him back together. If he lost Yuuji a second time, then there would not be anything left for even Sukuna to heal. 

Not caring if the water was too hot or cold, Ryomen abruptly stepped into the shower. Luck seemed to favor him for once as the water was a perfect temperature. A comforting warmth dripped down his back until the feeling of wet clothes broke him out of his reprieve. Oh. He had completely forgotten to undress. Fuck, I’m really out of it today. After he quickly discarded his sleepwear, Ryomen returned to the warm water with a soft sigh. Each droplet felt like bliss against his scarred back. It was a permanent reminder of the cruelty the villagers were capable of. The raised flesh bore the scars of brutal lashings, most of them were caused by a chain. The chain that had belonged to the farmer Ryomen had frequently stolen from. The same chain that Ryomen had welded into a makeshift weapon. Despite it being centuries since the injuries were inflicted, Ryomen’s scars would forever cause him great pain. Reverse cursed technique could do nothing against scars or phantom pains, so Ryomen knew he would have to live with it. Additionally, there was light scarring around the tattoos that circled his thighs and calves. In his youth, there had been other street urchins who he had to compete for resources with. They enjoyed tormenting him by slicing into the markings that labeled him as a blight amongst the village. Similar to painting over a bland wall, they had wanted to cover his unsightly markings with something better. Before they could cover the entirety of his markings with scars, Ryomen learned how to defend himself and give them scars of their own. Thankfully, the scars along the tattoos on his legs brought him no discomfort. Only Sukuna and himself knew of their existence as the black coloring of the tattoos hid the scars quite well. 

There had once been a time where Ryomen had been ashamed of his scars, but someone had made him realize the truth of scars. 

It was one of the only things he could remember about Yuuji’s mother.

“The marks of your flesh tell quite a story. One that is painful and pathetic but one that is triumphant and wise. It speaks of your failures and your successes. It shows the strength you have gained to survive and the knowledge you have gained to prevent such scars from forming ever again.” 

He had only known her for mere weeks when they had laid together after a long night of drinking sake she had stolen. Even so, Ryomen had loved her deeply. The kindness she showed him made someone as touch-starved and lonely as Ryomen become foolish. Even so, he was grateful to her for giving him Yuuji. He just wished that she had not been a part of the clan he despised so much. The Itadori Clan. But he knew better than anyone that one could not control where they were born into. If it wasn’t for her, Ryomen would not have known the true reason as to why he was cursed to live such a tortured life. 

“I recognize you. You’re a Ryomen, correct? My clan has spun many tales about your kind. The ‘Two Faced Demon’ is what they call you. A being that appears during a twin pregnancy, consuming both fetuses within and using the mother for nutrients until she dies. All Ryomen’s are born with black markings that make them easy to detect. The demon has plagued the Itadori Clan for generations, but would you like to know the truth? It’s a lie my clan has spun to clear its name of any wrongdoing. When a servant or consort becomes pregnant by an Itadori member, she is sentenced to death in the guise that she was carrying a Ryomen demon. Your mother was just another whore they killed to keep their name and their bloodline clean. The only reason you were not killed was because your mother ran away before she gave birth. She was caught eventually, and we thought that you would die to the elements without her. I am glad that you survived. When my clan told me the story of your mother, it planted seeds of doubt within me as a child. Now, I hope that I can help you bring justice to you, your mother, and all that have fallen due to the Itadori’s deceit.”

Ryomen could barely remember her face, but he would never forget her words. For years, he had wondered as to why the gods had forsaken him. In truth, it had never been the gods. It had been the Itadori Clan. They had labeled him as a demon and had likely spread their tales to the masses, his village being one of the fools who believed them. At least, he had gotten his revenge on both. 

Steam billowed out of the shower as the water against Ryomen’s back immediately evaporated. Whenever he was too emotional, his cursed energy would become unstable like the fire he wielded. The anger he felt towards that clan would never fade. However, he had more important things to do. Losing himself in rage was not what he needed for today. He would be testing the four sorcerers for the final time to see if their alliance was something worth keeping. It was a four day event, one day dedicated to each sorcerer. Yesterday was Nanami’s test, and the man passed with flying colors. His natural durability and ability to remain calm under pressure was impressive. Out of all the sorcerers the pink haired man had come to know, Nanami was the one who Ryomen could respect the most. The blonde’s morals were unbreakable. His dedication to protecting his son was truly proven the previous day. Now, Getou was up next. 

Breakfast first. Test later. Ryomen scolded himself. He finished his shower and dried off, trying to free his mind of any further memories or thoughts. There was a six-year-old he needed to check on, so losing himself in his worries was not an option. On autopilot, he dressed himself, brushed his teeth, shaved any stubble, and made his way to his son’s room. 

Only to have his stomach drop. 

Yuuji was clearly having a nightmare, but there was something off about this one. Blood. Crimson streamed from his nose, mouth, ears, and eyes. The boy’s brow was furrowed in distress while his lips muttered a string of pleas to stop. All of his guardians were surrounding him to attempt to comfort him. Once he ran to his son’s bed, he could see the bloodstains all over his blankets. His heart was beating out of his chest. Yuuji was hurt. His son was hurt and crying and scared. Supernova, who was curled around the sobbing boy’s neck, looked the most unsettled he had ever seen the normally calm cat. Chitters of worry came from Chimera and Resonance. Whines escaped from Boogie. Overtime was using his wrappings to card through the child’s hair. 

“What happened?” Ryomen snapped his head to Infinite. The feathered dragon was already staring back, something that the man could feel behind the being’s mask. Infinite had been a huge help in figuring out the treatment for his son’s nightmares. Like Gojo, the cursed soul had unique eyes that could see the unseeable. “Infinite. What. Happened.” 

Infinite clicked sharply at the other cursed souls as he left the rafters. All but Supernova moved to provide pace for the largest of the group. He cooed at Yuuji in an attempt to wake him up, but it did not work. Yuuji continued to cry and bleed. Ryomen felt himself trembling at the sight. Flashbacks of angry shouts, burning flesh, Yuuji’s cold body in his arms filled his mind without mercy. As if knowing the panic about to erupt in Ryomen, Infinite trilled loudly to stop the upcoming spiral. Without glancing at the other, the draconic bird gently pressed his beak against Yuuji’s forehead. Silence filled the room, Ryomen waiting his baited breath, as Infinite looked into the child’s mind. 

Then Infinite wrenched his head away as if he was burned, screeching. 

“WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?!” Sukuna appeared out of thin air, his voice like a thunderous boom. When his gaze locked onto Yuuji, the curse gasped. “Shit! Move out of the way, you dumb bird!” He pushed Infinite out of the way and scooped up the boy in his bottom pair of arms. Supernova snarled, but Sukuna paid it no mind. The curse’s palms glowed a gentle white as his Sukuna’s reverse cursed technique activated. He used his upper pair of hands to begin healing whatever damage Yuuji had incurred. His eyes screwed shut and his mouth turned downwards in a scowl. After a few moments, Yuuji’s cries stopped as well as any further bleeding. Sukuna opened his eyes with an indescribable emotion with them. “He was bleeding internally. The damage his organs sustained was from blunt force trauma, but there is no way that someone was able to break in and hurt him without anyone realizing. The brat isn’t strong enough to do that damage to himself either-”

A shrill squawk interrupted the curse. Infinite was shaking his head vehemently. It was evident that the cursed soul was trying to communicate what he had seen in whatever way he could. His tail opened to the fullest extent, the countless eyes within looking as panicked as Ryomen felt. Complex patterns of trills and chirps came from Infinite. Seeing that neither Ryomen or Sukuna understood, Infinite snapped his beak at the air in frustration. He turned towards Chimera and shared chitters with the shadow being. 

“He saw something, right?” Sukuna asked the other man. 

No response came from Ryomen. His mind could only process Yuuji’s bloodstained face and cries. Why. Why now. Why. NOW. Why does his son always have to suffer? It was not fair. Yuuji was an innocent child who had always been kind to others. He was gentle, selfless, considerate, and so much better than any other person. Yet, time and time again, Yuuji only suffered. First, it was the treatment his son received in their village. Second, the refusal of his elders to treat his ill son during a plague. Then, his son died a slow death that could have been prevented. If it wasn’t for Sukuna, then Yuuji would not have had this second chance. Ryomen had given his soul and body for Yuuji, yet it wasn’t enough. Yuuji had his guardians, Sukuna, and Ryomen to protect him in this new life. Sukuna had gone to great lengths to ensure his nephew’s safety. It wasn’t enough. When would it ever be enough? Ryomen had even allied with sorcerers, something he would have never imagined, to provide more protection to Yuuji. These next couple days were for said sorcerers, who were being tested to see if they are fit for Yuuji. Everything was for Yuuji as Yuuji deserved everything. 

And Yuuji was hurting.

It felt like all the years Ryomen had spent securing the shrine, improving his own techniques, creating a safe house if things went wrong, and overseeing the training of four sorcerers was all for naught. What was the point of all his efforts if Yuuji continued to suffer? What kind of father helplessly watched their child be tormented by nightmares? A useless coward. 

Ryomen was useless. 

He knew how to survive through the harshest winters and summers

He knew how to survive without access to a crumb of food or droplet of water.

He knew how to defeat several opponents at once. 

He knew how to turn entire armies into nothing but smoldering ash.

He knew how to make himself a weapon capable of killing the strongest of sorcerers.

He knew how to remain undetected from his enemies.

He knew how to wield his cursed energy with the same expertise as Sukuna.

He knew how to defend himself.

He knew how to hide.

He knew how to kill whoever crossed him.

But he did not know how to help the person he loved most. 

His precious son. His little cub. His pain never stopped. Was it Ryomen’s fault? Had he angered some greater power by bringing Yuuji back to life? Did Yuuji’s suffering become worse because of Ryomen?

Was resurrecting Yuuji a mistake?

No. Ryomen immediately told himself. It would never be a mistake. 

Even as he saw Chimera’s eyelights twist into an image of his son being beaten by an unknown figure, the pink-haired man refused to entertain such a thought. His nails threatened to puncture his skin with how tightly his fists were clenched. He would find a way to stop Yuuji’s nightmares. It was his job as his father to protect him. Ryomen had been shielding his son from the outside world for good reason. Kenjaku was out there, waiting for the correct moment to strike. However, Ryomen had failed to shield Yuuji from himself. For whatever reason, Yuuji’s mind seemed to only work against the boy. 

“Someone was hurting him in his dream, and the damage appeared on his physical body.” Beside him, Sukuna translated the image Chimera had shown. 

It was troubling news. Ryomen could not help but reach out to Supernova in order to soothe his shot nerves with the cat’s soft fur. Luckily, the feline allowed it. The stress was a shared feeling amongst himself, Sukuna, and the guardians. “How can a nightmare do something like that?”

“A regular nightmare can’t. It’s impossible. For damage within the mind to transfer into damage to the body could only mean one thing.” Before he revealed it, Sukuna paused as Yuuji started to cry again. He held him closer. 

“What is it?! Spit it out!” Not appreciating the silence, Ryomen snapped at the other.

“I’m getting to it, asshole.” Sukuna snapped back. He sighed deeply before continuing. “His soul is being tampered with. There are only three who are capable of that: myself, Kenjaku, and Mahito. The last is a curse that I said won’t be born until 2018, so he is obviously not the culprit. I’d never hurt the brat like that, so I’m out. Kenjaku must be-”

“Didn’t you say that the guardians could detect something like that? They have pieces of Yuuji’s soul to specifically ensure that this couldn’t happen. Are you trying to tell me that Kenjaku magically figured out a way to bypass that?” He did not bother to try to mask the irritation in his voice. Familiar anger began to boil within his veins. Sukuna was not telling him everything. “It can’t be an outside force.”

“Kenjaku has experimented on souls before, so it is possible-”

“Don’t bullshit me, Sukuna! The guardians would have been alerted no matter what! That’s what they’re here for! It’s impossible for them to fail their purpose!”

“I am telling the truth! Yuuji’s soul is being messed with! Why the fuck would I lie about something like that! Damage to the soul is very serious, Ryomen!”

“I know that!”

“Then why are you arguing with me about who is hurting him?”

“Because you’re lying! It’s impossible for the guardians to not feel a single thing if Kenjaku was manipulating Yuuji’s soul! You’re hiding something from me! You always do! Just tell me what it is or else I swear I will kill you where you stand!”

“How dare you accuse me of-”

“There’s something within him, isn’t there?”

Dead. Silence. 

“I-”

“You know exactly what it is, don’t you.” He did not need to ask anymore, it was a fact. Ryomen could recognize the guilt and conflict within Sukuna’s eyes. It was a look the curse got every time Yuuji had nightmares or did something no normal child should do. “Tell me.”

Sukuna refused to answer.

“TELL ME THIS INSTANT, SUKUNA!”

At the shouting, Yuuji’s cries grew into wails. Ryomen quieted immediately, but he looked at Sukuna with a message in his eyes. This isn’t over. The two tried their best to comfort Yuuji as the bleeding restarted. While Sukuna cleaned him, Ryomen smoothed his fingers through his son’s hair. Like always, they stopped their fighting to care for Yuuji. It was tense, and Ryomen was about to snatch Yuuji into his arms to take him to his own room when the door opened.

The four sorcerers had heard the commotion. 

That’s right. They are here for four days to complete the final exam. It’s Suguru’s test day. Great. Just one more thing to deal with. 

-

THE STRONGEST FAM 😎🙊🐺🌸💅🧸

gumibear: can we skip school if you guys are on vacation?

ShadowSister: Megumi no

gumibear: stfu tsumiki

ShadowSister: Fine then

ShadowSister: Guess us girls will enjoy boba and sushi for lunch and not you

gumibear: wait 

ShadowSister: Too late! Meanies don’t get free boba

Lights.Camera.Action: lmao sucks to be u megs!

gumibear: can i retract my statement

ShadowSister: No <3

mimi&co: Didn’t Gojo-san and Getou-san say that they were on a mission?

gumibear: yeah but they’re still away for the next 3 days

Lights.Camera.Action: hm that’s fair

Lights.Camera.Action: 3 days with no school does sound pretty great

ShadowSister: Nanako no

Lights.Camera.Action: nanako yes

gumibear: one more for skipping

ShadowSister: Absolutely not.

ShadowSister: They’re working on this mission. Not relaxing. We should keep working ourselves.

ShadowSister: And you guys need to practice your techniques 

ShadowSister: Megumi, I know that you’re so close to taming Nue

ShadowSister: Nanako, weren’t you so excited to use the new camera Getou bought you?

ShadowSister: As for Mimiko

ShadowSister: You’re doing amazing!! ฅʕ•ᴥ•ʔฅ

mimi&co: ฅʕ•ᴥ•ʔฅ

Lights.Camera.Action: okay no skipping

gumibear: i think u have a curse technique 

gumibear: ‘curse speech of being a good samaritan’

ShadowSister: Or just common sense 

ShadowSister: Now quit texting and start getting ready for school

gumibear: tsk

ShadowSister: I’ll re-invite you to boba

gumibear: deal

A soft chuckle left Suguru’s lips as he read the group chat Satoru had made for themselves and the kids. He could always count on Tsumiki to prevent their younger ones from being irresponsible. She was a kind and respectful girl who kept her siblings in check. Especially her brother. Megumi was quite the menace despite what his calm demeanor would have you believe. The boy knew about the ‘mission’ they were on, and he still wanted to skip school. Ryomen had been pushed quite a lot in allowing Suguru, Satoru, Nanami, Shoko, and Megumi to know about the shrine and Yuuji’s existence. Having anyone else, even if it was Megumi’s sisters, aware of his home was too much for Ryomen. Nanako, Mimiko, and Tsumiki only knew Yuuji as the boy that Megumi tutors, nothing more. It did not feel, for lack of a better term, good to lie to his family, but Suguru did not have a choice. Megumi likely felt the same. While he was moody like any other preteen, he cared deeply for his sisters. Having to keep such secrets was straining. At least, it was for an important reason. 

Even so, Suguru hoped that Ryomen would have enough trust in him to tell his daughters after today. 

It was his turn to be tested, and Suguru knew that his ‘final exam’ would be much different than the others. He would not be facing any of the cursed souls like Nanami had, but Ryomen himself. The man had kept to his promise in training Suguru in the ways of martial arts and cursed energy. Ryomen was brutal with his teachings. Suguru had assumed that Ryomen’s teaching style would be far more nurturing based on how gentle he was with Yuuji. Oh, how wrong he was. The curse manipulator quickly learned that the softness Ryomen showed to Yuuji was exclusive to the boy and the boy alone. Whenever Yuuji was not the focus, Ryomen would become more temperamental and violent than Sukuna. 

Seeing the stark difference between Ryomen with Yuuji and Ryomen with everyone else made Suguru realize something. 

The King of Death. 

It was not just Sukuna’s title. 

It was also Ryomen’s.

When Suguru had told this to his friends, none of them were surprised. Ryomen’s tendency to be a mother hen vanished and was replaced with something far more callous the moment Yuuji was out of the room. The resentment that would appear in the pink-haired man’s expression was familiar to Suguru. He recognized such disgust because it was the same look Suguru would get when looking at non-sorcerers. Over the years, Suguru’s hatred for non-sorcerers had ebbed. Slightly. While he no longer wanted to kill all non-sorcerers, it did not mean that he let go of his old beliefs about protecting them. Tsumiki was the only exception. He would do anything for her, but all other non-sorcerers could rot for all he cared. The rest were monkeys. They would always be monkeys. The only difference now was that Suguru could see a non-sorcerer as a valuable person if they were good enough. Tsumiki was more than good enough to shed any semblance of ‘monkey’ from herself. Besides her, Suguru had not met any other monkey that could escape said title. 

His disgust for monkeys had been the focus of many training sessions with Ryomen. As it turned out, Ryomen held his own hatred for humanity. The difference was that the fire of Suguru’s hatred could be quelled by Satoru and his friends while Ryomen’s hatred had become an unstoppable inferno. Additionally, Ryomen only had Sukuna to talk to for hundreds of years. In terms of ethics or morals, Sukuna was not any better than Ryomen.  

At times, Suguru could not help but wonder what would have happened if he hadn’t had Satoru to bring him to the light. Would he have gone through with his plan to kill all non-sorcerers? Would he have been shunned from jujutsu society and labeled a curse user? Would Satoru have been sent to stop him if Suguru defected? Such questions haunted Suguru’s mind during sleepless nights. However, he would stop himself as he remembered the life he gained now. A life he would not have had if he chose to leave the day Satoru and Nanami called him for help. He was happy now. He had three daughters and a son. He had a boyfriend who was the love of his life. Yes, he had lost his goal to kill all monkeys, but he had gained so much more. Something so much better-

“If you tell me that Riko is a monkey who deserves to die, and you mean it whole-heartedly, then I will join you and help eradicate all non-sorcerers. I’ll even make a binding vow that will ensure my loyalty if you have doubts. Just tell me you hate Riko, and I’ll go with you to make your plans become a reality.”

Yet there were times where Suguru felt…unsatisfied. 

He kept feeling like he had failed in some way. Every time he was assigned a curse to exorcize, the plans he had thrown out came back with a vengeance. Haunting him. Tempting him. Wanting him to return to his initial goals. Reminding him that there would be no more curses if there were no more monkeys. Promising him a utopia to live in once all the non-sorcerers had been killed. 

“What makes you think a society of sorcerers would be better?!”

“If non-sorcerers are monkeys, then I’m a fucking monster!”

“WHAT DOES THAT MAKE THEN, HUH?!”

“DO YOU KNOW HOW BADLY I WANT TO BE HUMAN?! I DON’T WANT TO BE SOME FUCKING WEAPON!”

“I NEVER ASKED TO BE A SORCERER, AND NON-SORCERERS DON’T CHOOSE TO SPAWN CURSES!”

“I’LL NEVER BE A HUMAN! NO MATTER HOW HARD I TRY!”

“I’m a freak of nature. So…How can you hate non-sorcerers so much if I’m worse?”

No matter how many times his dark thoughts came back, there was always someone there to prove each belief wrong. Suguru held onto Satoru tightly from where they rested on the couch. His one and only. He would be that someone, time and time again, to remind Suguru about the good that’s worth protecting.

The good that Ryomen kept making him forget.

“Monkeys? You think non-sorcerers are monkeys? That’s an insult to every monkey on this planet.”

“Never forget that hatred. Use it. Control it. Make it the fuel that strengthens each strike.”

“Humans are selfish creatures. They only work in their own self interest. They are idiotic, cowardly, and cruel. The moment you forget that is the same moment that everything you’ve ever loved will be ripped away from you.” 

“Only a creature as powerless as a human would give into fear that would make them beat a child at any opportunity. And only because that child is different from the rest.”

“My son did not die of illness. He died because the humans of my village saw him as the spawn of a demon.”

“Non-sorcerers are not monkeys, child. They’re much, much less.”

“They’re maggots.”

A sudden shriek interrupted Suguru’s increasingly morose thoughts. Satoru ripped himself out of his partner’s arms while Shoko and Nanami shot up from their places on the wide couch. The sound was coming from down the hall where they all knew Yuuji rested. Without hesitation, the group ran to the child’s room to see what had happened. It was not a sound the boy had made, it was too animalistic to be human. 

Infinite was the only one who could make such a sound.

He shared a look with Satoru. “Do you sense anything different?”

“Yes and no. There aren't any new signatures that I can detect. But I think Nanami needs to be in the front.” Satoru’s fist clenched at his sides. The lighter and darker blues within his eyes clashed against each other like warring seas. It was something Suguru had yet to grow accustomed to, the lack of clarity and addition of darkness. When Satoru locked his gaze onto Suguru, the dark blue had seemingly won the battle as there was only a sliver of light blue left. “Stay in the back, Suguru. Yuuji…Yuuji-kun can’t see you or else his nightmare will get worse.”

“Why?” Suguru whispered. The four were now outside Yuuji’s door, able to hear the muffled voices of Ryomen and Sukuna arguing. Unease churned in his stomach. 

“...I just know.” The reply held none of Satoru’s typical humor. 

Nanami frowned at the vague answer, but he still moved to the front like the elder had asked. The day had barely started and Suguru felt like going back to bed already. He did not want to think about why Infinite had screeched, nor why Yuuji could not see him. Was Yuuji scared of him? Suguru had never seen any fear whenever the boy interacted with him. In fact, Yuuji always welcomed Suguru with hugs and giggles. The child even bought Suguru candies because he wanted to make the ‘yucky curse taste’ go away. It was a kind gift that did help Suguru be free of the taste of shit and vomit after he ingested a curse. Did Yuuji do that for him because he was scared? The thought made Suguru sick, but he knew that Satoru’s judgment was not to be doubted. 

Once Nanami opened the door, Suguru knew that Satoru had been right. 

Yuuji was sobbing into Sukuna’s arms as the curse cleaned the boy of the blood on his face. All of his guardians stayed close to offer as much comfort as they could to the poor child. However, his cries only grew louder. Ryomen was carding his fingers through his son's head as he tried to reassure him, to no avail. 

Then Yuuji’s eyes opened, instantly looking at Nanami. Chubby arms reached out to the blonde and the child let out a heartbroken wail. “N-NANAMIN!”

Once Sukuna released Yuuji, the boy sprinted over to Nanamin, burning his head into his legs. His arms were reaching towards Nanami insistently. The man picked him up without hesitation despite the tears and snot. Silence encompassed the room as, slowly but surely, Nanami calmed Yuuji down. It was the first time that the sorcerers had witnessed Yuuji be so upset. While Ryomen had mentioned the child’s tendency to have nightmares, they never thought that they could be this intense. In addition, Yuuji had cried for Nanami with a desperation that disturbed Suguru. He had heard the same desperation in his own voice after Toji told him that he had killed Gojo Satoru. The desperation that only appeared when you could no longer see someone because they were dead. 

He was not the only one who had the same thought. Ryomen was boring a hole into Suguru. The temperature of the room began to rise as Ryomen stood up and walked to the curse manipulator. 

Ryomen placed a hand on Suguru’s shoulder. “We’re going.”

And Suguru did nothing to stop him.

Neither spoke, too overwhelmed with what they had just witnessed to speak. They made their way through the hall until Ryomen’s training dojo was in sight. He did not need to say anything for Suguru to change out of his pajamas with the spare change of clothes he kept. The moment he finished changing, the heat in the room skyrocketed. Ryomen’s body was trembling in barely contained fury. 

“Your test starts now.” Ryomen said, tone free of all emotions. 

“What must I do to pass?”

“Don’t think about that. Don’t think about anything.”

Something happened. Something must have happened for Ryomen to act so rashly. He had heard Sukuna and Ryomen arguing before they entered, but Suguru could not hear what it was about. Even so, the long-haired man breathed deeply. He cleared his mind as ordered. Clearing his mind of the kids, of Satoru’s ominous words, of Yuuji’s terrified cires, of the guilt threatening to swallow Suguru whole. Everything. “Alright.”

“Good. Now,” he paused as vibrant, orange flames encompassed Ryomen’s fists, “take a stance.” 

Suguru allowed the dark shadow of his own cursed energy to cover his entire arms. It was a technique that Ryomen had invented himself. One fueled by hatred. Despite himself, Suguru smiled. “I’m ready when you are, Sensei.”

An equally viscous smile split across Ryomen’s face. “Then let’s begin. Allow yourself to forget the morals that have been ingrained into your mind. There is no need for understanding or compassion in this room. It’s a simple place to be your worst self. A self free of all limitations.” The man stopped to gaze knowingly at Suguru. His numb tone was replaced with the same viciousness of the fire he wielded. “What will you imagine as you strike me, boy? I know I am imagining maggots.”

“Monkeys.”

“Hm. You always do.”

“And I always will.”

-Four Years Ago-

“Why haven’t I heard of this technique before?” Suguru’s voice both held awe and skepticism. His hands, which were on his lap, twitched with the intense desire to note down every word Ryomen was saying. However, the elder had told him that he was not allowed to record any of his teachings. It was frustrating, but Suguru knew better than to refuse the paranoid sorcerer. 

Pride shimmered in Ryomen’s eyes as he answered. “Because it is one I created.”

Questions flooded into the black-haired man’s mind. Creating a technique was something that was considered impossible amongst jujutsu sorcerers. A sorcerer was born with their technique, and there was no alternative. It was this fact that made inheriting techniques so important that clans would refuse to intermingle with one another to keep their bloodline ‘pure’. Those with powerful techniques were seen as superior and acted as such, leading to the development of the Big Three Families: the Kamo Clan, the Zenin Clan, and the Gojo Clan. However, it did make sense that such a terrible hierarchy would encourage others to find ways to improve their own techniques or become stronger. It led to the creation of Simple Domain and cursed weapons. Using new ways to better one’s technique was common, but creating an entirely new technique with no pre-existing foundations was not. Though, it was possible that Ryomen had used something to form the technique. What that was…Suguru almost did not want to know.

In the privacy of Ryomen’s personal dojo, the elder appeared the most relaxed Suguru had ever seen him. It left Suguru feeling uneasy. Ryomen was more calm, yes, but there was a rage simmering beneath the surface that the man was seconds from unleashing. The room suddenly heated up as Ryomen gazed at him with amusement. 

“I can see a million questions flying around in that head of yours.” His tone was teasing, yet his smile was sharp. With a sigh, Ryomen stood up and approached a wall that had displays of various weapons, mostly daggers. He approached the largest knife at the center of the wall and pulled as if it was a lever. A click sounded, and Suguru gasped at the sight. What was once a solid wall had now split in half to reveal a hidden treasure that made bile rise in his throat. It could only be considered treasure in someone’s deepest nightmares. Behind the wall was not a prized blade or jewels or anything remotely valuable. Horrific was the only word to describe what was behind the wall. 

Bones.

Hundreds of them.

Skulls, femurs, phalanges, jaws, and so much more.

And they were human.

Every single one was human.

“What…What is this?” Suguru whispered shakily. 

There was no emotion in Ryomen’s voice. “It’s the remains of all who had tried to kill me. Sorcerers and non-sorcerers alike. Don’t fret, there’s no children in there. Even I would not stoop that low.” 

“That doesn’t make any of this any better! Why did you-”

“Keep their bones?” Ryomen interrupted with a scowl. He quickly schooled his expression before picking up a random skull. After rotating it in his hands for a few moments, the elder turned to look at Suguru. “Tell me, boy, what do you think cursed energy is?”

While Suguru did not want to answer, his curiosity pushed him to see where the conversation would lead. “It is a powerful energy source that stems from intense negative emotions and beliefs. Sorcerers are able to wield it in certain ways while none-sorcerers generate the cursed energy. Curses are born when there is an abundance of cursed energy.” The answer came easily as it was one of the first things he was taught when he first discovered his technique. 

A hum of approval came from the pink-haired man. “Everything you said was technically correct, but there is much you have yet to learn. Cursed energy is not just spawned of negativity, it is a part of nature. It belongs in this world as much as light or sound energy. The only difference is that it was not allowed to grow any stronger due to Tengen’s damn barriers.” His grip on the skull grew tight, making Suguru fear that it would shatter under the pressure. Ryomen then released his hold to place the skull onto the floor where they had once been sitting. The sorcerer sat down with an expectant look that Suguru reluctantly gave into. Now sat, Ryomen pressed a finger on the top of the skull. “Light, sound, heat, wind, electrical, chemical, and countless more are forms of energy we are familiar with. Cursed energy is meant to be an energy formed from death. Over the years, it has been changed to negative emotions by the elders. They did not want the knowledge being spread as it would have led to massacres by those who wished for power…”

Which is what you had done. Suguru kept the thought to himself, knowing that he was in a tense situation that could grow worse if he antagonized Ryomen. An image formed in his head. The painting of the ‘Scorned’ sat atop a throne of bones while Sukuna loomed over him. All this time, he had thought that the image was only showcasing a myth, that it was exaggerating certain aspects of Ryomen’s history to appear more threatening. It was never an exaggeration, and Suguru suddenly felt quite claustrophobic. He needed to leave, warn the others or prepare to attack, but his limbs refused to move. The curse manipulator did the only thing he could do: analyze and learn. “How exactly does cursed energy come from death?”

“Interested, aren’t you? I’m relieved I do not need to waste any more time to convince you of the truth. Death is a part of life, a part of nature, a part of this world. You cannot have life without death. Energy comes from many living things, and the same is reflected to those that have passed on. Our bodies spend constant energy to keep us going. When we die, the energy must go somewhere, so it exits the body as cursed energy. The belief of negative emotions being its source stems from the fact that many people die with regrets, anger, or fear. Have you ever wondered why you feel exhausted after an emotional outbursts? Many animals cannot cry as it can dehydrate them, yet humans do it all the time. Our brains only want to survive, so it would not make sense to waste resources like water due to emotional pain. Unless our emotions are seen as equally important as keeping our hearts beating. Energy is put into our grief like it is put into making your legs move. Combine the energy of our final feelings as we die and the leftover energy our body has left and cursed energy is formed.”

“Then why do schools produce cursed energy if they are not surrounded by death?”

“Have you ever been in class and silently wished for death? Have you ever said you will kill yourself if you fail an upcoming test? Have you ever wanted to die instead of doing a tedious project or presenting in front of the classroom?” Even though Suguru was silent, Ryomen had already gotten his answer. He sighed again, placing his hands in his lap. “When you are young, death is not seen as something terrifying. It’s being hurt that scares a child as pain is far easier to grasp than the concept of dying. The sentiments of death draw in nearby cursed energy like a magnet. Everything we do costs energy, even thinking. That small piece of energy acts like a lighthouse used for boats. Unlike other types of energy, cursed energy can act on impulses. Similar to a brainless jellyfish. It just knows what it needs to do.”

“What about other negative emotions unrelated to death?”

“Well, death is mainly seen as something negative. Like I said before, a living being often dies with regrets or shame. Animals will usually feel fear before death. Those witnessing a loved one die would not be jumping for joy, no?”

“So those emotions are what attract cursed energy, but they will not create cursed energy unless they die?”

“Exactly. Cursed energy is only released in death, but the cursed energy that already exists tends to travel towards places associated with the negative emotions death brings.” 

“...And the bones?”

Ryomen went quiet, clearly thinking hard on how to phrase his next words. He could see the poorly hidden disgust and fear within Suguru’s eyes. However, the man was not going to stop now that he had started. This was important, and Suguru was the one who needed to learn this technique the most. After learning of the boy’s past, Ryomen knew that Suguru was the only person who he could convince to see reason. Suguru had hate in his heart. It was obvious from the moment Ryomen had met him. It was something they had in common. The boy had potential, immense potential, but he was being held back by morality. Specifically, the morality his friends instilled in him. No matter. 

Suguru would succumb to his hatred at some point, it was inevitable. 

As Ryomen picked up the skull again, he continued. “Cursed energy lingers, especially in the remains of the dead. Even in a skull as old as this, there are traces of it to use. Cursed Extraction is the technique I created to absorb the energy from the dead and use it to strengthen my own innate technique. As long as one can wield cursed energy, they can extract it.” To emphasize his point, the skull was enveloped in a bright blue flame, the most common color of cursed energy. He summoned an orange flame in his unoccupied hand. Slowly, the blue flame grew smaller as the orange flame grew larger. The cursed energy was being absorbed. “It improves your techniques, opens doors that would have stayed closed, and makes you the most powerful person in any room.” The blue flame then went out. Immediately, golden flames erupted from Ryomen’s palm. The heat was nearly unbearable as the fire twisted itself into a whirlpool of flames with them in the center. “Cursed Technique Extension is only possible after Cursed Extraction, and you have the highest likelihood of mastering it. You only have to listen.” 

The fire went out, yet Suguru continued to sweat bullets. Ryomen had wordlessly shown him how easily he could kill him with the Extraction technique. It was both a threat to his life and a promise of the power Suguru could wield. All he had to do was take from the dead. 

He…wasn’t as put off about it as he thought. 

Nanami, Shoko, and Satoru would have refused to hear another word after seeing the bones, but Suguru was never like them. They were good people, and he had finally accepted that he was not. He likely never was. Suguru pushed away the mental voices of his friends telling him to leave or not accept Ryomen’s offer to teach him. If they found out, then they would hate him. However, Suguru would do anything to protect them…and the temptation was too strong to ignore. This was Suguru’s chance to grow stronger. “Fine. Show me how.”

A grin flashed across Ryomen’s face. “Good. Let’s begin, shall we?”

Suguru had not hated himself this much in years. “Of course.”

“Hm. The first step I would like you to do is summon a curse, it does not matter what grade it is. Anything will do.”

The black haired man obeyed and manifested a Fly Head, he had hoards of them so parting with one would do no harm. It shrieked and hissed, swinging its bulbous head around to observe its surroundings. Even so, it stayed by Suguru’s side like a dutiful soldier. They were the weakest curses around, but their swarms had proven useful on many occasions. No matter how much he wanted to, Suguru could never forget the horror he had felt when Toji described each inch of his plan to kill Satoru while they fought in Tengen’s Corridors. As Toji had no cursed energy of his own due to a Heavenly Restriction, the assassin had summoned a swarm of Fly Heads to overwhelm Satoru’s already strained Six Eyes. He hid himself and his cursed weapon amongst the flies in order to attack Satoru from behind. Stabbing him again and again and again. Years had passed since then, and Satoru would still wake up screaming about trying to find Toji. Underneath his clothes and hair, Satoru was covered in the scars of Toji’s attack: the multiple stab wounds on his right thigh, the long slice from his throat to his stomach, and the strike through his head. If Satoru had learned how to use reverse cursed technique before receiving those injuries, then there would have been no scars. However, Satoru’s first time using reverse curse technique was when he was on the brink of death. Suguru had scars of his own, a large ‘X’ across his chest, but he had wanted them to scar on purpose. He only allowed Shoko to stop the bleeding with her healing, nothing more. After Riko and Satoru…Suguru had wanted to hurt as a reminder of what had happened, how he had failed to stop that monkey from killing them. 

So, no, Suguru would never underestimate Fly Heads. Never again. 

Rage made all of his doubts disappear. Every reminder of Toji brought back the vengeful teenager he used to be. For now, he would let that part of himself have the death he desired. As if sensing his murderous thoughts, the Fly Head he’d summoned quivered in fear. He ignored the curse with ease. “What comes next?”

“Kill it and absorb the cursed energy it was made of. Not in your usual way, mind you. With my help, you will never need to consume a vile cursed spirit ever again.” The glint in Ryomen’s eyes was protective. It was the same way he would look at Yuuji and, on a few occasions, Satoru. It was very confusing for Suguru. For one, he was surrounded by the skeletal remains of humans. On the other hand, it felt incredible to have someone want to help him. When Ryomen pointed at the Fly Head, the tips of his fingers were glowing a faint orange. “The corpses of sorcerers provide the most cursed energy, but you have an army of curses at your disposal. The quantity makes up for it. Humans provide cursed energy as well, along with all living things, but that is too advanced for where you are now.”

“How do I go about absorbing it?”

“Once you kill the curse, you will only have seconds to absorb its energy before it disappears. In order to make every drop of cursed energy come to you, you must become a lighthouse of death and negativity. Put yourself in the darkest place in your mind. Remember, death brings feelings of not just sadness or regret, but hatred, anger, resentment, or wrath. I suggest you meditate and reflect on the times you have been closest to death. Take as long as you need to get there. When you do, kill the Fly Head and extract its energy.” There was a pause. “Be careful. A reason that this technique is so abhorred is that many died trying to do this. In their attempt to become one with death, they succumbed to it. Remember your sense of self. If you don’t, your soul could be lost and your life with it.”

While Ryomen’s words were not comforting, Suguru appreciated that they were honest. There was no use sugarcoating it. Suguru was agreeing to perform a technique so vile that it had been outlawed and left to be forgotten. He would be desecrating the skeletons of the people Ryomen had killed. Were they all old kills or were they new? Both? How many people had died to provide extra power to Ryomen? Sorcerers encountered death on a daily basis, but it was rarely in the form of murder. They did not hurt one of their own. And here Suguru was learning how to use their bodies for his  own advantage…

Satoru, Shoko, and Nanami could never know. 

With that, Suguru closed his eyes and thought of all the times he had encountered death.

When he was eight-years-old one of his tutors was teaching him about the history of Jujutsu Tech. The man was prattling on about the architects who built some special building that Suguru cared nothing about. His tutor was old, looking once second from passing away. He was all wrinkles and shaky hands. Even so, he was very strict when he needed to be. Suguru’s hands still stung after the lashing he had received yesterday from his tutor’s wooden ruler. Since he was not paying attention, Suguru knew he would be hit eventually. Deciding to start daydreaming, Suguru glanced at a window that showed a bright sky he missed. He had intended on zoning out for the rest of the lecture, but Suguru was broken out of his daydreams when he heard a thud. It was his tutor. Collapsed on the floor. Not moving. Not breathing. Instead of screaming in terror, Suguru simply looked at the body. Completely frozen. It was his mother, who came to check in, who sprang into action and called an ambulance. However, the tutor was already dead. The cause was a heart attack. His parents cried at the tutor’s funeral, but Suguru never did. 

The same thing happened whenever a family member or family friend died. Suguru would simply become a statue that did not speak or cry. He only moved when one of his parents came to carry him away. 

During a particularly harsh winter, Suguru caught an illness that made him hospitalized for three months. It was a form of pneumonia that Suguru could no longer remember the specifics of. All he knew was that it felt like he could not breathe for weeks. There was one day in the hospital where Suguru was alone for once. He had been sitting in bed, struggling to focus on reading a book, when his chest seized. A violent coughing fit overwhelmed his weak body. It felt like glass was in his lungs. At the time, Suguru had been too panicked to press the button that would have alerted the nurses. No matter how hard he tried, he could not get a single breath in. Both of his nostrils were clogged and breathing through his mouth was impossible due to his uncontrollable coughing. Terror gripped him as black spots littered his vision. He was running out of air and fast. Suguru desperately tried to clear his nose, but it did not work. When his oxygen ran out, Suguru remembered the pain disappearing into tranquility. Everything was blurry, yet Suguru felt the most at ease he had ever felt. However, a nurse soon came rushing in and helped him regain consciousness. Suguru still remembered how disappointed he had been that he had been dragged out of his peace. 

Once he became a sorcerer, killing curses never bothered him. At that point in his life, Suguru grew numb to risking his life every day. He had grown used to it after his tutors dragged him to the worst places to absorb curses with no help. Dying to protect people from curses was something noble in Suguru’s eyes. He used to look at his fallen comrades and feel nothing but respect for their efforts. Admiration for their dedication. He used to be so blind…

Then Riko died in front of him. It was not like the time where his old tutor succumbed to a heart attack. Dying from a heart attack was natural. In addition, the man had already lived a full life. Riko hadn’t. She was ripped away from it by a bullet to her brain. For a split second, Suguru had frozen again. What broke him out was when he turned to see the smug expression of the killer’s face. Toji. He felt no remorse over what he had done. Killing a child meant nothing to him. Toji had bragged about killing Satoru as well. Like he was proud of himself. An indescribable rage filled Suguru. Instead of the typical heat one associated with rage, Suguru had only felt cold. The same tranquility he had felt when he was about to suffocate returned to him. It calmed his mind and sharpened his focus. The seed of hatred that had always been there within Suguru had sprouted to its fullest extent as he battled Toji. He wanted that man to die. There was not a single thought of sparing him or making him see the ‘wrongs’ in his ways. No. Suguru did not want to help Toji. Suguru wanted, no, needed for him to suffer. Despite giving the fight of his life, Toji escaped with the smug smile that had never left his face. 

“You should thank your parents. But the blessed like you still lost to me, a monkey that can’t even use Jujutsu. If you want to live longer, remember this.” 

Death was freeing. 

There were many times throughout Suguru’s life where he thought he would be better off dead, wanting that peace he had briefly touched when he was young. The work of a sorcerer was not for the faint of heart. Every day, you were forced to fight horrific monsters or see your comrades being killed by said monster. Sorcerers would never hear a ‘thank you’ as they needed to work behind closed doors. They would have to deal with disrespect from the people they were trying to help. No one could ever be as bad as the higher-ups, though. Every one of them saw a sorcerer as a tool to be used, nothing more. It did not matter if the sorcerer had family, friends, or children. The elders would assign them on mission after mission until they died. It was always the lives of non-sorcerers above their own. 

Haibara had been just another number on the list of casualties for Jujutsu Society. The boy had been so bright and kind. He would have succeeded in any profession he put his mind to, but he chose to be a jujutsu sorcerer. The only job where death was a guarantee. If he had never been a sorcerer, Haibara would have still been alive, likely spreading his joy to others in need. Instead, he was killed brutally due to the incompetence of the elders. It showed just who the elders prioritized: themselves. None of them cared to learn the names of the hundreds who died for their cause. All the elders were more than content to sit upon their thrones behind the doors that prevented anyone from entering. They never showed their faces, which only further proved how little they cared. Special-grade sorcerers were the only ones that the higher-ups paid attention to due to the sole fact that special-grades could threaten their control. 

They didn’t care about the tears Nanami shed when his best friend died. They didn’t care about the innocence lost when they forced a child to become a sorcerer. They didn’t care about the blood spilled in the fight against curses. They didn’t care about how much their sorcerers screamed at night, how much pain their sorcerers endured, how terrified their sorcerers were each day on the field, how overworked their assistant directors are, how their sorcerers were dying due to their mistakes, and how their best sorcerers were treated lower than dirt. 

All they wanted was for their perfect soldiers to do their job without complaint. 

If one pawn fell, then another would be there to replace it. 

Did they ever feel guilt about the lives they had doomed? 

Were they haunted by the blood spilled under their orders?

The most likely answer was no.

For Suguru, he could not have a day where he did not think about the deaths of those he once cherished. When he showered, there were times where the water felt like blood dripping down his back, staining his skin, getting into his hair. The blood was from many places: the gaping hole in Riko’s forehead, the shredded remains of Haibara’s abdomen, and the pool of blood underneath Satoru’s limp body. Once the water grew cold, Suguru was reminded of the lack of warmth when he held Riko and Haibara’s hands. Cold as death. More than anything, what haunted Suguru the most was the plan he never executed. 

He knew how awful his plan was. It was a massacre of all non-sorcerers, children included. But he was stopped before he even started. His children and Satoru mattered more to him, yet there were days where the hatred grew too strong to ignore. He would remember the deaths of his classmates and friends. The worst part was that there was a way to prevent people like Haibara from never being killed again. Knowing how to stop something was always a valuable asset. Not being allowed to stop something despite knowing how was equivalent to torture. 

Monkeys dying meant sorcerers surviving.

Suguru wanted many people to die, but he could do nothing about it. 

Death. It was cold yet inviting. Freeing yet lonely. Peaceful yet destructive. 

How he wished to see Toji die again…How he wished to slaughter each person applauding for Riko’s death. 

He hated them.

He didn’t even know who ‘them’ was.

But he hated them all the same.

One day, he would get his chance to kill them. One day, he, Satoru, Shoko, and Nanami would be free of Jujutsu Society forever. 

Their pain would end. 

He just needed to grow strong enough. 

The Fly Head buzzed in fright. 

Suguru killed it in seconds. 

“Extract the cursed energy.” Ryomen said calmly. 

Now that he had returned to the present, Suguru noticed an emptiness within his chest. It was impossible to ignore, feeling like it was growing wider and wider. The void wanted to be filled, so he gave into the desire. 

It burned. 

“Keep going. Do not stop under any circumstances!”

It felt like his veins were being flooded with fire. Suguru was burning from the inside out, yet his body began to shiver as if he was out in a blizzard. The tips of his fingers throbbed as if they had touched a stove top. Within him, he could feel the curses within him writhe and shriek from the pain Suguru was going through. Thousands of screams echoed for release, but Suguru did not listen. He could feel the void in his chest filling and the pain lessening. 

“You’re almost done.” 

His teeth creaked from how hard his jaw was clenching. Fortunately, the fire and agony disappeared not long after. When he opened eyes he had not realized he’d closed, Suguru noticed the dark shadow covering his arms. If he gazed closely, he could see movements rippling beneath the darkness, his arsenal of curses were ready for when he needed them. He mentally called upon a curse, one that looked like a skeletal bear covered in ice, and recoiled in surprise when both of his arms were replaced with ice covered bones and claws. “Swapping limbs with my own curses…I’ve never thought of doing that.” 

“That was because you were unable to. I take it, you see the value of my technique?” 

“I do.” Suguru could not keep his gaze off of his arms. He felt…powerful, and it only cost one Fly Head! None of his friends would think twice about killing a curse. “Perhaps you can introduce the others to this technique using one of my curses as the cursed energy source.”

Ryomen went silent as he thought it over. Having stronger protection for Yuuji was never something to deny. It was an easy decision to make. “Alright, we’ll use your curses. I hope I do not need to tell you to not tell them anything about the other source, right?”

“Of course not. No one will know.” 

“Let’s hope it stays that way.”

-Present Day-

Suguru grunted as he was thrown onto the hard ground. Dirt flew everywhere, getting into his eyes and mouth. They had moved Suguru’s final test to an abandoned field where no one would see or hear them. It was the umpteenth time that he had been launched several feet, but he recovered quickly. 

As he got up, Ryomen spoke up. “Suguru, I need you to answer this question honestly.”

He wiped his scratched hands on his pants, an uneasy feeling already pooling in his gut. “What is it?”

“When does somebody deserve to die?”

Oh. It was a question Suguru had not expected. His eyes widened in shock, but he kept his composure. The answer was a complicated one. It was something Suguru had wondered about constantly. He would spend hours debating himself on the ethics or morality of execution. Additionally, Yaga had given them lessons on how to deal with curse users. Killing was part of a sorcerer’s job. Over the years, Suguru realized that sorcerer’s did kill each other. He had been a fool to believe otherwise. They killed inhuman curses and they often killed one of their own. There were nights where he raged at jujutsu sorcery as a whole, hating them almost as much as he hated monkeys. Unlike most sorcerers, Suguru was a special grade. The power difference between him and a first-grade sorcerer could not be overlooked. Of course, no one had more power than Satoru as he was in a league of his own. No matter how much Satoru insisted on them being the same. Nevertheless, Suguru knew he was stronger than a majority of sorcerers. In their society, strength meant everything, and Suguru could kill hundreds of people without much difficulty. 

But how he killed someone wasn’t the question. It was when. When does somebody’s life get revoked? Several answers popped in his head, each one bloodier than the last. “It depends, Sensei. You and I both know that there are people who we want to live just like there are people we wish to kill.”

Ryomen hummed. “That is a clever answer, boy. You enjoy thinking of the specifics in any situation, no matter how insignificant. I can respect the caution, but too many questions can grow tiresome-” He stopped as a single raindrop hit his nose. It seemed like the sky wanted to match the ominous environment he had created. The sprinkle would turn into a downpour soon, so he should stop stalling. “I asked you that question for a reason. I wanted to know if it will take a millennia of mistakes until you believe a person deserves to die. Though, I am aware that you are likely the opposite. You were willing to kill non-sorcerer children for simply existing. I was curious to see where the bar lied and if it had changed…Has it?”

Memories of the intense fight he had with Satoru that day in the forest flooded him. It was that day where Suguru dropped his plan altogether. From then on, Suguru had returned to helping non-sorcerer through killing curses. The only things that had changed were his appearance and attitude. Additionally, his friends and he had many heart to hearts about all that had happened to them. It was those moments of affection, trust, and care that made the hope Suguru lost begin to return. Hope for humanity. Hope for himself. Hope for the future. Suguru knew that his friends were destined for greatness. When he learned of Satoru’s plan to become a teacher, Suguru had agreed to join him on the spot. Satoru, his one and only, wanted things to change, and he knew that killing all the elders wouldn’t solve anything. 

“I want to kill them, Suguru. Especially Gakuganji, don’t even get me started on that useless, old fart. It would be so easy, but I know I shouldn’t. And I won’t. The change won’t last if I kill them. Sure, we’ll probably have a few years of peace, yet I know that there will be replacements as bad as the original elders were.” The ice cream in Satoru’s hand was beginning to melt, causing him to take a moment to eat his dessert properly. His unoccupied hand was in Suguru’s. It had been Satoru’s idea to go out for ice cream after seeing that Suguru was having a particularly hard day. Suguru had already finished his own cone while Satoru’s was on his fourth. He squeezed his hand reassuringly. “If change is done by force, there will be resentment and likely people wanting revenge. I don’t want that, Suguru. If I want to change things, I have to do it right. The best way to do that is focusing on the next generation. I want to teach them how to defend themselves, protect them from the higher-up’s corruption, and still let them have a childhood. I know I’ll probably be a terrible teacher, but I want to try.”

Blue eyes locked onto Suguru’s brown. Ever since he had woken up, painful memories of the past kept tormenting him. However, looking at Satoru always helped in lessening the ache. He processed the other’s words and found himself smiling. No matter how he tried to deny it, Satoru was a sweetheart beneath the layers of arrogance and flippancy. Teaching the future generation was actually…a brilliant idea. One that Suguru had not even considered. Rebuilding their world from the ground up was far better than toppling it all down. Suguru had wanted people to die for his plan while Satoru wanted to help. The difference made guilt simmer in his chest. He still had those moments where he felt like a fraud or a monster. Today was one of those days. 

“Hey, look at me, Ru.”

“Ew. What have I told you about that nickname? It’s awful.” Suguru immediately turned to glare at his partner. 

“But it got your attention, didn’t it?” Satoru winked with his trademark smirk. Any anger that Suguru could have felt disappeared when Satoru kissed his cheek. He was truly wrapped around Satoru’s finger, a total goner…and he didn’t mind one bit. 

Suguru broke eye contact. The raw care in Satoru’s eyes was too much for him to take. “I suppose. While I’ve never imagined you as a teacher, I think you’ll be an excellent one. Perhaps Megumi will be in your class once he’s older.”

“Oh my god, that would be hilarious!” Giggles escaped Satoru’s lips. When he calmed down, his voice became soft. It was rare for Satoru to speak gently. He only did so when he was with Suguru, Shoko, or Nanami and was feeling vulnerable. “You don’t have to…but I know how patient you are with the kids. I see how you care for us and how well you teach them when they’re confused about homework. I can’t do that. I can’t explain things like you do or even sit still long enough to give a lesson. It’s definitely selfish of me to want you to be a teacher too. We can both teach the new generation, and they’ll be the greatest sorcerers in history because we’d be teaching them! Just think about it?”

Becoming a teacher would be a massive change, but Suguru had nothing else going for him. He did want to do more than kill curses all day. And he’d be spending even more time with Satoru, which was always a positive. If Satoru wanted him to be by his side, then Suguru would be there for as long as he wanted him. “Sure, why not? My students will have far better grades than yours.”

“No, they’ll be strong AND smart!”

“Unlike you?”

“Hey!”

“It has changed.” Suguru finally replied. The bar had been raised by his friends, and he knew that they would never allow him to pull it down. 

“Has it?” The look in Ryomen’s eye was analyzing. He walked towards the curse manipulator until they were only a few feet apart. Rain was beginning to soak them both, but neither cared. “You have had no trouble lying to your friends about the truth behind my Extension Technique. I’ve heard you rant about your hatred for monkey’s time and time again. Your capability and willingness to cause violence are all determined by your feelings. Biases. Your killings are personal.”

There was no use denying it because it was true. His hatred for monkeys stemmed from the deep hatred he developed after Toji assassinated Riko and Satoru. Even if it was for a second or less, Satoru had died. He came back, yes, but Suguru could not ignore the fact that Satoru was killed by a monkey. After Haibara’s death, Suguru wanted revenge against the ones who were responsible for curses in the first place: non-sorcerers. It had been personal. It had always been personal. “What point are you trying to make?”

“There were only three terms you had to follow if you wanted to have an alliance with Sukuna and me. One, you cannot tell anyone else about the location of the shrine. Two, you cannot tell anyone about Yuuji’s existence. Three, which is the most vital, you must protect Yuuji with your lives.” Hisses of steam were heard as the rain droplets evaporated against Ryomen’s scalding-hot skin. Ryomen clenched his fists and moved into a fighting stance. “A battle is on the horizon, and I need to know if you will be loyal to us. Are you willing to kill for me? Are you willing to betray others in order to protect Yuuji? If I tell you to destroy a town, will you do it?”

“I-”

Whatever words Suguru was about to say were ripped away from him as Ryomen sent a fist into his gut. It was easy to forget that Ryomen was just as fast as Sukuna. This was the first time they were fighting in an open space, and Suguru was widely unprepared. Like a ragdoll, he was tossed into the ground. His body ached, but he would not be going down. If Ryomen wanted a fight, so be it. 

Cursed Manipulation Extension: Replace. This was Suguru’s test, and tests were meant to show how much you had learned. A protective armor of stone covered his arms. It was originally from a first-grade curse he was tasked to exercise after a cave-in at an abandoned mine. Apparently, it used to be a popular spot for unruly teens to escape to. Their deaths birthed a huge curse made of rocks and the wooden beams that had once supported the mine shaft. He would need the extra protection as he could already feel the rain pouring on him begin to heat up. It would soon reach the temperature of boiling water, and Suguru preferred to avoid getting burned. 

He launched himself forward, keeping his body low. Nanami had almost died in his fight with the cursed souls. Ryomen would be just as merciless. The heated rain was proof that Ryomen wanted to burn Suguru. The pain would distract him and give the older an opening that would be fatal. It was already tedious. Steam billowed in every direction as Ryomen grew hotter and hotter and hotter. As Ryomen’s flames were a manifestation of his cursed energy, it did not have the same properties as a natural fire. Nothing could put it out. His hair, drenched from the rain, made his scalp throb with pain. Blisters were already forming, and the battle had barely started. 

As much as it hurt, he had to focus. Ignore the pain. Keep moving. 

“SHOW ME THAT VIOLENCE, BOY! WHY ELSE WOULD I KEEP YOU AROUND?”

“BECAUSE YOUR SON NEEDS THE PROTECTION!” All he could hear was the loud beating of his own heart, drowning out all other sounds. Suguru shielded his face with his curse’s armor and sweeped his leg across the muddy ground. As Ryomen moved back to dodge it, a gaping  maw appeared out of the dirt. He fell into the hole, eyes wide with shock. It felt like he was falling in an endless abyss. 

Until it disappeared.

The feeling of falling disappeared as soon as it started. 

It gave Suguru the chance he needed. With his armored hand, he swung his first across Ryomen’s jaw. An audible crack came afterwards as Ryomen’s head snapped to the side. Finally, the rain returned to its original temperature. 

“My companions and I have been dedicated to helping your son since the day we met! We have agreed to suffer through your training, risked our reputations by lying to our superiors, and always respected your desire for secrecy! What more do you want?!” It was stupid to anger Ryomen any further. Very stupid. Even so, Suguru continued to yell. A momentary lapse had occurred with Ryomen’s broken jaw. He needed to take advantage of it. “What will it take for you to see that I hate jujutsu sorcery as much as you do?!”

A gasp sound was his response. Suguru thought that Ryomen was about to throw up, but the longer the straining exhales lasted, the less likely it was. Ryomen turned to face him with a river of blood cascading down his mouth. The rough gasps were not from nausea. No. Despite having a broken and dislocated jaw, Ryomen was laughing. It suddenly occurred to Suguru that he had rarely seen Ryomen laugh before. Why the hell is he laughing?! 

Another sickening crack with the addition of a squelch made Suguru shiver. Without any signs of pain, Ryomen reseted his jaw with brute force. When he spoke, his voice was slightly slurred. For the first time, Suguru wondered about Ryomen’s sanity. “Very good. How about we shake things up, hm? I will not stop attacking until you have answered my remaining questions or until you have died.”

“How is this a test?! You’re just using me to distract yourself from what happened in Yuuji’s room!” Shit. Shit. Shit. That was the worst thing to say! Ryomen had centuries of battle experience. Why couldn’t he shut his stupid mouth?!

“Of course, I’m using you.” Ryomen responded with surprisingly no anger. It made Suguru tense even further. When someone with a temper as bad as Ryomen grew calm, the worst was to be expected. “Child, you are far more powerful than you give yourself credit for. You can kill all non-sorcerers, but you haven’t. Why?”

“Is that the first question?”

“It is.” 

Suguru prepared himself for the heat, for the burning, yet nothing came. Instead, it was ice. Each droplet turned into a blade that pierced every inch of Suguru’s body. His clothes protected him from the worst of it, but his entire head had no covering. He dismissed the stone armor to regain his full dexterity. 

He was already shivering. 

Focus. 

Unbothered by the drop in temperature, Ryomen surged forward again. He sent palm strikes against the younger’s back, hits to his stomach and chest, kicks behind his knees and at his hips, and chops all over his body. Throughout it all, Suguru did his best to dodge, ducking and weaving gracefully. It was satisfying when Suguru got a few hits himself. 

And the cold worsened. 

His fingers went numb and made his attacks sloppy. 

“Don’t tell me that you didn't know I could control the cold as I do heat. Just as your partner can use the reversal of his Blue, I can use the reversal of my flames.” 

“Cursed technique r-reversal. Of course, you’d know it.” His trembling was almost violent now. 

“Yes. Reverse cursed technique and cursed technique reversal are two different things. Both are very important.” A long sigh left the pink-haired man. “You have yet to answer my question.” He sent a vicious hit against Suguru’s left side. “Why.”

Disorientated by the cold, Suguru took a few seconds to realize what Ryomen was talking about. When Ryomen moved to strike him again, Suguru managed to grab the other’s wrist, pulling it downwards. “I abandoned my plan. It wasn’t worth continuing once I realized what I’d lose if I committed to it.” He then pushed Ryomen away to create distance. They circled one another, waiting for the right moment to pounce.

“What would you have lost?” Their circling grew slower. 

“My family. Satoru would never look at me again if I killed all non-sorcerers.” His eyes were in an intense staring match with Ryomen. Looking away for even a second could be the difference between life and death. He quietly gathered his cursed energy for an attack he had only managed to pull off once. “Shoko and Nanami as well. They would hate me for the rest of my life…And I have a daughter who is a non-sorcerer. I could never bring myself to hurt her. The utopia intended to create would not be complete without her in it.”

Slowly, the hard edges Ryomen showcased began to soften. “That is an answer I can accept. However, I can’t help but wonder what you would be willing to do if their lives were in danger.” Any gentleness disappeared the moment those words were uttered. 

“Is that a threat.” The curse manipulator demanded with a snarl. He summoned the seam that hid one of his largest curses. Its gnarled claws poked through, wanting to maim and kill. 

With a wave of his hands, Ryomen summoned a ring of fire. The flames rose high enough that there was no way for Suguru to jump over without help. Due to the gray sky above them and the dead field they stood on, the fire was the most colorful and brightest thing around. Each droplet of water reflected the amber hue of the flames. “I would never hurt your children, that I can swear on. What I need you to do, child, is understand why I am pushing you so much. You’ve felt the rage that comes when one of your own is killed.” He dropped his hands to his sides and approached. Whenever he took one step forward, Suguru took another step back. “It consumes you, and you are willing to do whatever it takes to ensure it doesn’t happen again! Or would you leave your children to this cruel world?”

The response slipped out before Suguru could think twice. “Of course, I would!” His foot touched the wall of flames, and he hissed in pain. Suguru stood his ground, continuing to build up the army of curses within him into one mass. Maximum Uzumaki. It burnt through a lot of his stored curses, but it was perfect for a situation as dire as this. He had only done it once before. All he needed was a few more seconds until the attack was ready to be unleashed-

His throat was grabbed. 

And he was slammed onto the ground.

Ryomen loomed over him. The dark honey of his eyes shifted to a demonic read. His second pair of eyes, which he constantly kept hidden, opened, and claws grew from his nails. “Yuuji’s soul is hurting him. It would have killed him if Sukuna had not healed his wounds. I have spent all this time…all this energy…training you sorcerers…AND MY SON NEARLY DIES!” The furious roar that Ryomen let out made Suguru’s ears ache. He slammed Suguru’s head against the ground. “What good are you if you can’t do one of the only things I asked of you?! WHY SHOULDN’T I JUST KILL YOU THIS VERY SECOND?!”

“BECAUSE YUUJI WOULD FUCKING HATE YOU!” Suguru spat out. His words made Ryomen freeze for a split second, but it was all Suguru needed to push him off. He stood back up. 

Just in time to block the fist Ryomen swung his way. It took all of Suguru’s concentration to avoid being hit. So much so that he could no longer focus on summoning the Maximum Uzumaki. Only hand-to-hand combat was possible. Mentally, he thanked Ryomen for teaching him more martial arts. Even if said man was using those moves to kill him. They collided again and again. He had lost count of the amount of times he had redirected or parried an attack, but he could not stop. It was a dance of death. Additionally, the smoke from the flames made it harder to breathe. His head swam from the heat, which led to Ryomen throwing him onto his back. Every time, Suguru would kick and claw to break free. Bruises littered their bodies, cuts and scrapes covered their knuckles, and blood leaked from their many scrapes. 

Eventually, Ryomen managed to grab both of Suguru’s arms. The elder pinned them tightly against Suguru’s lower body. He was using his shoulder to make his hold even more uncomfortable. “As long as Yuuji is safe, I don’t care how much he would hate me. I’d kill this entire world if it meant keeping him safe. If I killed everyone this very second, I’d have no problems to worry about.”

“What about Yuuji-kun’s soul?”

“I’d figure it out. Without anyone to harm us, it will be easy to find a cure.”

“Do you truly want to kill us? After the years we have spent together?”

Ryomen released his arms. He looked at the fire encircling them with a far away look in his eyes. The flames were reflected within them. “I want to kill the world for what it has done to me, for what it has taken away from me, for what it has done to my son! You can rot for all I care.”

“That’s a lie.” While Ryomen’s words hurt, Suguru knew the man was trying to anger him. It was something he often did himself: hurt others until they want nothing to do with you. “I have seen you check in on us when we’re training with the cursed souls. Every time that Satoru had a migraine from his Six Eyes, there is always a bottle of pain medication right next to him. After Shoko’s training, snacks are coincidentally laid out on a table the moment she’s done. With me, so much of our training is you helping me find a way to never consume a cursed spirit again. I don’t think you’d waste so much energy like that if you hated us.”

The pink-haired man began to tremble. “Killing you would be easy.”

“Stop saying that-”

Before Suguru could blink, he was on his back with a blade on his throat. It was already digging in deep enough that beads of blood were escaping the wound. Suguru immediately went still. He could summon a curse to remove Ryomen, but Suguru highly doubted that his neck would be intact afterwards. 

“KILLING YOU WOULD BE EASY.” Ryomen repeated, voice nearly shrieking.

There was no deceit to be found as Suguru could tell that this was not the first time Ryomen had slit someone’s throat. From what little Ryomen had shared of his past, Suguru knew it was filled with unimaginable cruelty. Suffering that Suguru was grateful to never experience. Looking at Ryomen reminded him of when he first adopted Nanako and Mimiko. The moment he looked into their eyes, he saw that something had broken within them. Something that could never be fixed. He could recognize the same pain in Ryomen. The difference was that his girls were able to escape and live a better life. Ryomen never did. “I know you are upset about Yuuji, but you must calm yourself before doing something you’ll regret.”

“Wasting my time training you sorcerers is what I regret.” Ryomen replied numbly. 

“So you plan to kill everyone who you think is a burden or threat?”

“Exactly.”

“Then you’d kill every person on this planet.”

“It is tempting.”

“But you would hate it.” The knife dug deeper, and Suguru’s heart jumped several feet. If Ryomen pushed any further, his artery would be severed. While Suguru was strong, he knew that Satoru, Sukuna, and Ryomen were stronger. If it had been anybody else, he would have beaten them to a pulp by now. Except it was not a random stranger, it was a sorcerer with thousands of deaths under his hands and a need for revenge. 

“You know nothing of me, child.”

“Except I do. Four years of training under your tutelage has taught me many things, and one of the most evident traits of yours is that you’re scared.”

“Hah! Being concerned about my son’s safety does not make me some fearful, pathetic mongrel.” 

“You are pathetic, Ryomen-san, and you know it.” It was idiotic for Suguru to keep angering Ryomen, but he had a feeling that Ryomen was close to breaking. He simply had to withstand his rage until that happened. To protect his throat, Suguru gathered cursed energy to cover his throat. While it would not guarantee his survival, it was something. 

“YOU LITTLE WRETCH-”

“IF YOU WERE SO CONFIDENT IN YOUR ABILITIES, YOU WOULDN’T NEED TO HAVE SO MANY GODDAMN SAFETY MEASURES! IF YOU’RE STRONG ENOUGH, THAN NOTHING CAN HURT YOU OR YOUR SON. BUT YOU THINK EVERYTHING WILL!”

“I INVITE YOU SORCERERS INTO MY HOME, AND YOU HAVE THE GALL TO-”

“You’re scared, Ryomen. You’re terrified all the time, aren’t you?” Just a little further. Hit him where it hurts. “A grown man, centuries old, is terrified of the world because it managed to overpower him time and time again. You don’t want anything happening to your son because you know you’ll be too weak to save him. He’ll die just like he did the first time.”

“SILENCE YOUR VILE MOUTH! HOW DARE YOU. HOW FUCKING DARE YOU!”

“IT’S YOUR FAULT THAT YUUJI DIED!”

“BE QUIET!”

“YOU BLAME YOURSELF ALL THE TIME. I’D DO THE SAME THING.” Suguru swallowed the sudden knot in his throat, hyperaway of the blade against it. “I’ve blamed myself constantly for the deaths of those I care about. It does not solve anything. It won’t bring them back. What’s happening with Yuuji’s soul is concerning, but I promise that we will do all we can to help him.”

“And if I refuse to let you live?”

“Then you will prove to me just how scared you are.” He made sure to keep his voice as harsh as possible. Speaking in such a way would have frightened Mimiko and Nanaki, giving them flashbacks of their time in the village, and Suguru knew he was causing the same thing to Ryomen. Despite being hundreds of years older, Ryomen had stopped aging in his early twenties once he gave his soul to Sukuna. Looking at him without knowing the truth, Suguru would have thought that Ryomen was the same age as him. Currently, Suguru could tell that the young child hidden within Ryomen was on the cusp of shattering. And Suguru hated it. He was doing everything that would trigger his girls on purpose. It was the only way that he could think of to make Ryomen let him go. From how clouded Ryomen’s eyes were becoming, Sugar knew it was working. “Everyone will hate you. They’ll see your weakness and laugh. Perhaps you should do it then. Once everyone sees what you did, they will realize that you were never worth caring about. Yuuji will see that his father is a pitiful man and will want a new one. You were never good enough to him, anyways. You’re worthless.”

The hand that was pressing the blade against his neck began to tremble.

“They’ll hate you and want nothing to do with you.”

It shook even more. 

Ryomen’s grip on the knife was loosening considerably.

What terrifies Nanaki and Mimiko the most?

“You’ll be alone.”

Finally, the blade left his throat as Ryomen dropped it. 

Tiny droplets of water landed on Suguru’s face.

Without the knife, Suguru was able to look up to see the source. It was too warm to be the rain. 

And he was right.

It wasn’t the rain.

It was tears.  

Ryomen had broken. Just as Suguru planned. He slipped out of Ryomen’s grip to kneel next to him and felt guilt grip his heart. Ryomen’s eyes were wide and unblinking, staring at something only he could see. Suguru rubbed the thin cut along his throat as he stared at what he had done. It was necessary, but it was cruel. However, Suguru could not say with confidence if Ryomen didn’t deserve it. Neither of them were stellar people. Pain was something they both deserved. 

On bruised legs, Suguru stood up. Now that he had broken free, he was not sure if he should stay until Ryomen came back to his senses or leave him be. 

The question was answered for him.

With his back to Suguru, Ryomen muttered. “You pass.”

All the flames went out, and Suguru felt sick. This was originally supposed to be a test. A test that was all about gaining Ryomen’s trust. “I-”

The elder held up a hand to silence him. “You’ve earned my respect. Now, go. I will stay here for a while.”

So Suguru left. 

While he made his way to the shrine, the sky cleared and Suguru remembered that, while a few hours had passed, it was still morning. 

After everything…

It was still fucking morning.

This isn’t a personal attack. These are just facts. I do them all aaaa

growing up without a fidget toy moodboard

Onii-Chan🥺

Long time no jjk, have some sweet brothers💜

Ah, yes, *looks at smudged handwriting*

Thong

Parrot

Viagra

Lungs

Roll

Despacito

And our newest addition: Rectum

@thatsthat24

Cursed Guardians (A JJK Fic)

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For something that was supposed to be prohibited or off limits, Suguru had always found entering the catacombs the easiest task in the world. Jujutsu sorcerers were so spread thin that the school could only spare a measly five guards to protect Master Tengen, the sole being responsible for the barriers protecting the human world from the jujutsu world. This left everything else unguarded, including the catacombs, which held some of the most infamous texts in jujutsu. Information that can easily be used against them. 

To make up for the lack of guards, there were several illusionary buildings across the Tokyo and Kyoto campuses. In Tokyo, the number of fake buildings had drastically increased after the incident with Toji Fushiguro. Besides the misleading structures, talismans and other protective seals had been placed on the entrances to important areas. Most sorcerers could not break the seals, but Suguru was not like most sorcerers. 

With a flick of his hand, the bindings covering the wide entrance of the catacombs were cut to ribbons by one of the many curses Suguru had under his control. 

Unlike Satoru, Suguru knew how to remain undetected. The higher ups still had no leads as to who had been regularly breaking the seals to the catacombs for the past two years. It was a feat Suguru was quite proud of. He had used his plethora of curses to shred the seals, before promptly killing it. By doing this, Suguru made the elders think that a random curse had tried entering the catacombs, only for the curse to be exorcized by the powerful seals it had broken. The cursed energy signals were enough for the higher ups to not bat an eye at the recurring incidents. It was fitting. When given the choice, the elders would rather focus all their attention on whatever bothered them than anything that could pose an actual threat to the jujutsu world. The catacombs were not a priority for the elders whatsoever, but Suguru could not be upset by that. Afterall, the neglect of the catacombs were what allowed him to enter it many, many times.

This time was no different. 

“I always forget how musty this place is.” Suguru clamped a hand over his nose as he descended the carved, stone staircase. While it wasn’t a disgusting smell by any means, it still made the teen shudder and feel nauseous. He had a feeling as to what the scent originated from.

Death. 

Suguru was well acquainted with death, considering his line of work. Death did not smell revolting or vile. No. That was the smell of decomposition. Death itself smelled, with lack of a better term, heavy . It was a scent that had a presence to it. Similar to the cleansing, peaceful presence the air has after a storm. It was a scent that made Suguru’s chest tighten and throat close up. There was a barely detectable earthy note to death. It was subtle, but it was enough that Suguru had memorized the distinct smell. It smelt of ancient waters and aging moss. He imagined it smelt of the section of a forest that many find by accident. It’s untouched by man and animal. The clearing is small, only having a small pond and few trees. While the ground is covered by leaves, all the trees are left barren. There is the smallest flow to the pond, causing the leaves on the surface of the murky water to sway back and forth. It was the loneliest part of the woods.

The scent of death permeated every crevice of the catacombs. There was no doubt in Suguru’s mind that these underground tunnels were also used to bury the many corpses of his fellow sorcerers. Jujutsu sorcerers have existed for centuries, so it was highly likely that this labyrinth was also a makeshift gravesite at some point. Suguru did not let that knowledge bother him. He clenched his fists as he continued his journey downwards. 

To light the way, Suguru had summoned several jellyfish-like curses that acted as tiny flashlights. No one was meant to be down here, so it didn’t surprise Suguru that not a single torch along the walls of the caverns had been lit. 

Despite the many tunnels appearing as he got lower and lower, he paid them no mind. As he journeyed further, the stairs became more cracked and weathered. The first time Suguru had ventured here, he had nearly cracked his skull open due to a massive hole in the stairway. Now, Suguru simply summoned a curse with tree-like roots and walked across the pit without issue. Once Suguru spotted the last steps of the winding staircase, he breathed a sigh of relief. His forehead felt sweaty and his body felt quite sore. Considering he had been unconscious for several days, he knew that it was a foolish idea to strain his body in such a way. Suguru could not be bothered to care. 

Finally, his feet met with the floor of the lowest level, the true catacombs. Suguru had to stick his nose into his elbow to breathe in the scent of his shirt. At such a deep level, it was hard to breathe on principle. The smell of dust only served to make things worse. The faint smell of detergent helped Suguru’s chest loosen. After a few moments of adjusting, Suguru raised his head and made his way to the many rotting bookshelves before him. In the years prior, Suguru had taken the time to make a small reading area for himself. In addition, the black-haired boy used his curses to help gather books Suguru found interesting. He had purposely kept his friends out of this hobby of his. While it would be exponentially easier to travel to the catacombs with the help of Satoru’s teleportation abilities, Suguru wanted to keep this place to himself. Shoko and Satoru had never been the studious types, so he knew they would get bored quickly in a pseudo-library like this. 

He made a beeline to his personalized corner in the back of the area. The lowest level was full of dusty books and scrolls, nothing else. It was quite smaller than the upper levels Suguru had explored. Even so, it was still a sizable place. Suguru effortlessly made his way through the many winding paths and bookshelves. Once he spotted his corner, Suguru smiled. 

It only had a large blanket, a futon, several candles, and one pillow. Next to the sitting area was a neatly stacked pile of books. Suguru plopped onto the futon, not bothering to dust it off with how exhausted his body was. He summoned a tiny flame with the help of a curse that resembled a hybrid of a rock and salamander. He lit the largest candle, sighing in contentment once the smell of vanilla and lavender reached his nose. Suguru made sure to place the lit candle in a place that would not pose a threat to the many flammable objects around him. 

Suguru used the elastic band on his wrist to tie his long hair in a messy bun. It was the longest it's ever been, but Suguru enjoyed the look much more than his previous hair style. With his hair out of his face, Suguru sorted through the books until he found the one was looking for. 

THE FORGOTTEN HUMANS: CURSED SOULS

By: Itadori Kaori

A sudden shiver overtook Suguru’s body. Now that he had faces to the creatures he thought were nothing but myth, he couldn’t help but feel uneasy. When he had read the book the first time, he thought it was an intriguing story, perhaps theory. He did not think much of it. He didn’t think much of the author either. Suguru had thought that the author was just an eccentric sorcerer with too much time on her hands. Considering the apparent truth to her words, Suguru knew he needed to do research on Itadori Kaori. He had never heard of her before, and he had found it strange for such a modern textbook to find its way in an abandoned labyrinth. At the time, he thought it had been placed by the higher ups due to its possibly ludicrous texts. The elders had always censored the textbooks Suguru and his other peers used heavily. It made sense that such a controversial book would be dumped here. 

The more he thought about it, the more strange the book’s existence became. Suguru shook his head harshly. He had a purpose for being here. He can’t be sitting for hours trying to solve a mystery he had no knowledge on. Satoru needed him. If Kaori Itadori had anything that could be useful in helping Satoru, Suguru could care less who she was. 

Maybe he could multitask. 

Suguru summoned a ghostly owl that towered over him, awaiting orders. “Find any texts written by Itadori Kaori or anything relating to cursed souls. If there isn’t either, try to find anything that has pictures of these creatures.” The teen transferred the images of the six creatures to his owl helper. He had absorbed the curse during his first year. It was a curse that had been spotted in the remnants of a burnt library, already having killed seven people who ventured into the remains. It was a clever curse despite being a grade three. He knew that if there were any curses who were fit for the job, it was this owl cursed spirit. “Bring me whatever you find.” With that, he sent the curse on its way. 

He sincerely hoped this strange woman had answers. 

“Please have something.” Suguru whispered underneath his breath. He made his jellyfish curses gather close so he could see in the dark room. As he opened the textbook, he immediately went to the table of contents. Once he found the most useful pages, he flipped to them. 

He was greeted by a crude drawing of the six entities he had encountered that fateful night. 

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Suguru began to read. 

Throughout all of human history, there seems to be a common phenomenon shared by all eras and civilizations. A cave painting (pictured on the upper left) depicts the outlines of six unknown creatures. This painting has been dated to be more than 40,000 years old. These creatures share no resemblance to the animals observed in previously discovered cave paintings. What’s more, these six entities share no resemblance to any animal, extinct or not. This could be seen as a creative drawing of our ancestors and nothing more if it wasn’t for the fact that there are repeated instances of these creatures appearing in paintings across the world.

For instance, a painting from a temple belonging to a young pharaoh in ancient Egypt (pictured on the bottom right) was discovered. The name of the pharaoh has been lost to time, but the paintings along the walls of his tomb depict two of the creatures beside Anubis, the Egyptian god of the dead and afterlife. The appearance of the creatures from a cave painting to a painting in a pharaoh's tomb shows that there is significance to these strange beings. Moreover, one of the creatures, a canine with the skull of another creature atop its head, is drawn next to the pharaoh. The pharaoh is seen petting the head of the entity with a smile. The second creature, a dragon with the beak of a bird, is seen behind Anubis, towering over the god. For a revered god like Anubis being overshadowed by an unknown creature, there is a likelihood that these creatures could have been worshiped in a similar regard as to the more well-known Egyptian gods. 

Suguru felt like throwing up. It should be impossible! That damn shrieking bird is NOT in that painting! Cursed souls cannot be that old! He began flipping through the chapter frantically. 

Sculptures of a woman with roses and spikes have been found alongside the sculptures of the Greek goddess Athena-

Norse mythology depicts a creature made of shadows meant to punish those who it deems malevolent-

Carvings of a cat with spikes have been seen in a multitude of Aztec temples- 

“What the fuck?!” Suguru yelled at the book. He had completely forgotten about the timeline that the author had written to show how the group of entities had been depicted over the past several centuries. When he had read it the first time, he had glossed over most of the details. He wants to slap his younger self for being so ignorant. Quickly, he went back to the table of contents and scanned through the many chapters until he found the section centered around the origins and myths of the creatures. 

Suguru was quick to notice the change in the author’s tone. Instead of a neutral, analytical approach, Kaori Itadori wrote with an almost unhinged passion. It was clear that she was writing with her personal feelings instead of using a more educational approach. It became slightly unsettling for Suguru. It truly felt like this woman was speaking to Suguru like he was an old friend, rambling on about her theories as if she was next to him.

These beasts make the oldest of recorded curses seem like newborns in comparison. Their appearance and descriptions over the past several centuries match those of a curse much more than anything natural to this world. However, there is one notable fact that must not be forgotten. Curses have only been able to appear in Japan. There are no other records of curses appearing in other countries or continents. This is due to Master Tengen’s barrier technique. However, the existence of these six beings precedes the existence of Master Tengen. It should be impossible for such a thing to occur. And it is impossible! The six creatures are not curses, but something else entirely!

Curses are born from human emotions. In the stone ages, there were not enough people to create such negativity. Back then, early humans were solely focused on survival. There was not any room to stew in one’s regrets or sadness. Thus, curses did not exist in such times! But these creatures did! It’s marvelous! Delightfully interesting! I’ve taken it upon myself to study the existence of these beings! I’ve named them Cursed Souls!

Based on accounts from the jujutsu sorcerers of the past, these entities exhibited very notable abilities and behaviors. They are not supposed to be on this Earth, yet they are! In straight defiance to the natural order! It’s so exciting!

I believe that they are remnants of a world long forgotten. Souls of people that were not allowed to move on, cursed to roam the lands until they find what will bring them eternal peace. It’s well known that many curses are manifested from the result of a person or sorcerer dying with too many regrets. The connection between death and curses cannot be ignored! Cursed souls are the perfect amalgamation of cursed energy and death. A being of indescribable power being birthed from a death of indescribable agony! It’s inspirational! These beings, based on the many depictions of them throughout ancient times, were revered as gods. The soul has always been an anomaly for us sorcerers to understand. It is not out of the realm of possibilities to say that these souls are from a different time entirely. Perhaps the souls of today originated from the world the cursed souls are from. We are the finalized version of the rough draft the world had to go through to become what it is today. 

The techniques each cursed soul has further proves this theory. Cursed techniques are often hereditary. The most powerful clans are quite protective of their techniques and refuse to have their clan members ‘mix’ with others. In spite of this, the revered power of the Six-Eyes and Limitless technique is held by one of these cursed souls based on reports. It’s a supposedly impossible feat. How can such a creature have such a sacred technique? The answer is simple! The creature's soul originates from the Gojo clan! An innate technique like Limitless cannot appear out of nowhere, it must be passed down through genetics. One way or another, whoever the soul belonged to was a member of the Gojo clan. Like a flower regrowing after a fire. Even if the flower was burnt to a crisp, the roots remained and were able to regrow from the destruction. Cursed souls are the flowers that were destroyed in a fire, only to emerge again, stronger, from, the ashes. Sorcerers today are the seeds that were dispersed before the fire began. Away from the destruction, but still originating from the flower that got burned. 

Though, there is the possibility that there is an even bigger picture I am missing! The intrigue of cursed souls never ends! 

Suguru sincerely wished it did. His head began to pound as Suguru tried to remember what the infuriating bird demon-cursed soul-thing showed him. It was like he wasn’t allowed to remember. Each time he tried to, a white fog would cloud his mind. The author’s ramblings were giving Suguru some much needed insight, but he needed more. 

The cursed soul with that damned beak and tail did something to Satoru’s head. 

As the teen went to rub his temples, he heard the clacking of talons against the rough floor. The owl curse had appeared with several scrolls in its beak. Suguru felt himself smile at the additional information. “Thank you.” Once he took the scrolls from the wispy owl, it ran off to further investigate the catacombs. Suguru was relieved that there was more information on cursed souls than he thought. After placing the old scrolls next to him, Suguru went back to the increasingly distressing book. He flipped a few pages until he found the mythological section. It seemed this part was entirely based on Japanese mythology of the Heian Era. 

The Golden Age of Jujutsu was a time that is remembered by all, fondly or not. In such an era, it would seem obvious that there would be countless reports of these six beings. However, this is not the case. There are only three known reports of cursed souls, all of which occurred during the Heian Era. There have been no sightings or records of these creatures ever since.

Suguru glanced at the three largest scrolls of the bunch. Out of all the books and scrolls he had read in the catacombs, this was by far the oldest piece of literature Suguru had ever found. Carefully placing the more modern textbook on the blanket, Suguru picked up a random scroll of the three. He unraveled it slowly and used two of his jellyfish curses to hold down the edges. It revealed a stained paper with kanji Suguru could barely read. He had once studied ancient Japanese, but was by no means fluent in it.

Brownish-red stains littered the paper, and Suguru was trying his hardest not to think of the implications of having dried blood on a centuries old scroll. 

From what he could read, it seemed to be a report from a healer in the Kamo Clan. 

PATIENT: Kamo Inoko

Inoko’s brother, Kamo Butaro, described that an unregistered special grade attacked his sister during a mission. Both had been sent to exorcize a grade two curse that had been causing trouble for farmers with peach orchards. These are the details Butaro has shared about the mission. Apparently, farmers in the nearby area reported that many of their trees appeared to have been slashed by something with claws. They can no longer enter the orchard without being killed, and a portion of their peaches are being stolen each day. When one farmer tried to collect a basket of peaches, he was found later that night with several holes through his body and a mauled face. The curse was only targeting peach orchards. All other fruit or vegetable farms were left unharmed. One farmer reported that he had an apple and peach orchard, yet the apple orchard had remained intact. 

After hearing the complaints of the farmers, the sorcerer took the case and assigned it to Butaro and Inoko. Upon entering the peach orchard that had been the first to be targeted, both sorcerers felt a presence of a curse much stronger than a grade two. After ten minutes of being inside the orchard, Inoko tried picking up a peach that had fallen onto the ground. The moment her hand made contact, a beam of blood was shot at her hand, slicing it off. It resembled the Piercing Blood manipulation technique of their clan, but it was clearly stronger than both Kamo sorcerer’s own techniques. Butaro stated that the beam of blood was sharp enough to cut not only his sister’s hand, but some of the trees behind them. Butaro stated how he could sense the immense anger the cursed spirit had and decided to apologize. He kept apologizing as he grabbed his sister and retreated. No other attacks followed. At some point, Butaro looked back and saw the cursed spirit’s form. He said that it resembled a large cat, but it had purple fur with a black stripe on its nose. The boy also mentioned that it had several elongated spikes on its back. Each spike had a condensed sphere of blood on top, a clear use of Convergence. 

It has been two days since the attack on Inoko, and she has been put into a coma. After being pierced by the curse’s blood, Inoko soon exhibited signs of poisoning. No remedy has worked and neither has reverse cursed technique. Poisons have always been difficult to heal, so the only treatment option available is to treat Inoko’s symptoms and pray that her body can flush out the poison on its own. 

When first grade sorcerer Hayashi Daichi and special grade sorcerer Gojo Suki arrived on the scene, the cursed spirit had vanished. The only residual that remained was the blood spattered on the peach Inoko had held. 

Suguru had a feeling that the girl hadn’t recovered. Besides the draconic entity, the cat had boggled Suguru’s mind. With how viscously protective the cat was over the infant, he had no doubts that the cat would eliminate any threats to his ward without mercy. The only reason that Suguru could come up with as to why the cat had targeted peach orchards was the color. Even if it was brief, Suguru couldn’t forget the peachy pink of the baby’s hair. Suguru had seen curses obsess over certain things, often the last thing on their mind. It would become where the curse was most frequently spotted at. It could also become the garbled word the curse repeats endlessly. Curses have always been obsessive. A cursed soul was likely to be the same in some regard. 

The other two scrolls were similar reports from healers. While the second described a list of casualties at the hands of the cursed soul with spotted wrappings and the cursed soul with roses and nails, the third was a report of the erratic symptoms of a sorcerer after being hit by an unknown curse. The symptoms were familiar to Suguru. And concerning.

Patient has become incredibly hostile and aggressive. 

Patient exhibits signs of being in intense psychological distress. 

Patient unable to answer basic questions like where they are and what their name is. 

Patient has become increasingly delirious and refuses to eat or drink. 

Patient speaks of being chased and in danger. 

Patient must be restrained at all times. 

Patient shows no signs of improving no matter what treatment.

He felt his breath get stuck in his throat as he scanned the very bottom of the parchment. 

Elders sentenced patient to death after five months of no improvement. 

“Those worthless pieces of shit.” He snarled. Suguru clenched the weathered paper in his hands, uncaring of the damage he was causing to the ancient scroll. Of course the elders back then would be just as cowardly as the elders they had now. The symptoms of aggression and psychological distress matched what Nanami described. Satoru had attacked Nanami and would have attacked Suguru if the blonde hadn’t intervened. He remembered how terrified Satoru had been when he was under that strange trance that fateful night. If Satoru gets worse, the elders would surely try to execute him after labeling Satoru a danger to jujutsu society. 

Suguru felt like throwing up. How the hell was he supposed to heal Satoru if the healers of the past couldn’t do anything?!

The texts were not as useful as Suguru thought. They held no answers! He tugged harshly at his hair in pure frustration. Those were the only reports that existed of the damned things! Suguru bit his lip to keep himself from screaming. He felt his anger surge and did everything possible to get it under control. It doesn’t matter how skilled a sorcerer or healer is, cursed souls were simply on another level of strength apparently. They had no way to defeat them, the only reason the world is still standing is because these creatures were somewhat indifferent to humanity. There were no other reports of attacks, which was a relief, but it was a pain for Suguru. They only got aggressive when Suguru, Satoru, and Nanami seemingly threatened the child. It still made no sense as to why the monstrous entities would go so far just to protect a random baby-

Yuuji is special. Not just special to me. Special to the world. He is the very reason this world exists. Do anything to harm him, and your world will crumble. Though, he won’t be the one to destroy the world. He is the kindest soul in existence. I and the other guardians will be the source of your downfall. You don’t hurt him, and I don’t hurt you. 

Itadori Yuuji must be protected at all costs. He is the core of this world’s continued existence. Never forget that.

The scroll dropped from Suguru’s hands with a loud clatter. 

That was the voice of that horrid bird. He gripped at his head as it throbbed. Suguru now realized why he could not remember the conversation he had with the entity. He wasn’t allowed to remember until it was actually necessary. Like a locked gate only having a key on certain occasions, but the occasion was at random. Suguru had no idea what to cause a memory to come back, it just would. 

Hm . 

Itadori Yuuji . 

Suguru went to grab the textbook by the author of the strange textbook. Having the same last name could be a coincidence, but something inside Suguru was urging him to not disregard the oddity. He flipped back to where he left off in the textbook. The knowledge of the author and the importance of the baby were a mystery Suguru itched to solve. 

But he couldn’t solve it without Satoru. 

He wanted to kick himself over the head at getting distracted so easily. Had he become so selfish that he would put aside his best friends suffering for his own curiosities? He had gotten too accustomed to being in his thoughts for days on end. Facing the result of his self imposed isolation made Suguru feel shame pool in his gut. He had pushed Satoru away and was now suffering for it by being useless in helping his closest friend.

Being strong was something Suguru was familiar with. Helping others was also something Suguru had mastered at a young age. He was always the one to lend a helping hand without thought. Yet when his friend needed him the most, Suguru couldn’t lift a finger. Just wallow in his regrets and self-pity. Satoru had always been there for him, in the limitless user’s own unique way. Whether it was making Suguru laugh until he cried or refusing to sleep for days just to protect an innocent girl, Satoru had a kindness that Suguru lacked. Satoru was genuine in his care for others. 

Of course, Satoru could be the most annoying person on the planet, but that was not who he truly was. His cheery and often arrogant disposition was a facade that Suguru had seen through immediately. Yet, he had done nothing to rectify that. Satoru would allow Yaga, Shoko, or even Suguru himself to hit him. While the annoyed pushes or smacks to the head were definitely warranted, the fact that Satoru would consciously deactivate his Infinity for their hits to make contact stuck with Suguru. If Satoru was as cocky as he makes himself appear, then he would have never allowed them to touch him. But he did. Satoru would be the energetic one with a cheeky grin because no one else could keep a smile on their face. A smile that wasn’t fake like Suguru’s. On the roughest of days, Satoru would still be bright, something that used to annoy Suguru. When they had first gotten to know each other, Suguru had thought that Satoru’s blatant disregard for others was the boy’s true feelings. Satoru would complain about how the weak were so annoying, but would still go out of his way to make sure his missions had as little casualties as possible. He would get genuinely upset if one person got severely injured or died. It was a given that people would die in their line of work, but Satoru ignored that. Suguru had accepted it. He had thought Satoru’s want for there to be no casualties was irritating when they went on missions together. At first, Suguru had thought it was Satoru’s attempt to be better than everyone. It wasn’t. The few times that Suguru had seen Satoru’s front disappear were the times where Suguru realized how good Satoru really was. He wanted to be the strongest sorcerer and stop people from dying to curses, but was so terrified of failing that he pretended that he wasn’t human at all more often than not. Satoru felt like a weapon, not a god. He would say he had to be perfect, but Suguru had seen the tears in his crystal blue eyes whenever Satoru said it. Satoru would melt whenever Suguru touched him, as if it was the last piece of affection he would ever receive. Satoru let Suguru cry into his shoulder whenever he needed and would refuse to leave his room whenever Suguru had a nightmare. Suguru had tried to do the same, but it was never enough. Even though Satoru had never said anything about Suguru’s attempts at comfort, Suguru felt like Satoru deserved so much better. 

Beneath the glasses and the many, many walls that made up Gojo Satoru, there was a boy that was desperate to be human. That was desperate to be loved and seen as a human. So desperate to be held and praised.

 Satoru was the brightest star in Suguru’s galaxy. 

There was not any other way to put it. Suguru held a darkness within him that could only be held off by Satoru’s light. Even though Suguru had to remind Satoru of being polite and kind, he knew deep down that Satoru already was. Satoru was respectful and compassionate to those he thought deserved it. Suguru was courteous to all because that was how he was raised. The mannerisms had been carved so deeply into Suguru’s psyche that the teen was not sure what he truly believed. 

He was only who his parents and teachers sculpted him into. All of his decisions were based on the teaching drilled into him as a child. His personality often didn’t feel like his own. 

The first time that Suguru knew what he truly felt was when he had seen Satoru holding Riko’s corpse while hundreds of people applauded. It was a burning hatred that seared into his soul. Suguru had left behind all of those teachings, becoming an empty husk with no sense of who he was and what to do. Eventually, the words he shared with Tsukumo Yuki ignited something within him. He had been determined to see his plans to the bitter end, but a damned phone call changed everything. 

Suguru was doubting himself like never before. Were his only genuine feelings just hatred and anger for non-sorcerers? Was that all he was without the teachings of his elders to guide him? 

Could he even help Satoru?

“I don’t know anything.” Suguru put the scrolls and books away to wrap his arms around his knees. For the first time since Riko’s death, Suguru felt well and truly lost. There were too many things happening at once, and Suguru felt paralyzed by it all. Cursed souls exist. He needed to investigate Itadori Kaori. Sukuna was reincarnated without anyone’s knowledge. Satoru was imprisoned while his own mind tortured him. Itadori Yuuji was apparently another vital piece of the puzzle, and Suguru had no idea who he was. The world could crumble at any moment if something happens to that boy. 

A loud clatter broke Suguru out of his spiraling thoughts. 

Before him was a large scroll wrapped with black twine. Suguru looked up and saw the owl curse staring back at him. There was a sense of finality to the scroll, meaning that the owl’s search had come to an end. In a hoarse whisper, Suguru smiled. “Thank you.” He dismissed the owl with a flick of his wrist. 

It was the largest and longest scroll Suguru had ever seen. The thick spindles that held each end of the parchment were made of brass. With great care, Suguru unwrapped the twine and unrolled the ancient paper. The weight of the spindles prevented the parchment from curling in on itself. Once the scroll was fully rolled out, which had taken a while, Suguru stared at the contents it contained. 

A grand painting that had become faded from age seemed to stand before the black-haired teen. It was in the style expected from ancient Japanese art. Six familiar figures and two additional ones had been depicted in the painting. It seemed to tell a story. At the beginning of the parchment was a man with pink hair that had been set aflame, holding a toddler that looked to be dead. The words above the painting roughly translated to ‘ The scorned had been punished.’ Suguru felt nauseous as he stared into the despair so clearly drawn into the man’s face. He could almost feel the agony the man was going through the longer he stared. Shaking his head, Suguru read to the next section of the scroll. 

The next artwork was the same man kneeling down before a monster with four arms. In the man’s bloody arms was a round orb, which would have been pink if the parchment wasn’t so aged. The large monster had tattoos all over its body, tattoos that Suguru recognized as belonging to Sukuna, the King of Death. Sukuna had become something of legend for sorcerers, believed to be gone for good. Suguru wanted to yell at the skies for the world being so unforgiving. He ignored his frustration to look at the kanji next to the painting. ‘ A deal is made with the King of Death. A soul for a soul. The king wants the body, the soul, of the scorned for the rest of time in return for saving his son’s soul. The scorned makes the deal with the disgraced .’

There was other kanji, but it was too faded for Suguru to read. From the painting alone, Suguru knew that the man had made a binding vow with Sukuna. Deals that involved souls were always binding, considering how vital the material was to a sorcerer’s very being. The next part depicted the six cursed souls that were forever ingrained into Suguru’s mind. In the center of each entity was an orb identical to the one the man had been holding, seemingly being his son’s soul. The cursed souls themselves were grouped together in an almost diamond shape. At the top, the smiling visage of the birdlike entity stared back at him. On the left side were the feline and canine-like cursed souls. On the right were the faceless shadow entity and metallic-rose entity. At the bottom, the long, spotted wrappings of the mummy-like entity acted as a frame for all. The kanji next to the cursed souls was much harder to read, as if the artist was shaking while they wrote. From what he could decipher, it read as follows:

‘The king’s assistants took the son’s soul, splitting it amongst the six of them. Each would hide a piece of the boy’s soul wherever they saw fit. The ashes and bones of the boy were scattered throughout the world as well, acting as the material the demons would use to rebuild the boy when the time was right. The only being who knew the locations of all pieces was the king’s eldest assistant, the Seer of Infinity. A demon more powerful than the king .’

“More powerful than Sukuna?” Suguru whispered to himself. The legacy that Sukuna left behind was an unforgettable one. All tales tell of the immense power Sukuna held. The armies he decimated in one blow. The countless sorcerers who fell at his claws. However, Suguru couldn’t help but look back to the man Sukuna made a deal with. There were no other accounts of this man, and Suguru has no recollection of Yaga mentioning him during lessons. Though, that wasn’t Yaga’s fault. The elders had censored the records of the Heian Era heavily.  Suguru had felt like he was trying to complete a puzzle with all the pieces missing. It made sense that people as cowardly as the higher-ups would restrict information, but the information itself seemed to be quite important. If there was an entity more powerful than Sukuna, then shouldn’t all sorcerers know about it? If there was a man who had made a binding vow with SUkuna, why hasn’t there been any mentions of him? 

What were the elders trying to hide?

The rest of the scroll looked to be purposely scratched out. Suguru felt his jaw clench so hard his teeth nearly cracked. He couldn’t read any of the Kanji, and the paintings  had been blotted out with ink. 

“Tsk. Those bastards.” Suguru summoned a curse that took the appearance of a thin carpet with tentacles. At the center of the carpet was a glowing, white light. He made the curse slip underneath the scroll, specifically where the paintings had been blotted out. With a snap of his fingers, the curse lit up. The faint outline of the paintings appeared. The teen smiled in relief. “Thank you, Satoru.”

It was the white-haired teen who had taught Suguru this trick. One time, Shoko had accidentally spilled an experimental mixture on a manga Satoru had been reading. The trio had been in Shoko’s personal lab where she studied medicines and other chemicals. The mixture had stained the manga pages quite badly, but Satoru didn’t show a hint of anger. Suguru thought it was because Satoru was rich enough to buy an entire library’s worth of manga, which was accurate. However, Satoru giggled and raised one of the stained pages in the air, making sure the blinding  lights of Shoko’s lab were aimed at the paper. Suguru and Shoko had asked what the other was doing, and Satoru motioned them to come closer. Positioning himself on the ground, Suguru saw that the page of Gojo’s manga had become legible from the fluorescent light. As long as the other boy kept the pages to the brightest angle of light, he could read them.

And so could Suguru. As he commanded the curse to move underneath the scroll, he slowly could see the full paintings. It was a slow process, having to make the curse direct its small light to reveal equally small pieces of the remaining paintings. There were three remaining paintings of the scroll. The first one was a painting of the draconic cursed soul surrounded by what looked like a galaxy of eyes. Around the painting was a cycle of sorts. The start of the cycle was a picture depicting a person making eye contact with the birdlike cursed soul. Next, the person would be marked with an eye on their forehead and collapse and hold their head in agony. Following, they would be shown graphic images to torment their minds. The two next parts of the cycle depicted the person’s hallucinations getting worse and worse. The hallucinations themselves contained a bird the most. On the second to last part of the cycle, the bird seen in the hallucinations appeared on the person’s head, pecking the eye on their forehead. The last part was the eye disappearing along with the images, the person now smiling while holding the bird close. The second painting showed a battle between an army and the man Sukuna had made a vow with. The battle was painted in six stages. First, the army arrived at the throne, which was made of bones, of the man and Sukuna. Second, the army battled the man while Sukuna watched in the shadows, smiling. Third, ten square symbols appear on the man’s hand and he is surrounded by four beams of fire, each appearing to have a different form of matter. Fourth, the charred remains of the army now burn at the man’s feet. Fifth, Sukuna appears next to the man with a hand on his shoulder. Finally, the man is sitting on the throne with the added bones of the army while Sukuna stands behind the man with his four arms ensnaring him. The third and final painting was the man and Sukuna kneeling in front of each other, with one small soul above their heads and another larger soul connecting the two. The six guardians are wrapped around them. Each one has their eyes closed in a deep slumber. 

The scroll ended with a drawing of a little boy. It was so faded that Suguru had to practically shove his head against the scroll to see the tiny sketch. The boy was in the grass with his arms wrapped around his knees, looking onto the horizon. The child is leaning against a great peach tree with the outlines of six peaches, however the outlines were not colored in, making it look like the peaches were missing or even stolen. The boy was crying, yet he had a smile, just the slightest upturn of his lips. 

There was a clear story being told, but Suguru knew it would take him hours to decipher it. From what he could gather, it was a story of pain, bloodshed, and rebirth. The last picture of the little boy by the barren peach tree made Suguru feel a deep pang of sadness. Could the boy whose soul was given to Sukuna be Itadori Yuuji? Was Yuuji the baby the cursed souls were so committed to protecting? Suguru had a strong inkling that that was the case with Yuuji. Killed too young, but unable to rest with his soul and body being split and hidden away. Forced to wait alone until he was reborn. 

Suguru thought about Riko, the girl who was supposed to be lost forever in Tengen without a say in the matter.

With care, Suguru rerolled the scroll and tied the twine around it once more. He knelt by the scroll for a long, long time. He needed to investigate the scroll more, preferably with the help of Yaga and his friends. Additionally, the textbook written by Itadori Kaori still had much to explore. The only reports of the cursed souls needed to be taken as well. However, Suguru only had two arms. He needed something capable of carrying all of this without damaging the fragile scrolls. A personal inventory of sorts.

He knew exactly what curse to use. 

He just didn’t want to use it. 

“Dammit. The things I do for you, Satoru.” Suguru muttered to himself. He sighed shakily and summoned the curse Toji had once held. The long body of the worm made the black-haired boy shiver in disgust. The memories the worm brought flashed in his mind, and Suguru had to bite his lip to stop from hyperventilating. This was the only curse Suguru had that scared him. He had only absorbed it as an act of petty revenge against Toji, with no intents of ever using it. Suguru felt bile in the back of his throat as the worm wiggled and wrapped against him. With his eyes shut tight, he picked up the first writing he felt, shoving it in the worm's mouth. He did it against and again until the large scroll on the ground was left. 

The worm looked at him with its horrid, purple face. Suguru felt its stare and shivered violently. “I hate you. I need you to know that I hate you.” He spat. 

The curse didn’t respond.

He sat on the ground and gathered the heavy scroll into his arms. With his eyes still snapped shut, he commanded the worm to start swallowing the scroll. He truly hoped Toji was watching from hell as his supposed servant now worked for the sorcerers he had tried to kill. 

Once the worm finished swallowing the scroll, Suguru dismissed it and immediately felt the tension within his body disappear. 

He stood to his full height, stretching his arms above his head until he felt multiple things pop. His sore body ached fiercely, but Suguru couldn’t stop now. The last scroll had finally given Suguru what he needed to help Satoru. While the full story within the scroll was yet to be deciphered, a way to free his best friend’s mind had been revealed. 

The cycle surrounding the bird-dragon entity. A bird had shown up the most in the person’s hallucinations. The bird then freed the person by breaking the eye attached to the victim’s forehead. Once the eye broke, the person was freed.

Suguru was likely the one showing up the most in Satoru’s hallucinations, accounting for the white-haired boy’s reported attempts at killing him. Perhaps seeing the one tormenting him the most suddenly helping him would break Satoru out of his trance more efficiently. Or perhaps make the hallucinations weaker if the subject of the hallucination is acting in contrast to the contents of said hallucination. Either way, it’d provide an opening of sorts to rid Satoru of his torment. 

He would free Satoru. No matter what. Suguru will succeed. There was no need to think of another plan if he fails. Because he won’t fail. 

He wouldn’t forgive himself if he failed. 

-

At some point, Shoko had stopped being surprised by the many antics her insane friends got into. Sure, when they first met, Shoko was caught off guard many times by Satoru and Suguru’s high jinks. It didn’t take long for Shoko to become an accomplice herself in their mischief. Now, Satoru could come into her office covered in chicken feathers with Suguru holding a rabid curse like a puppy, and Shoko wouldn’t bat an eye. It sounded like she was exaggerating, but she had seen the chaotic pair do weirder. As innocent as Suguru looked, she knew that it took practically zero convincing from Satoru to make the black-haired boy join in whatever prank the other was conctoing or vice versa. As long as they didn’t target her, Shoko didn’t care. They had tried to prank her once, but then remembered that she is the one with the best snacks and unlimited library of illegally downloaded movies and television shows. 

Their antics made her smile. 

This, however, did not.

“Do you think Satoru would calm down if we unleashed him in a candy shop or some shit?” Shoko spoke around her unlit cigarette. She wasn’t allowed to smoke in Tengen’s corridors, and all her nerves were already fried. Next to her, Yaga sighed heavily, looking like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. In a way, it was. 

“No. Despite Satoru’s sweet tooth, I doubt that would be enough to return him to his normal state.” Yaga grumbled, arms crossed. His sunglasses blocked all view of his eyes, but the girl could see how tense her teacher’s body was. “Any attempts at releasing him would be seen as treason to jujutsu society, ending in our executions.” 

“Worth a shot.” 

“Don’t even think about releasing him, Shoko.” 

“What makes you think I’d do something that stupid? That’s Suguru’s job.”

“To be stupid or release Satoru?” 

No response. 

The girl looked at her teacher. Her teacher looked at her. Tension formed in the air as the elder awaited the younger’s response. Without further hesitation, Shoko met Yaga’s stare head on. 

“Both.” 

“Shoko.” An exhausted sigh escaped Yaga’s lips, he rubbed his temples to ward off the incoming headache. He took off his sunglasses to start rumbling the bridge of his nose as well. He was so damn tired. These kids. They’ve gotten quite attached to one another. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen a group of students willing to go so far for each other. In any other world, this would be a good thing, but it is only seen as something to take advantage of in this cruel world. “Suguru will not be releasing Satoru, the decision is up to the elders.” 

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” An unexpectedly sharp tone bled its way into Shoko’s normal monotone. Her passive features twisted in a deadly glare and scowl. The cigarette fell from her mouth as she roughly grabbed the collar of Yaga’s shirt. Despite her small stature, the strength of her iron grip could not be ignored. “Stop turning belly up every time the elders are involved in something!  They don’t care about you or any of us! They certainly don’t care about Satoru! They’re going to try to execute him the second our backs are turned! Because they’re fucking COWARDS!”

“Enough, Shoko-”

A violent tremor shook the ground the two stood on. Instantly, Shoko let go of Yaga and snapped her gaze to the source of the tremor. Or, more accurately, the person.

The one causing the building to shake was the one and only Gojo Satoru, bound from head to toe in chains and protective talismans. However, the talismans were there to protect others from Satoru, not Satoru himself. 

His arms were crossed behind his back and connected to a long chain on the ceiling, forcing the teen’s arms to be in an extremely uncomfortable position. Each leg had a metal bracelet with spikes on the inside, the chain of the bracelets being built into the floor. A heavy belt of chains wrapped around Satoru’s torso for the sole purpose of making it harder for the boy to move and breathe. His mouth was bound tightly with rope covered in more talismans. A much thicker rope was wrapped around his eyes with enchanted fabrics and talismans sewn into every fiber. The cracked floor next to Satoru’s left foot was the cause of the tremor. Satoru had stomped a hole into the floor due to the loud argument Shoko and Yaga were having. His mindless rage returned instantly, causing the boy to thrash in his bindings like a madman.

Drool pooled from the makeshift gag as Satoru writhed in frenzied outrage. He was trying to go towards where he heard Shoko’s voice, but the bindings were not long enough to allow him anything more than a step. Satoru’s muffled howls and screams made Shoko feel nauseous. One of her closest, goofiest friend’s had been reduced to a rabid animal. More cracks litter the floor as Satoru dug his feet into the stone floors, similar to a raging bull. Despite his attempts, the teen was no closer to being free. Satoru was in the middle of a wide room, so he had no walls to lean against or kick . A barrier was put up in addition to Satoru’s bindings. Neither Shoko nor Yaga could go through. It further made Shoko feel like she was looking at an animal at a zoo exhibit. 

“Do you really trust the elders with Satoru?” Shoko whispered, not taking her eyes off of her maddened friend.

“No. I don’t.” 

“Do you trust Suguru with Satoru?” She glanced at Yaga, who was stone faced while looking at his former student. 

“Absolutely.” Yaga spared a quick glance at Shoko before glancing back at the imprisoned boy. 

“Then let him help, sensei. Please.” It was the softest and most vulnerable Yaga had ever heard Shoko. She was normally such a level-headed girl, bordering on apathetic. He felt his doubts wash away at the sheer desperation in her voice. She didn’t show it, but Yaga knew how deeply the teen cared for her peers. 

He placed a hand on her shoulder. Yaga nodded firmly. “Alright.”

For the first time in months, Shoko smiled. “Alright.”

The next couple hours were spent with Yaga and Shoko standing guard over Satoru. Neither of them were comfortable enough with leaving the boy in such a vulnerable state on his own. Each watched with increasing sadness as Satoru’s mind and body deteriorated. His feet were bloodied from his constant kicking and stomping. His ankles were ripped to shreds from the spikes of the metal cuffs. A small pool of blood had gathered beneath Satoru as a result. His wrists were rubbed raw from his thrashing, minutes away from becoming as bloody as his ankles. With his arms being forced to be crossed and raised in the air for so long, Satoru had begun trembling from the strain. His arms were covered in angry, red blotches from the uneven blood flow. To make things worse, the pain in his arms had grown so unbearable that the rope covering Satoru’s eyes became soaked in the boy’s tears. His chest heaved with every breath from the chains around his torso. Despite having reverse cursed technique, Satoru was in no state to use it nor remember that he even had it . Shoko felt useless. She was the healer, yet she was not allowed to go inside the barrier and heal Satoru’s wounds. 

Sporadically, Satoru would have bursts of energy and start howling and thrashing. It was clear that he was trying to go towards where Shoko and Yaga stood, but couldn’t. Whether it was to attack them or not was unknown. There was one terrifying moment where Satoru tried activating his cursed technique. A blue light showed in his palms and the corridors trembled like a wobbly stack of blocks. Shoko would have yelled at Satoru if it wasn’t for Yaga reminding her that it would not snap Satoru out of his trance. Eventually, Satoru’s energy dropped and the glow went away. He twitched and muffled various things for almost an hour nonstop. 

Currently, Satoru had quieted down. His loose white shirt, provided by the lost and found bin the school had, was stained with blood, sweat, and drool. His body was constantly trembling from the muscles being strained for far too long. It looked like his knees would buckle at any minute with how harsh the tremors were. The black pants he wore were too short on his lanky legs and revealed the deep bruising Satoru had given himself by repeatedly kicking at the stone floor. Wheezes escaped the boy’s bound lips. Shoko had no doubt in her mind that his ribs were bruised or even fractured from the tight bindings. Despite his weakened state, she also knew that Satoru was still the strongest in the room. Even with Tengen’s barrier, the miasma cursed energy always held had gotten so thick that Shoko found it hard to breath. It felt like breathing something as volatile as electricity. Her hair as well as Yaga’s had become frizzled from the sheer power within the air. Satoru was still producing cursed energy, likely from his hallucinations causing the boy to think he was in a battle of sorts. However, the cursed energy had nowhere to go due to the talismans and barrier. Moreover, the surplus of energy felt unstable. It reminded Shoko of how Satoru’s technique used to feel when he was a first-year still figuring his powers out. Erratic and ready to ignite at a moment’s notice. 

Shoko had decided to sit down after the first half-hour of watching her friend. Fighting off the want to leave and go smoke had taken all of  her focus. So much so that she barely registered her phone going off. Yaga had to shake her awake. 

“Check your phone. And silence it when you're done.” Yaga mumbled. He patted her shoulder before promptly walking off the opposite side of the room. Neither of them noticed how Satoru’s head tilted towards the sound of Yaga’s shoes clacking against the floor. 

Blinking away her weariness, Shoko pulled out her phone, which miraculously still worked underground. It was a text from Suguru. 

She shot up like a rocket. Relief flooded her so fast that Shoko blurted out, “It’s Suguru!” 

Immediately, a snarl interrupted her mini-celebration. At the name of his supposed best friend, Satoru’s writhing began anew. However, his thrashing was the most violent it's ever been. The air grew thick with power, giving off the scent of ozone. Yaga slapped a hand against his face and groaned. His students were amazing, but stupid. 

“Shit.” Shoko lowered his voice and body. She went back to her phone and read the series of texts Suguru sent her. 

curse_gobbler: @lesbianmalpractice i’ve figured out a way to save @xXxlimitlessfirby42069xXx (Today at 6:08 PM)

curse_gobbler: find a way to get him out of that barrier. i need more time to set up some things on my end. (Today at 6:09 PM)

curse_gobbler: try to send him to the arena we use during exchange events. idc how you do it just do it please. if you can’t do that just send him to the surface and i’ll figure it out. it’s best to have him in the forest (Today at 6:11 PM)

curse_gobbler: text me when you free him pls (Today at 6:12 PM.)

curse_gobbler: if you don’t free him, i will literally kill u and kms (Today at 6:12 PM)

lesbianmalpractice: got it. i think talking shit about u will work. satoru started fucking snarling the second he heard ur name. (Today at 6:13 PM)

curse_gobbler: damn. just get him to activate his limitless and i’m sure it’ll be stronger than tengen’s barrier. (Today at 6:14 PM)

lesbianmalpracitice: u think that satoru’s limitless is more powerful than tengen’s barrier? (Today at 6:14 PM)

curse_gobbler: it has to be. otherwise i can’t do shit. i’m not going to consider anything other than success. i refuse to. (Today at 6:14 PM)

lesbianmalpractice: you’ll succeed suguru. no one knows satoru like u. and when this is all over, we’ll have a movie marathon and sleep for a week. and change satoru’s stupid username (Today at 6:15 PM)

curse_gobbler: i’m looking forward to it (Today at 6:15 PM)

lesbianmalpractice: i am too (Today at 6:16 PM)

“It’ll work.” Shoko whispered to herself. She put her phone in the pocket of her jacket and went to the very edge of Tengen’s barrier. She was so close that she could feel the energy the barrier was emitting. Like clockwork, Satoru lunged towards her, not going very far. One of the spikes within his ankles bracelets had become wedged deep into the skin, but Satoru showed no signs of pain. With a deep breath, Shoko shouted as loudly as she could. “SUGURU IS STRONGER THAN YOU. I HOPE SUGURU BEATS YOU TO A PULP. SUGURU IS GOING TO STOP YOU. SUGURU IS BETTER! SUGURU! SUGURU! SUGURU IS GOING TO SAVE YOU, SATORU!”

“What are you doing, Shoko?! Do you want him to-”

A shockwave of pure cursed energy caused each sorcerer to crash to the ground. Cracks littered the ground, even outside of Tengen’s barrier. Satoru screamed against his binds, thrashing so hard that Shoko heard several bones crack. The scent of ozone intensified until Shoko felt her nostrils burn. She motioned Yaga to come to her and not the line of fire. 

Satoru roared as he jerkled his arms down, causing a sickening snap to fill the air. 

He had broken his arms and dislocated his shoulders to have his hands in front of him. Screaming, Satoru pulled his wrists apart until the skin tore. Eventually, the chain connecting the shackles together snapped. With his arms bleeding profusely, Satoru raised his hands to the rope around his mouth and tugged harshly, immediately breaking it in two. Satoru spat the rope out and gasped deep lungfuls of air.

With each breath, the wounds around Satoru began to close. His reversed technique had finally kicked in with the removal of some of the talismans. Satoru tore apart the chains around his torso like paper, screaming while he did so. He broke into a coughing fit with the sudden decrease in pressure on his lungs. In seconds, Satoru recovered and went to the shackles around his heavily damaged ankles. Eachspike was embedded deep into his ankles. With a frustrated snarl, Satoru raised a hand in the air and chopped off his right ankle. Shoko felt herself recoil at the sight, wanting to instinctively go to her friend and slap him beside the head for being so reckless. However, the ankle was fully restored in the blink of an eye. Satoru repeated the same motion with his other ankle. With everything except for his eyes being freed, Satoru took the time to reset his shoulders. He showed no hint of pain. Instead of agonizing screams or whimpers, Satoru’s lips were moving in an apparent conversation with himself. He stopped suddenly and froze, his lips still busy frantically muttering nonsense. 

Shoko saw how hard Satoru shook. Healing broken bones and amputated limbs took an indescribable amount of cursed energy. Satoru may have a well of cursed energy deeper than comprehension, but he was still human. He hadn’t drank or eaten in days and had just used massive amounts of cursed energy. 

He needed a boost. 

“SUGURU IS AT THE SCHOOL, SATORU! HE’S WAITING FOR YOU!” 

It was exactly what he needed. 

As if a switch had been flicked, Satoru jolted from his prior catatonic state. He locked his covered eyes with Shoko. “ Where. Where is he? ”

His voice was nearly unrecognizable with how raspy it was. It sounded painful, like each syllable was an agony to suffer through. She shook her head to rid herself of her worried thoughts. “He’s in the forest where the exchange event usually takes place! Suguru is waiting for you there, Satoru.” It was clear that the hallucinations were making Satoru see Suguru as some monster to be stopped. Shoko saw how tense Satoru was getting, a viper ready to strike. She backed away and motioned Yaga to do the same. “Yeah. Suguru’s there, Satoru. Suguru is dangerous. He’s already killed people.” 

Before she could breathe, Satoru ripped off the rope around his eyes and bore his maddened gaze into Shoko. He banged his fists on the barrier. “WHO?! WHO DID HE KILL?!  TELL ME NOW!”

Make him use limitless. Make him stronger than Tengen, even if it’s just for a second. He has to be stronger. He’ll die if he isn’t. She swallowed. “Everyone.”

It was silent for a moment before all hell broke loose. The ground, walls, and ceilings trembled as Satoru began to howl a scream of pure loss and pain. A purple glow was starting to emit from Satoru’s palms. In addition, the barrier shook with effort to contain the boy. It got brighter and brighter as Satoru charged up enough energy to blow up the whole country.

“WE HAVE TO GO.” Yaga shouted, grasping onto Shoko’s arms and running towards a random corridor. She ran alongside him, heart beating rapidly in her chest. The howls of rage echoes in the chambers. Shoko felt her lip wobble as she ran and bit it harsh enough to draw blood. 

Thankfully it seemed that Tengen wasn’t upset at them, allowing them to pass through the many doors and pathways. All the while, the entire place shuddered. Debris started falling and the air around her grew hot and thick.

Just as Shoko and Yaga exited the Tombs of the Star Corridor, a violent explosion followed. With his reactivation of Limitless, Gojo Satoru managed to escape Tengen’s barrier. It couldn’t contain Infinite afterall. Moreover, all it takes is a single drop too many to make a container overflow. 

-

Suguru felt his stomach drop the second he heard the explosion in the distance. Both from relief and dread. Relief for Satoru being freed, but dread for what’s to come. When Suguru told Shoko he had a plan, it was a complete lie. At best, he had the torn scraps of a plan that should be over one hundred pages long. For once, he was grateful for his technique allowing him such a large variety of abilities. He would need his adaptability in battle more than anything else. 

The air around him grew heavy with what felt like static. Suguru stood his ground as he saw the bushes shake and trees tremble. He made sure his senses were strained to the limit to detect any signs of Satoru. The snap of a twig, the crunch of a leaf, even the scent of ice Satoru’s skin tended to have. Several of his curses were released into the forest, and he waited until he felt one of them be exorcized.

First one down.

Second.

Third.

Fourth. Firth. Sixth. Ninth. Thirteenth. Wait-

“Oh fuck.” Suguru braced himself as all of his curses were exorcized in moments. He had thought that they would buy him some time, but he had forgotten how powerful Satoru truly was. Especially a Satoru with no restraint. “Please be-”

He didn’t even get to blink before he was tackled into the dirt, a bony knee stabbing into his back. 

His curses were all semi-grade one and above. Satoru had defeated them all in less than a minute! 

For the first time since meeting the white-haired boy, Suguru truly felt afraid of Gojo Satoru.

“I didn’t take you as the one to hide, Suguru. Sending weak curses after me instead of facing me head on. You’ve sure fallen from grace~” Satoru snarled into Suguru’s ear, his hot breath causing the other to shiver. An ice cold hand wrapped around Suguru’s hair and yanked. “Did you really think I’d let a bastard like you escape a second time? No. Unlike you, I learn from my mistakes.” 

Suguru felt like he was about to be scalped with how hard Satoru held his hair. The knee on his back felt more like a knife digging into his spine. Having Satoru talk to him as if he was a monster made Suguru want to curl into a ball and disappear. All the thoughts he had about himself only being capable of hatred and anger reappeared. His eyes watered as Satoru yanked his hair again. He swore he felt something tear. He had been foolish. Suguru had thought that he would be able to handle Satoru, even if it was for a small amount of time. To even assume he was on the same level as Satoru was the most idiotic thing Suguru had ever done. There was no escaping Satoru’s grip. 

“You’ve gotten away with far too much, Suguru. I can’t even look at you anymore without wanting to incinerate you into bits and pieces. Not that you deserve such a swift end. I’ll make it slow. Just like how you tortured me for years, I’ll do the same to you.”

The volatile tension in the air grew, and Suguru was suddenly filled with regrets. Even if Satoru was deep into his own tortured mind and hallucinations, Suguru still felt like there was a level of truth to his words. He had fallen from grace. Suguru had started as a reliable, respected sorcerer, the pride and joy of his family. He was molded to be the perfect little soldier, and he fulfilled that role for years. He always kept a polite smile on his face and made sure to be as selfless as possible. Anytime he tried to do something of his own fruition, Suguru would freeze like a glitching computer. He had no thoughts of his own, only the thoughts of what a ‘hero’ would do and how a ‘sorcerer’ should behave. He had eventually come to see the teachings of his elders as law. He believed in them like a dedicated sorcerer should. He helped non-sorcerer's without hesitation. That was what he was told was right. And wasn’t it the right thing to do? Helping someone couldn’t ever be seen as bad, right? His elders didn’t lie about that. 

So why does Suguru feel like they did lie to him? They only wanted him to be the best sorcerer he could be, that wasn’t something to hate them for.

 But Suguru still did. 

He hated his teachers. He hated his parents even more. Suguru was the first sorcerer in his family line, so none of them knew what to do when their son started talking about seeing monsters in the walls. They quickly grew into seeing it as a blessing to be nurtured. His parents spent almost all their money on tutors, barely having enough for housing and food. Family members who he didn’t know existed flocked to Suguru and showered him in presents to further his career as a sorcerer. They sacrificed so much for him, so Suguru should be grateful. It was the fact that he wasn’t that bothered him greatly. His hatred towards his parents grew so intense that he dreamed of killing them multiple times. What kind of person thinks of killing their own parents? Suguru apparently. He was built wrong, malformed and useless. Saying that he’s a monster was not a stretch of the imagination by any means. His dark thoughts had grown this past year, only further proving Suguru’s point. 

Maybe he should let Satoru kill him. 

Afterall, he was the worst friend in the world. Satoru was friends with an empty shell, and empty shells can’t make a good friend. He just spat out rehearsed lines someone else had told him. Sure, he joked around with Satoru and they had become attached at the hip, but Satoru was friends with the perfect sorcerer Suguru was sculpted as. All of his thoughts and actions were based on those of another. The real Suguru didn’t know anything. What to think. How to feel. Why to continue on. His only true thought was his plan to rid the world of non-sorcerers. It had been the only thing that Suguru had believed in that wasn’t associated with his elder’s teachings in any way. That spoke bounds as to who Suguru truly was. A monster hellbent on killing innocents. That kind of person shouldn’t be Satoru’s friend. Not when Satoru was the most special thing in Suguru’s life. He couldn’t taint someone as pure as Satoru. It didn’t matter that they both had blood on their hands, Satoru’s soul was unstained. Suguru’s was stained by the putrid darkness within him. He had wanted to kill every non-sorcerer with a burning passion. A passion that was his own making. A passion that was just murder. Genocide. That was Suguru. A killing machine. 

A monster who still wanted to kill non-sorcerers. The hatred hadn’t gone away, still raging inside him. He hated those monkeys. Even after everything, Suguru couldn’t let his hatred go. Any normal person would. Satoru would. Satoru was the person that took all the blows so no one else would. Satoru was loud, obnoxious, and infuriating. He enjoyed causing mischief and roped Suguru into his plans every time. Satoru reveled in the mayhem he caused, but there was so much more to him. For instance, Satoru would cause Suguru to laugh until his sides hurt and eyes watered without prompt. He would buy Suguru and Shoko the most lavish gifts just because he could, often showing up with decadent desserts and luxurious souvenirs for the two at any time. It didn't  need to be their birthday, Satoru would just give Suguru the most expensive hoodie he had ever seen and try to justify his random gift by teasing Suguru about his style or some other weak excuse. Hell, Satoru had gifted Suguru a crystal statue of a dragon that was covered in diamonds and emeralds just because it reminded the boy of Suguru's Rainbow Dragon curse. No one had ever given Suguru gifts like that before. He was used to receiving textbooks and weapons on his birthday or during holidays. It was always about Suguru being a jujutsu sorcerer, not Suguru himself. Satoru, for some impossible reason, cared for Suguru. And Suguru was too selfish to tell Satoru to stop. 

Satour was everything to him. Suguru couldn’t imagine his life without Satoru. He was beautiful and absolutely radiant . His one and only.

Yet Suguru was willing to leave him behind.

How many times did Satoru have nightmares of the Toji incident? Of Riko’s assassination and Satoru’s own assassination attempt? Suguru used to hold Satoru and cuddle him every time his closest friend had nightmares or was simply feeling down. He would hold onto Satoru tightly, and the other would hold him even tighter, whispering ‘thank yous’ nonstop. Satoru was someone who grew up without a shred of affection, so he clung to Suguru like a koala whenever he could. How hurt must have Satoru felt when Suguru never showed up to comfort him? Fuck . When was the last time he hugged Satoru? Truly embraced him, not the desperate hug he shared in a half-conscious state with Nanami and Satoru after the disastrous Sendai mission. An actual hug, the ones where no words are shared as Suguru wraps his arms around Satoru’s waist, and Satoru can feel Suguru’s warmth while Suguru can feel the pleasant coolness of Satoru’s ivory skin. The hugs where Satoru nuzzles into the crook of Suguru’s neck with a happy hum, fitting like perfect puzzle pieces against each other. The hugs that last so long that Suguru ends up flopping on his or Satoru’s bed, continuing to hold the other as sleep takes hold of Satoru first while Suguru cards his fingers through impossibly soft snow-white hair before falling asleep himself. The hugs that leave Suguru’s soul so light and whole that it’s physically painful to separate. 

He couldn’t remember. 

“I’m sorry.” Suguru blurted out, his voice shaky and watery. The second the words left him, it was like the floodgates of Suguru’s soul opened. Tears quickly formed in Suguru’s eyes, streaming down his face in seconds. HIs chest heaved as Suguru began to cry for the first time in over a year. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Satoru. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’msorryI’msorryI’msorry -”

He couldn’t stop apologizing to Satoru. There was so much he had done that needed to be rectified. The grip around his hair loosened as Suguru, normally known for being composed and level headed, grew hysterical. His sobbing made his apologies slur together until even he didn’t know what he was saying. He didn’t stop. Even as he felt the dirt beneath his face turn muddy from his tears and snot, he continued to bawl like a toddler. He felt horrible. He felt so lost. He felt guilty and shameful and just badbadbad. 

“ ‘M sorry, Satoru.” Suguru sobbed out, his chest aching with how forcefully he said those words. His very soul was aching, and he didn’t know how to make it stop. He was remembering everything all over again. His parents. His teachers. Jujutsu Sorcery. Satoru. Shoko. Yaga Nanami. Riko. Haibara. Toji .  Finally, Suguru reached his breaking point. All the trauma and pain he had experienced came down all at once. He began to blubber like a child. “It’s my fault! I shouldn’t have left you! It’s all my fault you got hurt! Riko died ‘cause of me. I couldn’t protect her. I couldn’t protect you! And then I left you all alone for months even though I knew how much you were hurting! I ignored you, and I shouldn’t have! I’m sorry, Satoru! I know I’m a monster! I know I’ve caused you so much pain! Fuck, you died for a moment and I wasn’t there! I don’t know how to be there for you anymore, Satoru! I don’t know how to do anything! I’m a fucking fraud! I’m not a hero! I’m not good like you! You have every right to kill me! I’ll hurt more people if I live, that’s all I’m good at! And I’ve hurt you more than anyone else and I can’t do that! I can’t do this anymore, Satoru, so just do it already! Please -”

“NO!” 

The knee on his back and grip on his hair disappeared. It shocked Suguru out of his meltdown, allowing the boy to take a much needed breath. He felt frozen as he breathed in harshly, the air thick with tension. So quiet that Suguru could only hear his own heartbeat and breath. 

“Shut up. Shut the hell up this instant!” Satoru shrieked. In said instant, Suguru felt his heart skip a beat at the unhinged tone. It sounded nothing like the Satoru he knew, his voice was completely unrecognizable. Identical to someone deemed deranged or a lunatic.

Silence overcame them once more. Neither moving an inch.

The trembling breaths of Satoru were the only clue as to where the teen was, which was directly behind Suguru. Somehow, Satoru felt far too close and incredibly far away at the same time. 

“Be quiet, you bastard… Just shut up. Don’t cry like that…Please not like that! I can’t take it. I can’t either. It’s too much.” Satoru whispered in a terrified plea, a complete shift from his prior cold brutality. The weak murmurs of the white-haired teen paralyzed Suguru. “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry. I didn’t mean to…I didn’t… I’m sorry. Come back to me, please…Don’t go…”

Satoru then grew silent for several, tense minutes.

Then Satoru moved.

A few twigs snapped as Satoru walked around a still prone Suguru. He looked down at him, but Suguru noticed the violent shaking of his fists. Satoru, only clad in a dirty shirt and too short pants, had no sunglasses to hide his eyes. The clarity Suguru expected to see was nonexistent. They were foggy and unfocused. His eyelids twitched, and Suguru could see just how unstable Satoru was. His own mind was too exhausted to come up with a plan, energy drained from his outburst. Suguru rose from the floor to his knees, not feeling confident enough to stand. 

Satoru inhaled sharply. He glared at Suguru and barked out, “Don’t say that! Don’t you dare say that, you fucking asshole! Quit throwing yourself a pity party!” The teen then gripped the collar of his shirt tightly and looked at the dirt. His form shook as Satoru’s head twitched. His hands then wrenched to his head and started clawing at his cheeks. Satoru heaved in violent breaths. “Quit acting like him! You’re not him! Right?! Are you him?! But your forehead…It’s not…Is it there?! I can’t remember! Shit, I can’t remember anything!” 

He’s still hallucinating . Suguru remembered with a gasp. His breakdown had left him empty and exhausted. Yet, Suguru had no time to rest. He had to pull himself together and help Satoru. Even so, his mind wasn’t cooperating whatsoever. His body was sapped of all energy, his head pounded, his eyes burned, his stomach ached from both nausea and hunger, and Suguru wanted to curl up in a ball forever. Both his body and mind were useless. It was like trying to tie two broken strings together, only the strings have gotten so weathered and thin that it breaks each time a knot is attempted. Suguru made eye contact with Satoru, feeling like the scum of the earth. “Satoru-”

“Shut up!” Satoru wrenched his body from Suguru like it burned him. He took several steps back with shaking legs. “I’ve heard enough!”

“Satoru, please-”

“BE QUIET!” 

In a flash, Satoru was gripping Suguru by the collar of his jacket, holding him high in the air effortlessly. The forest around them seemed to grow quiet as the two stared at each other. 

Being so close, Suguru saw how terrible Satoru looked. He had forgotten that he had been comatose for several days while Satoru had been awake the entire time. Satoru had been hallucinating for days . Satoru’s body trembled nonstop, and Suguru noticed how translucent and sickly his skin looked. Blood was stained around his shirt and pants, sweat beaded from his forehead, and his eyes were bloodshot. The bags around his cloudy eyes and the slight hollowness of his cheeks meant that Satoru hadn’t slept or eaten since the Sendai mission. 

His body is shutting down. He’s going to pass out some time soon. I just have to wait it out. Suguru raised his tired arms to grasp the hand holding his collar. It didn’t budge, but Suguru held onto it tightly. He remembered the cycle the painting showed.

The bird that plagued the victim’s mind the most pecked the victim's forehead, making the eye on their head disappear and freeing the victim. 

Pecking.

An idea popped into Suguru's chaotic mind, the most idiotic idea he had ever had. But he had nothing else. 

Suguru summoned a curse to drag him back to the ground. The moment its tentacle wrapped around Suguru’s leg and pulled, Satoru jolted in surprise. Once his feet were planted on the ground, Suguru took advantage of Satoru being distracted, wrapping his arms around Satoru’s shoulders. Satoru snapped his head towards Suguru, his cloudy eyes unable to focus. Not allowing Satoru the chance to center himself, he went through with his desperate idea. 

He crashed his forehead down on Satoru’s in a brutal headbutt. 

The painful snap of both their necks was disorienting, a welt already beginning to form, but Suguru seized the opportunity to free himself from Satoru’s grip. Blood streamed down each of their foreheads, but Satoru was the most affected. He went to grasp his head, dizziness causing Satoru to wobble and sway. 

Suguru got into a defensive position, fists ready to retaliate. His eyes frantically searched for an eyeball on Satoru’s head, but he found none. The eyeball must have been symbolic then. That makes things so much harder! I can’t tell if I broke him out of the trance or not! He hissed as the pain in his head intensified. Battling would be impossible with Suguru in such a state. 

“What the hell, Suguru?! Why did you do that?! That hurt!” 

There it is. The bright voice Satoru was supposed to have. His impulsive idea had worked.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry, Satoru! Are you with me now? Can you see me?” Suguru, ignoring his mind’s warning, walked towards Satoru. He had his hands low in a placating gesture. He felt relief, but he still approached with trepidation. Satoru made no moves to attack. In fact, the boy was rubbing the bleeding welt on his forehead with a pout. “Satoru?”

“You’re lucky I can use the Reverse Cursed Technique, or else Shoko would have beat your ass. Damn, your head is like a rock, no wonder you’re so dense sometimes!” Satoru giggled. He looked like the Satoru who Suguru had come to know. With ease, Satoru healed himself and glanced at Suguru with a smirk. However, it faded as quickly as it appeared. Both of Satoru’s arms went limp at his sides. He froze like a statue, boring his eyes into Suguru’s. Disregarding the warning signs, Suguru stepped closer until he was inches apart from his friend. With the most gentleness Suguru could muster, he placed a hand on Satoru’s shoulder with his other hand cupping Satoru’s cheek. The white-haired boy’s head went limp in Suguru’s hold. His trembling grew even stronger, along with Satoru now gasping for breath. 

“Satoru!” Suguru wrapped both arms tightly around Satoru’s chest, knowing what to do on instinct alone. One hand rubbed his back in soothing strokes while the other soothes fingers through Satoru’s hair. The movements were smooth and well-practiced. He felt Satoru put all of his weight on Suguru suddenly. Thinking that he had passed out, Suguru leaned back to gaze at Satoru. Only he was still awake. However, the cloudiness of Satoru’s eyes faded more and more. Satoru’s hyperventilating grew into slow, deep breaths. 

He was back. Satoru was back.

Then he felt Satoru violenting wrench away.

Satoru stumbled to a random log with his hand covering his mouth. He used the log as support as Satoru began to gag and retch. Because there was no food to throw up, Satoru was left uncontrollably dry-heaving. On autopilot, Suguru went to Satoru and helped get his hair out of his face. It was second nature to be near Satoru, so Suguru ignored the ozone tint of the air to rub Satoru’s back. His mind was so discombobulated that Suguru forgot the delicate circumstance he was in. 

The sun had begun to set when Satoru stopped retching nothing but stomach acid. Satoru spit on the ground and shakily got up. When Suguru tried to help Satoru stand more stably, he realized that there was more going on with Satoru than Suguru thought. He seemed to be in reality, but his behavior was off-kilter. Satoru pushed Suguru away, the evening sun casting a deep orange glow on the forest and teens. There were no signs of Satoru hallucinating, but Satoru was still acting strange with his wide eyes locking with Satoru’s. 

“Are you-”

“You were going to defect and kill all non-sorcerers, right? Get rid of the ‘monkeys’. Killing hundreds of people and your own parents. You were gonna do that, right?”

All of Suguru’s veins turned to ice. “How-”

“Don’t give me any bullshit, Suguru. You had a plan to annihilate all non-sorcerers from Japan. I need an answer. No excuses. Did you plan to exterminate non-sorcerers and defect from Jututsu society? Yes or no?”

It felt like Satoru was towering over Suguru, a god looking down upon mere ants. Suguru clenched his fists so hard that his knuckles turned white. Was Satoru paying attention when Suguru brokedown? Did he know beforehand? No matter how Satoru obtained the information, he was expecting Suguru to respond. With no doubt or hesitation, Suguru answered. “Yes.”

“Why.” 

It took Suguru by surprise to hear Satoru not scream at him or kill him for his plans. He blinked, waiting for any further responses from Satoru, but the teen simply stood stiffly with a piercing gaze. Suguru looked down at the dirt. He scowled at the memories that flooded in. Riko. Toji. The applause. The deafening fucking applause. “They’re monkeys, Satoru. Their inability to control cursed energy has caused us jujutsu sorcerers to die fighting the curses they create! Jujutsu sorcerers die day in and day out because the monkeys continue to live! That’s all they are, Satoru! What have they ever done for us? Have they died for us?! Have they ever tried returning the favor?!  The answer is they haven’t! We die for them . We fight murderous curses constantly for them . We have our comrades slaughtered for them . I have to consume and absorb curses over and over and over again FOR THEM ! AND THEY’RE NOT EVEN GRATEFUL! THEY’RE MONKEYS WHO KNOW NOTHING BUT TO APPLAUSE FOR THEIR OWN STUPIDITY! Listen, Satoru! Without the monkeys, we wouldn’t have to fight curses ever again! This country would be much better off with only jujutsu sorcerers! I hate those monkeys, all they have ever done is be cruel and ungrateful, and I’m not going to be convinced to believe otherwise.” The more Suguru spoke, the more emboldened he became. The hateful passion ignited once more, and Suguru told Satoru the plan he had been cultivating for a year.

 It was disturbing to see Suguru go from staying calm to completely melting down to yelling out all of his digressions with humanity. He knew it was wrong of him, but the control of his emotions had vanished. He was a sea of anger, regret, and grief, the waves moving him in all directions with no chance of allowing Suguru to choose where he went. He was unstable. Satoru was unstable. Both boys were in horrible headspaces, only having each other to lean on, not knowing how the suffering within them grew worse and worse. 

“You hate non-sorcerers.”

“I do…”

“Non-sorcerers are monkeys that contribute nothing to our world.”

“Yeah. They are monkeys. I can’t see them any other way.”

“...”

“...”

“Was Riko a dumb, drooling  monkey that deserves to die?” Satoru asked with an eerily calm voice. His expression was hidden due to the lack of light from the setting sun. He cocked his head to the side and scoffed. “Would you have killed her yourself if she was still here?”

All of Suguru’s fire went out. He didn’t know the answer to that. Suguru was planning to kill his parents since there were no exceptions in his quest for eradicating monkeys. The thought of killing Riko made bile rise in his throat. Suguru scoffed. “She’s dead, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Quit deflecting Suguru. I need an answer.” Satoru replied coolly. The two best friends looked like they were about to face each other in a battle of the death.  Dark orange shined on Suguru’s features while a reddish-orange encased Satoru. A foot apart. Face to face. The Strongest. 

While Gojo Satoru had been broken out of his hellish reprieve, his brain was permanently altered. The trance causing him to hallucinate was broken when Getou Suguru made contact with his forehead. He had unknowingly fulfilled a binding vow. In exchange for making the psychic attack exponentially stronger, a way to break it was implemented: the main subject of the hallucinations must make skin to skin contact with the victim head. No one that had suffered under the psychic attack had ever managed to be freed. The first person to break out of the trance was Gojo Satoru. However, there was more to Gojo Satoru’s trance. Unbeknownst to Getou Suguru, Gojo Satoru had been given over two decades of information in the span of a couple days. His brain suffered permanent damage. In an act of pure impulsive and reckless thought, Gojo Satoru made a gamble he would have never made prior to the attack.

“If you tell me that Riko is a monkey who deserves to die, and you mean it whole-heartedly, then I will join you and help eradicate all non-sorcerers. I’ll even make a binding vow that will ensure my loyalty if you have doubts. Just tell me you hate Riko, and I’ll go with you to make your plans become a reality.”

Out of anything that Satoru could have uttered, this was the most unexpected outcome of all. In no world did Suguru imagine that Satoru would agree with him and join him. It should be impossible for someone like Satoru to be willing to do such a thing. A binding vow was a serious matter in all cases, and Satoru just opened himself up to one. Imagining Satoru by his side while they get rid of all monkeys was both a pipedream and Suguru’s worst nightmare. He couldn’t do that to Satoru. He was too good of a person. 

Yet he was offering his aid and loyalty. All Satoru needed was Suguru to admit what he truly thinks about Riko, that she is a monkey like the rest of non-sorcerers. 

If Suguru admitted such a thing and meant it, then the binding vow would be fulfilled immediately. Satoru would join his side and defect from Jujutsu Society. He could finally leave. His plans were no longer farfetched with someone like Satoru by his-

Someone like Satoru would hate every second. 

He couldn’t do that to Satoru. Making Satoru suffer in such a way would be the cruelest thing Suguru had ever done. Satoru meant too much to Suguru. He couldn’t drag Satoru from his place in the stars to the dark hellscape Suguru belonged in. 

And to top everything off…

Suguru couldn’t say Riko was a monkey and mean it. It would be a total lie. 

Would he have to give up on his plans? He wanted to stay with his friends, but wanted to leave and get rid of the monkeys that caused them to get hurt. Haibara was killed by a curse. A curse spawned from non-sorcerers. His friends would never suffer again if he eradicated the source of all curses. 

Riko was a non-sorcerer. 

Were there curses that spawned from Riko’s negative emotions? 

How many sorcerers were killed by those curses? Should she-

 I want to be with everyone longer!

I want to go to all kinds of places with everyone!

I want to see all kinds of things and do more!

Riko loved life and wanted to see all parts of it. She loved life more than anyone he had ever met. She was like the little sister Suguru never had. 

Let’s go home, Riko-chan. 

Yeah!

But a bullet through her skull snuffed out her light. 

What if he was the one holding the gun, seeing her as just another monkey to exterminate?

Non-sorcerers were monkeys. Riko was a non-sorcerer, but was she-

“She’s not.” Suguru gasped out. His eyes immediately began to water. “She didn’t deserve to be killed! All she wanted to do was stay with us and Misato-san! That’s all she wanted, Satoru! But that monkey Toji shot her before she had a chance to live that life! She and Misato-san were the only good non-sorcerers, but they’re dead! There aren’t any other non-sorcerers worth sparing left! Don’t you remember how those monkey’s applauded Riko-chan’s death?! None of them are worth sparing! None!” 

“What makes you think a society of sorcerers would be better?!” Satoru snapped back. He grit his teeth in a snarl. “Sorcerers are worse than non-sorcerers! If non-sorcerers are monkeys, then I’m a fucking monster!”

What?

“Satoru, you are no-” Suguru instantly went to shut down such false claims. 

“OF COURSE I AM!” It felt like Suguru had been slapped in the face. Satoru marched over towards Suguru and pushed him. Hard. There was so much force that Suguru was sent slamming into a tree, causing the bark to splinter and crack. Satoru wasn’t finished. His rage was palpable in the air. His eyes seemed to glow with how intensely they glared at the black-haired teen. “I BARELY EVEN TOUCHED YOU, AND YOU WERE SENT SEVERAL HUNDRED FEET! SORCERERS ARE MONSTERS COMPARED TO NON-SORCERERS! AND I’M THE WORST OF THEM ALL. YOU KEEP SAYING HOW NON-SORCERERS ARE MONKEYS, LIKE THEY AREN’T EVEN HUMAN ANYMORE! JUST PESTS TO BE REMOVED! WHAT DOES THAT MAKE ME THEN, HUH?! I’VE KILLED PEOPLE! I’VE HURT PEOPLE! I’M MORE OF A MONSTER THAN ANYONE ELSE! DO YOU KNOW HOW BADLY I WANT TO BE HUMAN?! I DON’T WANT TO BE SOME FUCKING WEAPON! I NEVER ASKED TO BE A SORCERER, AND NON-SORCERERS DON’T CHOOSE TO SPAWN CURSES! I’LL NEVER BE A HUMAN! NO MATTER HOW HARD I TRY!”

A blast of pure cursed energy shot from Satoru’s palms. The explosion that followed caused several trees to crash and even more ignite in flames. Tears of utter rage flowed down Satoru’s cheeks. He went to Suguru and yanked him into a standing position. With the sun almost set and the fire spreading, the forest looked to be bathed in crimson. Satoru gestured a sweeping hand towards the growing inferno. He let out a painful laugh. 

“This is me, Suguru!” Satoru let Suguru go unceremoniously and spread his arms wide. “In a society where non-sorcerers with no abilities are deemed monkeys, then I can only be this! A monster of pure destruction!” Satoru said cheerily, sending another blast of cursed energy through the forest, causing a crater to be formed where the great trees once stood. “This is me holding back, Suguru! What would I be in your perfect society if I can do this, hm~”

Suguru looked at Satoru in horror. No. The only monster was Suguru. Satoru wasn’t. If he was a monster, then Suguru didn’t know what he would classify at. His body was covered in scrapes with bruises quickly forming. Something had definitely fractured and blood was pouring from the cuts on his skull. Even so, he stood tall. “You’re not a monster! You save people with those powers-”

“I don’t.” Satoru whispered. It was then like all the energy had been sapped out of Satoru. Finally, the dehydration, sleep deprivation, and lack of food caught up to the boy, even someone as powerful as Gojo Satoru. He collapsed into Suguru’s arms, who had instinctively gone to catch him. Satoru’s body couldn't take it anymore. While Satoru remained conscious, he felt the exhaustion within his very bones call for him. He refused to give in. “I don’t save people, Suguru. I never really have. I’m much better at the opposite. Shit, I had already killed two people before I even turned ten! How wild is that? You know, I killed the puppy I was given for my seventh birthday after one day of having her. I accidentally petted her too hard and snapped her neck. And that was me trying my best to be gentle! That’s me, Suguru. I’m a freak of nature. So…How can you hate non-sorcerers so much if I’m worse?” 

The blistering heat of the fire was uncomfortable, but Suguru kept holding Satoru despite the rising temperatures. It was getting harder to breathe with the smoke from the forest fire that had gotten out of control. They needed to move, but Suguru stayed put. He couldn’t move if he tried. He was in a state of utter shock. Processing Satoru’s words was frying Suguru’s brain. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around Satoru seeing himself as anything but incredible. Suguru placed his cheek against Satoru’s soft hair. “I’m sorry, Satoru. You’re not a monster. You’re the complete opposite. You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen, and everything about you makes me feel like I’m in the presence of an angel more often than not.” Suguru let out a small smile when he felt Satoru snort at his words. He ignored the flames as a wave of serenity came over him. It felt like they were in their own bubble of sorts. “To be honest…I don’t know who I am or what I believe anymore. I hate non-sorcerers, but labeling Riko as a monkey would be tarnishing her name. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, Satoru. That’s why I distanced myself for all this time. You were figuring things out while everything around me was unraveling. I didn’t want to drag you down with me. I thought I’d get my shit together, but I didn’t. I just got worse.” Suguru tightened his hold on Satoru at that. He had gotten to his lowest, darkest points this past year. No good came out of his self-isolation. “I still don’t know what to do now, but I do know that I’m not leaving you. I want to stay by your side if you’d let me. Maybe we can figure things out together. I found out so much about cursed souls, and we’ll need to be ready for Sukuna. We need to prepare for a lot of things. I’d be a dick and an idiot if I left now. I’m staying. I understand if you don’t want to be friends with me anymore after this, but I’ll still help you and the others in any way I can. I promise, Satoru. I’ll be with you in whatever way you’ll allow me.”

Satoru shifted in his hold, a sign to be let go. Feeling anxiety ice his nerves, Suguru loosened his embrace. He prepared himself for Satoru’s rejection and scorn. He deserved it after all he put Satoru through. 

Instead, Satoru didn’t yell. He didn’t look upset whatsoever. He rolled his eyes with such fondness that Suguru felt his cheeks burn far hotter than the flames around them.

He cupped Suguru’s cheeks. 

“This is for being an asshole and leaving me alone for a year.”

Satoru slapped him. A red handprint immediately started to form on Suguru’s face. “I deserve that.” 

“You do.” Satoru then cupped his cheeks once more. His eyes shone in joy, but Suguru had no clue what was the cause of Satoru’s happiness. Is it because he’ll be free of Suguru? It made sense if so. Suguru was a blight on Satoru’s future. He was horrible and selfish. Bad all around. Someone like him didn’t deserve to be around someone as perfect as-

 Satoru pressed his lips against his own. 

Oh . 

Before Satoru pulled away, Suguru melted into the kiss. Satoru let out a happy hum and wrapped his arms around Suguru’s neck. Neither of them cared about the sweat, blood, and dirt that covered the other. The kiss seemed to last for centuries despite being a few seconds. 

“That’s for staying.” Satoru whispered against Suguru’s lips. Both took in some much needed air, faces centimeters apart. “I’m not letting you leave.”

“I’ll hold you to it, Satoru.” He smiled into their next kiss, both of them suddenly insatiable now that they finally had a taste of the other. The months of loneliness and longing were over. Suguru didn’t feel lost anymore. He had Satoru and the others to help guide him down a new path. It would be a slow process, but Suguru wouldn’t be alone for a second of it. 

As their kisses got deeper, Suguru felt a hole within his soul, a hole he didn’t even realize he had, fill. He felt complete. 

The taste of a curse was vile. Curses taste like a rag used to clean up shit and vomit. He was the only person who knew the taste, calling it disgusting would be a massive understatement. No other sorcerer had the misfortune of knowing what a curse tastes like. Suguru had to be trained from a young age to swallow the putrid monsters. Overtime, he’s gotten used to the taste, but it was still as unpleasant as ever. 

The taste of Satoru couldn’t be more different.

Kissing Satoru was now Suguru’s favorite thing in the world. He tasted like mint, which made sense considering Satoru was always cold to the touch, and sugar, likely caused by Satoru’s infamous sweet tooth. Minty and sweet. It was Suguru’s new favorite flavor, and he was content if that’s the only thing he tastes for the rest of his life. 

When they finally separated, Satoru placed his head in the crook of Suguru’s neck, the white-haired teen’s favorite spot. Suguru could feel Satoru smiling against his neck. “Heh. You like me~”

“Maybe a little.” Suguru smiled in turn. 

“So are we boyfriends now? ‘Cause I will kick your ass if you friendzone me.” 

A warmth Suguru had never felt before bloomed in his chest. “If that’s what you want, then I’d be happy to start courting you.”

“Pfft. Courting? What is this, the eighteen-hundreds?” Satoru teased. It felt so familiar that Suguru couldn’t help but hold Satoru even closer. The other wiggled until his lanky body was fully seated in Suguru’s lap. “I think we should call ourselves something.”

“Do you not like the term boyfriend? We can label ourselves as partners or something else you’re more comfortable with if that’s the case. I can’t think of the terms beside partner or lover, but I’m sure there are others we can look into.”

“Nah. All those sound fine actually. We can be all of the above, including being best friends because no one is allowed to take that spot. Though, you wanna know what I would love you to use to refer to our awesome new relationship?”

“What? Dumbass and Smartass?”

“The Strongest.” 

Suguru felt the warmth in his chest bloom once more. Tears pricked at his eyes, but his smile was so wide his cheeks hurt. “You sure you want to share that title again?”

“Mhm~ It’s lonely at the top, ya’know? You’re the only other person who understands me and can actually stand besides me as an equal. You deserve the title. I won’t let anyone take it away from you.” Satoru felt his eyelids grow heavier and heavier. “I think I’m going to pass out at this point, so gimme a goodnight kiss.”

“We’ve been together officially for like ten minutes and you’re already that needy?”

“You love it though~”

“Yeah, I do.” Suguru kissed Satoru, fully intending on spoiling the other for the rest of time. A tiny hum came from Satoru as their lips met for the umpteenth time. Said happy hum that Satoru makes when kissed was now one of Suguru’s favorite sounds. 

“OH MY GOD.” 

Suguru jolted and parted from Satoru, adrenaline coursing through his veins. It seemed like Satoru’s warning of passing out wasn’t a joke, he was unconscious and didn’t react whatsoever to the loud noise. He looked towards the person who yelled and suddenly wanted to curl up and die. 

It was Shoko and Yaga. 

“When I told you to do magic, true love gay shit, I didn’t mean it literally!” Shoko crossed her arms with a huff. “So kissing sleeping beauty was what broke the spell, Mr. Loverboy?”

“Shoko, I am going to strangle you.” 

“With what arms?”

“...”

The girl cackled at Suguru’s lack of response. She went towards him and knelt by his side. Her demeanor turned softer. “He’s okay, right?”

Suguru nodded. “Yeah. He hasn’t eaten or slept in days, so his body probably had enough and forced him to rest.” 

“Good. He’ll need to take it easy for a while. His cursed energy is all over the place from the lack of food and sleep. Him hallucinating probably contributed to that too.” Shoko looked around the burning forest and whistled. Behind her, Yaga was commanding his army of cursed corpses to put out the fire, swearing like a sailor. “You two sure did a number on the forest. It’s going to take a while for it to grow back…And put it out. Got a firefighter curse?”

“...I actually do.” He ignored her laughs to summon a giant elephant curse. It had several trunks and stood on two dinosaur-like legs. Suguru had found it near an abandoned water canal, emptied out after several people drowned in one night. The curse had been apparently killing any person, mostly delinquents, who tried to explore the canal. He commanded the curse to spray geysers of water over the forest. Each trunk helped extinguish the flames even faster. 

Once the fire was fully extinguished, Yaga made his way to Suguru. He crossed his arms and glowered at them through his sunglasses. 

“You and Satoru will replant the forest as much as you can after you both are recuperated.”

“Anything else, sensei?”

“You and Satoru will have detention for a month.”

“WHAT?!

“HAH! HAVE FUN IN DETENTION, LOSER!”

“SHUT THE HELL UP, SHOKO!”

“You kids will be the death of me…”

.

.

.

TWO YEARS LATER

.

.

.

“Oi, Suguru!”

“Hm?”

“Have you seen Gumi? We’re playing hide and seek and I can’t find him for the life of me!”

“Nope!” The giggling head of spiky hair proved otherwise, but Suguru said nothing. Nanako and Mimiko, the girls Yaga found in a village two years ago, were brushing and braiding his hair as he lounged on a chair by the pool. His girls wouldn’t be here without Principal Yaga, who he now held a deep appreciation for. Back then, with Suguru, Nanami, and Satoru barred from doing missions until they recovered, Yaga had taken on the brunt of missions for them. When he came back one day with two, terrified girls, Suguru took it upon himself to take care of them, considering that Satoru had his hands full with Megumi and Tsumiki. It had taken a very long time for the girls to trust someone other than Suguru, but they had shown tremendous progress. While they were wary of all adults, the girls had warmed up to Satoru’s kids fairly quickly. The four of them bonded over having idiots adopt them, gossiping about how Suguru couldn’t cook to save his life or how Satoru couldn’t read them bedtime stories without laughing or pointing out the plot holes. According to Megumi, who was the youngest yet had the most… creative insults, Satoru and Suguru were ‘dumber than rocks because they can’t figure out how to make pancakes and I bet rocks can figure it out if they were alive and had hands, and rocks look cool while they look like old people’.

The kids were terrors, but Suguru and Satoru adored them nonetheless. Currently, they were at a beach house that Satoru had bought on a whim one day. It was grand and luxurious, but with too many hiding places for someone as adept at hiding as Megumi. He took hide-and-seek far too seriously, but it was worth it to see the smile on his normally grumpy face. Tsumiki was on his lap, painting Suguru’s nails a bright blue color, and he had no intentions of taking it off afterwards. 

“You sound suspicious…” Satoru placed a hand on his hip.

“Whatever do you mean, Satoru? I’m just relaxing with the girls.” Suguru replied with a mischievous smirk. “How long have you been searching?”

“Two hours and thirty one minutes.” 

Suguru barked out a laugh from Satoru’s dead-serious tone. He could see the beginnings of genuine anxiety form in Satoru, so he decided to give him a break. “That’s such a shame. I was planning on ordering from that place that sells ginger chicken meatball hotpot. I guess we’ll have to try cooking something her-”

“NO!” Megumi popped his head underneath Suguru’s lounge chair. “Get the ginger!”

Satoru never fully recovered from the cursed soul’s psychic attack. His nerves were always in a state of being shot and frazzled. While Satoru’s personality was still intact, he was much more prone to act irritable and impulsive. He was also forgetful over the simplest of things and would meltdown if someone didn’t help remind him. Suguru would need to talk with Megumi about perhaps easing up when it came to hide-and-seek, considering how disheveled Satoru looked. With a relieved sigh, Satoru walked over and plucked Megumi from his hiding spot. For once, Megumi didn’t try to kick Satoru, letting himself be held. Suguru guessed it was due to how perceptive the little boy was. He likely noticed how stressed out and panicked Satoru was. Visibly relaxing with Megumi in his arms, Satoru finally noticed the makeover the girls were giving Suguru. 

“Lookin’ good, Suguru!”

“Of course I look good. I have the best stylists in Japan.” Suguru replied easily. He felt his heart warm when he saw the proud smiles on Nanako and Mimiko’s faces. Tsumiki also shone like the sun with her grin, but she refused to take her focus away from Suguru’s nails. 

“Maybe I can get an appointment-”

Before Satoru could finish his sentence, he snapped his head to the sky and placed Megumi on the ground. “Get inside. Now. Stay in your rooms and don’t come out until one of us says so.”  His tone left no room for arguments or questions. Tsumiki, the eldest of the group, took Megumi’s hand and nodded at Satoru. She helped the twins to the house, giving the two a thumbs-up of reassurance. 

Suguru stood up from his chair, trying to see whatever Satoru was seeing. “What’s going on-”

Once again they were interrupted. 

An arrow the size of a person appeared from the sky. Satoru had activated his Infinity, preventing the arrow from falling. With far better control of his technique. Satoru carefully lowered the arrow until it was floating in his palm. When his Six-Eyes detected no hidden threats, Satoru allowed the arrow to make contact with his hand.

“What the hell is that?” Suguru stared at the object in awe. It was made entirely out of metal, covered in intricate carvings that looked to be handmade. 

There was a note attached. 

Satoru and Suguru glanced at each other. The arrow wasn’t to harm anyone, but send a message. It was quite the unorthodox way to do so. Satoru placed the arrow on the chair Suguru had been relaxing in. The note attached looked to be taken from an ancient scroll. It wasn’t made of paper but papyrus, a material that hadn’t been used in centuries.

The message itself was the oddest of all. 

GOJO SATORU AND GETOU SUGURU,

I AM SURE YOU REMEMBER OUR BRIEF MEETING IN SENDAI. OR HAVE AT LEAST HEARD OF MY REAPPEARANCE. REST ASSURED, I DO NOT ATTEND ON ATTACKING YOU SORCERERS, HOWEVER ANNOYING YOU CAN BE. 

THIS LETTER IS A SUMMONS OF SORTS. REFUSE TO COME, AND I WILL TAKE THAT AS A BLATANT INSULT. I’M NOT ASKING, BUT COMMANDING IT. THERE IS DISCUSSION TO BE HELD ABOUT A THREAT THAT IS ON THE HORIZON. WE HAVE A MUTUAL INTEREST IN PROTECTING WHAT IS OURS, SO I HOPE YOU CAN SEE HOW SERIOUS THE SITUATION IS. THE THREAT GROWS BY THE DAY AND I MUST ADMIT THAT MY MIGHT ALONE IS NOT ENOUGH. I AM NOT INTERESTED IN BATTLING OR GOING TO WAR. MY RESURRECTION WAS HIDDEN BECAUSE I DESIRED IT TO BE SO. MY DESIRE TO FIGHT HAS EBBED. I AM WILLING TO FORM A TRUCE OF SORTS. HOWEVER, MY MERCY WILL ONLY GO SO FAR. DO NOT CROSS ME AND I WILL NOT CROSS YOU. 

IN EIGHT YEARS TIME, A CURSE USER AND THEIR ENTOURAGE OF SPECIAL GRADE DISASTER CURSES WILL ARRIVE. THERE ARE DETAILS I WILL NOT DIVULGE IN. THERE IS RISK TO REVEALING SUCH INFORMATION, AND I WOULD BE A FOOL TO DESCRIBE EVERYTHING ALL AT ONCE. 

I WILL WAIT FOR ONE FORTNIGHT. COME WHEN THE SUN HAS FRESHLY RISEN. FAIL TO ARRIVE AFTER THIS TIME, AND I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN MYSELF. I ALSO EXPECT YOU NOT TO INFORM YOU PATHETIC ELDERS ABOUT THIS. THE ONLY OTHER PEOPLE I WILL ALLOW TO COME IS KENTO NANAMI AND IERI SHOKO. ANYONE ELSE WILL BE KILLED ON SIGHT. THIS IS YOUR ONLY WARNING. 

BELOW ARE THE DIRECTIONS TO THE MEETING SITE. 

DO NOT DISAPPOINT ME. 

“Sukuna wrote us a letter.” Suguru whispered. The memories of his third-year of high school came flooding back in. “Do you truly believe it's just a summons and not a hidden murder attempt?”

“No. He’s telling the truth.” Satoru said with such certainty that it caught Suguru off guard. He gripped the note in his hand, scanning the directions Sukuna had left. They were vague, but Satoru was familiar with the shrine Sukuna had mentioned. “We’ll have to ask Nanami or something to babysit for a day. I’ll request a day off for the both of us-”

“You are seriously considering going?”

“Duh. What? Are you scared~” 

“As if. Let’s meet the asshole.” 

“There’s nothing to worry about! Sukuna sounds like he retired from being a genocidal maniac. And we’re the strongest so he doesn’t stand a chance against us.”

“Yeah. We are the strongest.”

“Always will be.”

Something to consider:

Viren’s ex-wife comes back during later seasons and sees the true monster that Viren has become. She’ll what he has done to Claudia and Soren and himself. Who knows, we might see Lord Viagra break.

@dragonprinceofficial

Cursed Guardians (A JJK Fic)

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There was something truly comforting in a well-made dessert. It was easy to tell that there was clear effort put into the sweet treat. Skill too. Experienced bakers could create the most delicious of  foods with the simplest of ingredients. They can make any dessert look beautiful as well, so beautiful it hurts when you have to take a bite. Candy was not as much of a labor of love, but it brought memories of happier times with its burst of sugary flavors. Additionally, it was a great way to get a quick energy boost when your curse technique burns through energy like a steam train. All in all, sweets had never been associated with anything negative. 

So why…

“Why am I crying?” Satoru spoke with his mouth full of the pastry he just bit into.

He had never been a person with manners. No matter how many times his clan elders or Yaga or even Suguru reprimanded him for his total lack of respect and etiquette, Satoru remained the least polite person on the planet. His tears streamed down his face, causing the teen to taste a slight saltiness when his tears reached his mouth. 

“Beats me. I only teared up when I tasted it for the first time.”  A man in a blindfold with stark white hair replied as he leaned back in his chair with a grin. He was dressed in a black shirt and white pants. The outfit’s resemblance to the man who had nearly killed Satoru had made the younger boy shiver. When the elder explained why he wore the ensemble, all of Satoru’s worries were mostly put at ease. He was a tall man that made Satoru feel like a toddler in comparison. Scars littered every inch of pale skin visible. It looked like the older one had been put through some shredding machine and lived. Despite his scarred skin, the man didn’t seem to be in any pain as he stretched his broad arms over his head. “You’re just a cry baby.”

Quick to forget the sadness Satoru was feeling, he dropped his fork to slam his hands on the small table. “I am not, old man!”

“Hey! I am not old!”

“Says the man with gray hair.”

“We have the same hair color, kid.”

“Nope. Mine’s more of a snow-white. Your’s is definitely much duller ‘cause you’re old.”

“...I think I finally understand Yaga now.” 

“Because you’re both old?”

A lollipop was thrown at Satoru’s face, no Infinity to prevent it from touching. However, the teen didn’t care. It felt nice to be a normal teen with normal teenager capabilities. Even if temporarily, the perpetual weight on Satoru’s shoulders was lifted, and he relaxed further into his own chair. Wiping his eyes with his hand and placing his fork down, Satoru picked up the fallen lollipop and began unwrapping it, only to find that the candy had been broken from the throw. He frowned. “You’re a dick.”

“That makes you one too, little shit.” 

Gojo Satoru looked at his apparent alternate self with a raised brow. It was hard to believe the man considering he had been a monstrous entity who had terrified Satoru hours ago. Well, it felt like hours had passed, but Satoru had no idea as to how much time had passed in the real world. One moment he was fighting for his life and the next he was at a bakery eating with a man who shared too many similarities with him. While the reprieve from battle was appreciated, Satoru knew that Nanami was still missing and Suguru was likely panicking with him out of commission. When he had first appeared in this strange mindscape, Satoru was horrified to find that all his powers were gone. Even his Six Eyes had disappeared. Before he could panic, the man currently eating with him had popped out of nowhere. 

“Kid, I know this is really confusing for you, but I need you to listen to me.”

“I can’t let you leave until I’ve shown you what you needed to see.”

“There’s no need to be scared, little me, you’re with the strongest sorcerer in the world! Gojo Satoru, the original! Just call me Infinite, ‘kay?”

It was quite difficult to believe that Infinite was not who he said he was, but Satoru knew better than to trust anyone’s word besides his own…Or maybe Suguru’s and Shoko’s. Whatever. No one else’s opinion mattered to Satoru. However, this older version of him was hard to ignore. Especially since the man had taken Satoru on a tour of the best bakery he had ever seen. Infinite had shown the teenager this place, which somehow served all of Satoru’s favorite treats. Even the more obscure desserts that Satoru had tried on a whim and loved. For example, the manifested bakery served the strange crunchy, fluffy thing that was covered in powdered sugar that Satoru had tried in a sketchy convenience store a while ago. He did not even know what the treat was, but it appeared in the strange bakery all the same. No one knew about Satoru’s more random sugary finds. Listening to Satoru’s rants about regular desserts was more than enough, so nobody wanted to learn about Satoru’s odder adventures in satiating his infamous sweet tooth.

The evidence was on Infinite’s side, but Satoru was nothing if not stubborn. 

Not having his Six Eyes was the main reason as to why Satoru was so hesitant to trust the man. If he had his ability to see the unseeable, Satoru would not have had this many doubts. However, the pastry that Infinite had just given him only proved he was telling the truth even more.

On the outside, the pastry did not look like the perfectly constructed desserts Satoru was used to buying. It was a simple apple pie that had definitely seen better days. The crust was golden brown, but it was quite uneven and lumpy. An attempt at a lattice was on top, asymmetrical and torn in some areas. Despite how rough it looked, the taste of the pie itself could only be described as comforting.  The pie was warm like it was just taken out of the oven and was stolen before it could completely cool because someone had gotten tired of waiting. Besides the literal warmth of the pastry, the delicious taste made Satoru delightfully warm inside. It was cheesy to say, but the boy didn’t care. Saturu was someone that could not emit heat of his own. His peers always joked that he could make a snowman shiver or freeze water if he touched it. No matter what he did, his coldness never went away. People would flinch when his cold hands touched them suddenly. He couldn’t provide the comfort his friends gave him. Compared to Satoru, Suguru was a living heater with his constant heat. Whenever Suguru embraced him, Satoru melted into his hold. Satoru could never do the same for his best friend. Or anyone. 

But he was warm right now. 

The gooeyness of the apple filling caused memories of gentle touches and lullabies to appear. All the spices and sugars mixed wonderfully to produce a taste so comforting that tears spilled from Satoru’s eyes the moment he tried it. While the crust and lattice were not pleasing on the eyes, its buttery flavor made all the tension in Satoru’s body dissipate. 

There was an additional element to this pie, however. It was delicious and comforting and so warm…yet there was a sadness that permeated each tiny crumb.

“I’m sorry that you can taste his feelings in the pie. I know he would have hated that, but this place is made of my memories, so I can’t change it.” Infinite sighed and placed his chin on one of his palms. There was an untouched slice in front of the older man with steam gently rising from the fresh pastry. 

“He?” Satoru let his surprise show. He did not have his glasses either to shield his expressive eyes, so the teen had all of his reactions on full display.

“Yup. He. I know that Yuna-san had made it for us when we were children, but someone very dear to me tried to replicate it.” A raspiness made its way into Infinite’s voice, revealing how difficult it was for him to talk about this cherished person. The elder cleared his throat and offered a soft smile. “I told him about it one day, but I was surprised that he remembered it…It tasted just like her’s.” 

“Yuna-san…” Satoru whispered.

 The woman had been his primary caretaker after his parents died. He had been too little to remember the short time his father had been with him before sickness took him. Yuna was part of the staff that specialized in caring for Satoru’s needs as a young boy. The others treated it like a box to be checked, but Yuna treated Satoru with so much love that he had genuinely thought she was his mother. After a harsh scolding from an elder, Satoru stopped trying to call her ‘Mama’ or ‘Kaa-san’ entirely. Still, he adored Yuna and was uncooperative to anyone that was not her. It got to the point that Satoru refused to listen to his tutors during lessons, his martial arts teachers during training, and especially his instructors meant to teach him about everything surrounding jujutsu sorcery. All because they were not the only maternal figure Satoru ever had. Evidently, the elders were not pleased with the little boy’s worsening rebellious behavior and presented the child with an ultimatum. Either he obeyed and behaved like a respectable person or they would never let Satoru see Yuna again. As any five-year-old would when told such upsetting information, Satoru had a complete meltdown and sobbed for his favorite caretaker. Despite the child’s heartbroken wails, the elders treated it like a tantrum from a spoiled brat. They had simply dragged the crying child to his room and ordered that he could not leave until he apologized for his horrid behavior. Unbeknownst to Satoru, the elders had also commanded that all staff, including Yuna, were not allowed to enter Satoru’s room for the rest of the day. If they went into his room, then the elders would see it as treason and offer a punishment fitting for such a crime against the clan. Without anyone to comfort him, Satoru cried and cried and cried until he ran out of tears. He nearly made himself pass out when his sobbing grew into hyperventilating. He wailed for Yuna over and over again, becoming more upset the longer that he was left alone. 

At some point, Satoru had fallen asleep on the floor and woke up to see that it was night. The child felt sick to his stomach, dizzy, thirsty, and very hungry. His dried tears and snot were uncomfortable on his face and his head pounded from his breakdown. Satoru tried calling for Yuna one last time and started to cry all over again when she didn’t show up. Before his sobbing could transition into ear piercing wails, a gentle knock stopped him. Yuna had finally appeared with a soothing smile on her face. At the time, Satoru was too young to notice the fear and despair hidden in the woman’s dark brown eyes. All he knew was that she hadn’t abandoned him and immediately ran to hug her legs tightly. Her warmth washed over Satoru’s body as her gentle voice chided him to be more careful. Yuna gently pried Satoru off and revealed the steaming pie she had in her gloved hands. She had two objects in a pocket in her still messy apron. With his focus on the dessert, Satoru stopped crying and smiled widely with his stomach rumbling. He tugged on her apron, and Yuna let out a warm laugh as she sat down. She took off her apron and placed the pie on top of it, taking off her oven mitts to take out a fork and a water bottle she had swiped. Unsurprisingly, Satoru clambered into her lap and begged for his dessert. When the child usually did this, Yuna would remind Satoru that he needs to eat properly. However, she allowed him to sit in her lap, knowing how horrible Satoru’s day was…and how it was her last day with the energetic boy. In her soothing voice, she spoke of how this dessert was from America and that it was her favorite guilty pleasure growing up. The pie itself was gorgeous with its perfect crust and braided lattice. She told Satoru that she wanted to apologize for being so late and that she wanted him to eat however he wanted tonight. Satoru, too happy to be with his caretaker, did not see Yuna’s watery eyes and quivering lips. He agreed and stabbed his fork into the pie unceremoniously, scooping it into his mouth. When he asked if Yuna was going to eat, she shook her head and said this was all for him. It was delicious and made Satoru forget the trauma he had experienced at the callus hands of the elders. The rest of the night, Yuna told stories that made Satoru giggle and sung lullabies until Satoru fell asleep. 

When Satoru would wake up, Yuna was gone. 

Forever. 

Satoru bit his lip to stop it from quivering. He never spoke of his clan for a reason. His disrespect towards the elders and other clan members was very intentional. When Yuna disappeared, Satoru got quieter. At first glance, it seemed like an improvement to the others. They would be proven wrong as Satoru would spend the rest of his childhood being angry and aggressive towards everyone. In fact, the young boy ran away often, ignoring any attempts at punishment with a scowl. When the elders tried threatening him after his twelveth time running away, Satoru threatened them back and told them how they had no right to boss him around. The preteen spoke about how he would kill them without remorse if they tried reprimanding him again. He said how he would make their deaths as slow and painful as possible because that’s what ‘old, useless geezers like you deserve’. With his piercing, murderous gaze, Satoru successfully managed to terrify the elders enough that they left him alone.

He had gotten used to being alone. 

After Yuna’s death, the members and staff of the Gojo clan feared Satoru, and Satoru never bothered to change their perception of him. In fact, he threatened them often growing up as his strength grew exponentially by the day. The disconnect that formed between Satoru and any other human being made befriending others impossible. Satoru had to treat the world around him as if it was more fragile than glass. A simple high five from him could break someone’s wrist if Satoru was not careful. It was not worth the effort in Satoru’s opinion to restrict himself at all times if he wanted to play with weaklings. Though, labeling others as weaklings was his immature way of dealing with his lack of friends growing up. In actuality, an aching loneliness permeated every waking moment of his childhood, something Satoru hid with a cheeky smile and even worse personality. Spending most of his time by himself caused Satoru to become an arrogant egomaniac. Who wouldn’t? No one had the power he had. No one could best him in a fight. He was leaps and bounds above his own teachers and sorcerers.

 Everything changed when he met Suguru for the first time. As a fellow special grade, Suguru understood Satoru on a level no one else did. He, Suguru, and Shoko were the only first-years and would become quick friends from spending every single day together. Suguru and Shoko spoke to him like a person, not a god to be feared and revered. It did wonders in weakening the god-complex Saturu had begun forming. He had been truly happy with his friends. 

Then there was Riko’s death by Toji’s bullet. 

Then there was Toji nearly killing Satoru and Suguru.

Then there was the devastating loss of Haibara. 

And Satoru had been alone again. 

Shoko had become buried in her studies in medicine and healing, so she never had time to do anything anymore. Any time spent with her was short and silent as Shoko smoked countless cigarettes or fell asleep mid-conversation. The following months after the failed Star Plasma mission were a blur for Satoru as he spent many sleepless nights mastering his techniques and being sent on endless missions. He lost count of the amount of nightmares Satoru had. He would wake up screaming more often than not, but nobody came to comfort him. In the past, Suguru would break down Satoru’s door the second the black-haired teen suspected something was wrong. This time, Suguru never came. Suguru rarely spoke after the incident, no matter how hard Satoru tried. It was like talking to a wall. Any words Suguru did say were quiet and empty, nothing like his usual lively and smooth voice. When Haibara died, Nanami had locked himself in his room for days and refused to interact with anyone outside of missions. It was a loss that hit the group hard. Satoru, Shoko, Suguru, Nanami, and Haibara had been a tight-knit group for a long time. Despite this, they spent no time grieving together. Satoru would try to go to Suguru when the grief got too great, but the other was somehow even more unresponsive than before. At that point, Satoru gave up. The higher-ups sent Satoru on more missions with the loss of Haibara and Nanami being ‘unavailable’. Words were not enough to describe the agony that Satoru had felt when he was no longer allowed to be sent on missions with Suguru. He had noticed the decline of his best friend first-hand. Suguru never smiled anymore and his usual neat hair grew tangled and greasy. Even with the presence of his remaining friends, the loneliness that Satoru had thought he had forgotten about crept up behind him like a spider about to entangle its prey. 

“Makes you think a lot, huh?” Infinite’s voice broke Satoru out of his whirlwind of thoughts and memories. For a moment, Satoru had genuinely forgotten about what he was doing. With a knowing smile, the scarred man stood up and pointed to the endless land before them. “Now that I’ve let you reminisce for a bit, it’s my turn to walk down memory lane. Come on, I’m on a time limit here.”

Satoru could barely mumble a response before Infinite warped them to an unfamiliar house. It looked like it was straight from a magazine. While decorated, the place held no sense of warmth or coziness. Based on the pristine state of the white couch, carpet, marble, everything , it was obviously not lived in. Infinite towered over Satoru, a feat most could not accomplish with Satoru’s own lengthy limbs, lips pressed into a thin line. Infinite gestured his head to the side that led to the kitchen, expecting Satoru to follow without a word. Which he did. There was a heaviness in the atmosphere that was preventing the chatty teen from saying anything. Once they reached the kitchen, the reason for the heaviness was apparent.

A boy with pink hair was sobbing next to an open oven. He was curled up in a fetal position, his legs being hugged tight by trembling arms while his face was buried into his knees. Still without his six-eyes, Satoru could not pinpoint the nature of the crying boy or the place he was in. Based on Infinite’s earlier words and the blurred edges of the house, this was a memory of his older doppelganger. However, the painful sobs of the boy made any attempts at analysis halt in Satoru’s mind. Upon getting a closer look, Satoru saw the broken remains of an apple pie on the floor. The pan was metal so it was not broken, but the pie itself was damaged. The identity of the ‘he’ Infinite had mentioned earlier clicked. Satoru could see why Infinite had sounded so pained when speaking about the boy. Even Satoru was feeling an ache in his chest as the boy continued to sob uncontrollably. He was younger than Satoru, which made the ache even worse. The warmth of the open oven was overshadowed by the sheer devastation the pink-haired boy was emitting. At first glance, it could be seen as silly for someone to be so broken over dropping a pie. However, Satoru knew better than to assume the boy was crying for that one reason.

Footsteps from behind Infinite and Satoru alerted them of another presence. Infinite was stone-faced with his fists clenched tightly. Glitches seemed to occur in Infinite’s body, reminding Satoru of a faulty video game. However, the new arrival prevented any further questioning. A man that looked exactly like an unscarred Infinite ran into the kitchen. The crying boy did not react to the man’s gentle nudges at all. 

“ Yuuji-kun, what’s wrong? We’ve been looking for you all day, and you haven’t responded to anyone’s calls or texts. ” After closing the oven door, the man knelt down in front of the boy, carefully taking the boy’s trembling hands into his own. He kept his movements slow and gentle, treating the younger like a spooked animal. A soft sigh escaped the man as the boy’s cries continued. Eyes identical to Satoru’s own held a mixture of grief, pain, and anger. It was a look that Satoru had had when he had learned of Haibara’s death. Clearly, this boy meant a lot to Satoru’s second look-alike for the man to have such a reaction. Without hesitation, the man embraced the shaking boy, hands soothing over his back. “ We were so worried, Yuuji-kun. You know how dangerous it is to travel alone with Sukuna and Kenjaku out there .”

The name of the most feared entity in the world caused Satoru to jolt. Sukuna was supposed to be a thing of the past, no chance of him ever appearing in the future. Satoru glanced at Infinite again, but could gather nothing from Infinite’s expression. The glitches, however, had gotten more frequent. Satoru ignored the unease in his gut to observe the two on the floor. Besides sharing the same eyes and hair, the man held a similar cadence to Satoru’s voice. It was deeper, but all the other tells were the same. He simply sounded and looked like an older Satoru. On the other hand, Infinite looked more like a broken copy of Gojo Satoru. 

Satoru decided to call the man hugging the pink-haired boy Gojo. Infinite had his own name, and no version of Satoru would be left nameless! Additionally, he hated being called Gojo as it made him feel old. Thus, making the name choice perfect for this older version of him! Said version was speaking quietly to the boy, continuing to rub the poor child’s back. Eventually, the sobs turned into sniffles, and Gojo leaned back. Yuuji, which is what Gojo seemed to call him, was reluctant to let go. Gojo held the boy’s hands again to supplement the absence of his hug. As his thumb soothed over smaller ones, Satoru noticed how Yuuji’s hands were covered in scars. The skin of his knuckles was worn and bore heavy scarring. What caught Satoru off guard was the missing pinky on his left hand. Based on the gruesome scars left behind, it was likely that the appendage had been ripped off.

With a worsening feeling of dread building within him, Satoru had no choice but to watch the broken exchanges between Gojo and this ‘Yuuji-kun’ he cared so much about. The words they spoke to each other in comfort had the complete opposite effect on Satoru. Mentions of Sukuna, Megumi, someone named Kenjaku, something happening in Shibuya, the ominous Culling Games, the date December Twenty-Fourth, and so much more that Saturu did not understand. He felt especially sick at the talk about saving Megumi, the little boy Satoru had unofficially adopted last year, from Sukuna’s grasp. Countless apologies flooded from Yuuji’s lips, which were met with gentle reassurances from Gojo. From what Satoru had heard, Gojo was Yuuji’s teacher. It seemed ridiculous to imagine himself as a teacher, but Gojo acted like helping his distressed student was as easy as breathing. The clear adoration and trust Yuuji exhibited for his teacher only disproved Satoru’s doubts. 

“Is that why you ran off to this safehouse? To make this for me?”

“...Yeah. Your fight with Sukuna is tomorrow, Sensei, so I wanted to make the pie you told me about. Do something good… But I messed up…”

“Nonsense, Yuuji-kun! Your cooking has always been the best, and I bet your baking is just as good! The pie isn’t unsalvageable! The stuff is still in the pan, so let’s bake that stuff! We wouldn’t want it to go to waste!”

“But Sensei-”

“But nothing! We’re going to bake this pie, it’s gonna be delicious, and then we will go to eat dinner with the others, okay? Choso will probably refuse to let you go for the remainder of the day, but no one is actually mad at you. Everything is going to be alright, Yuuji-kun. Your Sensei will win, and this mess will finally be over. Does that sound good, Yuuji-kun?”

“Yeah…Yeah it does.”

Yuuji uncurled completely and lifted his head. Before Satoru could see any other features besides the boy’s golden-eyes, the surroundings around them disappeared into a void of black. All the dread that had been building up within Satoru reached its peak as he saw the glitching form of Infinite towering over him. His mask was still on, but Satoru could still feel the other’s gaze boring into him. 

“Do you finally believe me?” Infinite tilted his head like a curious bird. His arms were behind his back, further increasing Satoru’s unease. 

“Huh?” His sudden fear had clouded over Satoru’s more rational mind. He was frantically trying to remember what Infinite was talking about, but his chaotic thoughts offered no answers.

A giggle left Infinite. “Do you finally believe that I’m Gojo Satoru? I’ve made the effort to prove that I am telling the truth. I’ve shown you things that no other soul is supposed to know. I was generous enough to show you a memory of mine to prove that I’m not a mindless curse. It was even a memory that held information that will be useful to you in the future.” 

The question unsettled Satoru. It reminded the boy that the pleasant bakery Infinite had shown him and the memories Infinite had resurfaced and shown was not done out of kindness. Taking away his Six Eyes and Limitless technique was not done to give Satoru the reprieve he desperately needed. No. It was all done for Infinite’s benefit alone. He had been foolish to even entertain that such a monster could be his alternate self. His guard had been let down from the painful memories and nostalgic sweets. 

This was all an illusion conjured up by a twisted abomination. 

Nanami and Suguru still needed him. 

“No. I don’t believe you. You were pretty damn convincing, but it wasn’t enough!” Satoru readied his body for a fight, lifting his fists. His powers weren’t back, so Infinite had the advantage in a potential battle. Even so, Satoru was not going to let this monster continue to manipulate him any longer! “You’re not me!”

“Is that your final answer?”

“YES! You’re making me hallucinate because you’re a fucking monster!”

“Ugh. I knew you were going to be stubborn, but I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt. Sorry, kid. I don’t have the time to convince you any further, so we’re gonna do things my way.”

“Wh-”

In a blink, Infinite grabbed Satoru by the throat and lifted him into the air with one hand. His blindfold had vanished, revealing eyes that caused terror to surge through the teen. The grip on his throat was too strong for Satoru to escape from but not tight enough to suffocate. However, Satoru was only capable of extremely shallow and painful breaths, making his remaining strength dissipate. He had no choice but to stare at Infinite’s crazed face. Each glitch that appeared on Infinite’s body revealed the true nature of the creature slowly strangling him. The eyes of Gojo Satoru had always been his most well known feature. Seeing his eyes on this imposter was more unsettling than Satoru wanted to admit. While the striking color was the same, Infinite’s pupils were a cloudy white. It was the cloudiness that marked the end of a life. The eyes of a corpse. Not to mention, there were six of them. The main pair was staring at Satoru like a piece of meat. The upper pair of eyes were completely black while the lower pair was fully clouded over with blood leaking from them. Satoru tried to thrash around to escape, but the appearance of claws stopped him. This was it. This was the monster that had tormented Nanami and made Satoru feel weak for the first time. 

“I’ll make this quick. I am the cursed soul of Gojo Satoru, a sorcerer who perished in a world that no longer exists. It’s like resetting a computer. All the information is gone, so you gotta start all over again. Us cursed souls are like some random codes that stuck around. Make sense?” The squeeze to Satoru’s throat did not allow the teen to answer. Infinite’s hand did not budge even with the frantic clawing and thrashing from Satoru. “Codes can get corrupted, though. So corrupted that there is no resemblance to what they were prior to said corruption. That’s a cursed soul. We are what little remains of an erased world. We’re a sliver of a whole. So you can imagine that we’re not all there.” Infinite used his other hand to tap at the side of his head. His crazed expression grew into something dangerous as the grip on Satoru’s throat tightened so suddenly that Satoru’s vision went black for a moment. 

When the grip eased, Satoru felt tears prick at the corner of his eyes. Black spots were still in his vision, and his chest was in agony from the lack of oxygen. All of his struggles proved futile in Infinite’s iron grip. His words were swirling in Satoru’s head. While it was there, it wasn’t sinking in yet for him to form a coherent thought about it. Wheezes escaped Satoru’s lips and his hands tried to claw at Infinite for the umpteenth time. His lungs ached, yet his heart was pounding in his ears. Fear surged through Satoru as Infinite suddenly squeezed harder. His grip tightened and tightened and tightened until Satoru could feel his eyes bulge out of his head. The black spots grew, and the ache within his lungs turned into an inferno of pain. His body was screaming at the boy to take a breath, but Satoru’s windpipe was currently being crushed. Tears of pure terror flowed down Satoru’s throat. His mind was blaring alarm bells, telling Satoru that he would die if he did not take a breath. It hurt . Satoru’s chest spasmed with the desperate attempts at taking in a breath. He could not stop his body from trying to get air, causing indescribable agony for the poor boy. Fuck. He was going to die. He was going to die and there was nothing he could do about it this time. Suguru and Nanami still needed him! He couldn’t die! But his brain was fuzzy and his chest hurt too much to care. Satoru felt a wave of exhaustion hit him. His eyes were fluttering and his limbs had gone slack. 

Then Satoru was released.

Immediately, Satoru inhaled deeply to get as much air as possible. He held his throat as a coughing fit overwhelmed him. All his prior dignity was shattered as pitiful sobs shook Satoru’s lean frame. His resolve to defeat Infinite was gone. The mere thought of the other made Satoru scramble frantically to create distance. Infinite was staring at Satoru like the teen was an animal in a zoo exhibit. His body had grown long and spindly as Infinite slowly stalked towards Satoru’s retreating form. Even with his slow gait, Infinite reached Satoru once more. When he was close enough, Infinite crouched down and stared at Satoru, who had stopped trying to get away. 

“My bad. I lost myself for a bit there. This stable state doesn’t last that long, ya know? That’s why I’m in a bit of a rush.” Infinite grinned at the shaken teen. Sweat covered Satoru’s heaving form, caused by the fear and strain from being strangled. “I intended to show you everything slowly. Ease you into it. But convincing you to believe me took more time and effort than I thought, so you don’t have that luxury anymore.”

“Show me what.” Satoru spat with a raspy voice. 

“Everything I suppose.” Infinite sat down with his legs crossed. Though, it looked more like a snake coiling itself up to strike. “We’ve always been the strongest. It’s our burden to bear that cannot be shared with anyone. Afterall, we have something no one else has. Our Six-Eyes are much more powerful than you think. It transcends time. We can perceive something as long as we want and no time would have passed in the real world. Currently, seconds have only passed. Suguru has not realized what is going on. I’ve already shown Nanami what I need him to know and I will soon talk to Suguru. The aftermath of showing you three such things will be much more time consuming in reality than the act of speaking with you in the first place. Don’t worry though! Suguru and Nanami will be alright! I’m not as sure as to what will happen to you, though.”

The mentions of his friends caused Satoru to tense. Is that why Nanami suddenly disappeared? If Infinite had been aggressive and terrifying with Satoru, then who knows how unstable he would be with Suguru. What had Infinite shown Nanami? What information does Infinite need to show him? Satoru gritted his teeth. He was sick of Infinite’s vagueness. “If you’re in such a rush, just spit it out already! I have never been very patient with ugly pieces of shit!”

His nasty remark only elicited a laugh from Infinite. “Spicy! I forgot about how bratty I was as a teenager!” In seconds, Infinite’s jovial tone disappeared. His constantly switching moods were disorienting for Satoru, but he knew he was slightly similar in that regard. The air grew impossibly colder as Infinite stood and walked a good distance away. Despite his glitching form, Infinite had no problems with moving. His arms spread wide as the glitches took over his body. Where a man once stood, there was no the same beast that had terrorized Satoru. A shriek of laughter left the beak of the creature as Infinite crawled on all fours to the horrified teen. Somehow, his talons left gouges in the empty void as if he was walking on a real floor. Infinite’s tail spread out to the fullest, countless eyes staring at Satoru with the intensity of a thousand suns. 

All of Satoru’s limbs were paralyzed. Despite his desperate desire to run, Satoru could not make a single finger twitch. His body was not listening to his brain's frantic commands.

A distorted voice filled his ears, and Satoru felt his heart stop.

You’ve been a pain to deal with, kid. You’re lucky that I need you alive or else I would have killed you long ago. 

Listen. This world is a new, altered copy of an old one. What occurred in the old world we cursed souls are from cannot happen again. This is why I need to show you and your friends certain pieces of information. I’m sorry for attacking you. I’m not supposed to be able to speak or think this clearly in the first place. It’s a secret that you have to keep. My awareness is underestimated, and I’d like to keep it that way. So no telling. Especially Sukuna! 

And if you do tell, no one will believe you because I will revert back to a beast the moment I’m done speaking with you boys. This may be the last time I’ll ever get to be lucid again, so you better shut your trap and listen.

I know that you don’t deserve this, but I don’t have any other options. We’re the strongest in every world, kid. I was hoping that you would be able to live a more peaceful life than mine, but the world is a cruel place. Listen very carefully, okay? Sukuna has returned. His allegiances and goals are much more beneficial than before, so I highly suggest gaining his trust. You have the chance that I never did of having a better world, but you will need Sukuna’s help. A much greater evil will emerge, and you will lose without Sukuna. If he thinks for a second that you or the other sorcerers are a threat, then he will kill everyone. 

If you are going to listen to anything, listen to this. Sukuna’s sole purpose in life is to protect Itadori Yuuji. It’s my and the other cursed souls' purpose as well. We will not show mercy if Yuuji is harmed by any of you. That is a promise. Got it? Good. Moving on.

As an inheritor of the Six-Eyes and Limitless, your brain is capable of handling vast amounts of information without imploding in on itself. What I showed Nanami and will show Suguru is miniscule compared to what I am going to show you. 

You will receive twenty-nine years of information in the span of twenty-nine minutes. The memory I showed you earlier was real, and you will see many memories like it. I don’t care if you don’t believe me anymore. It’s your funeral if you don’t.

If you are idiotic enough to ignore everything I have said, then I will take matters into my own hands to ensure that Yuuji is safe and cared for. Trust me when I say that you do NOT want that to happen. You may be my alternate self, and I do want you to live a good life, but Yuuji’s happiness is my number one priority. 

Now, then. Are you ready?

“N-No…” Satoru gasped out. He wasn’t ready. He didn’t want to be ready. Ever . What Infinite had just told him was already frying Satoru’s brain. How the hell would he manage to handle over two decades of information?! Having the constant input of his Six Eyes was one thing, but such vast amounts of data, memories, and whatever else is too much! The past year has been so horrible already. He didn’t want to know anything that Infinite had to show him! So what if he’s the strongest?! He’s just a teenager! 

Are you scared?

The strangely gentle tone spooked Satoru. He still could not move, but he was able to grit his teeth in frustration. “I’m not! I don’t want to listen to your bullshit!”

It’s not bullshit. I know this year has been hard. I went through the same thing, only it got even worse. 

“You’re not me for fuck’s sake!” His angry shout sounded more like a choked sob. A quiet hum came from Infinite in response. Satoru’s head pounded from the stress while his lungs continued to ache fiercely. He hated him. He hated Infinite so much. “JUST SHUT UP ALREADY!”

Suguru was supposed to defect today. 

Satoru froze. 

This very night, Suguru was supposed to leave Jujutsu High in secret. He was supposed to leave on a train, get assigned a sudden mission to a village whilst on the train, go to the village, and slaughter every civilian in it. Over a hundred died by Suguru’s hand in a single night. This night. If I hadn’t intervened and caused trouble in Sendai, you would have never been sent on this mission with Nanami. Neither of you would have called Suguru. And Suguru would have done the same thing he did in my world. Because I intervened, Suguru is with you instead of that train. 

“Suguru was going to…” The teen trailed off before he could finish such a terrible sentence. His desire to defend his best friend was competing with the many worrying signs that Suguru was going down a dark path. Satoru had seen the emptiness within Suguru grow by the day. He noticed Suguru’s lack of scolding when Satoru would say something rude about non-sorcerers. He is aware that with Satoru and Suguru being assigned separate missions, Suguru has spent more time alone than ever before. He has heard Suguru mutter to himself time and time again when the black-haired boy thought he was alone. He remembers Yaga’s concerned eyes when Suguru stopped participating in class. He knew that Suguru had been distancing himself from everyone the day after collecting Riko’s corpse from the Children of the Star facility. Satoru’s denial was completely shattered with his last thought.

The few times that Suguru spoke, it was always about getting rid of the ‘monkeys’.

His mouth went dry at the realization that Infinite was trying to help Satoru. The person who benefited the most from Suguru’s presence is Satoru. Losing Suguru would be too devastating for Satoru to handle. If Infinite, this crazed monster, was telling the truth, then he had to experience the loss of his one and only today. 

It’s in the world’s best interest if Suguru does not become a curse user. You’ll need to stop him from such a fate. If you fail and Suguru commits to his plan of massacring all non-sorcerers, then you must do everything you can to keep him alive. His abilities are greatly sought after by an entity named Kenjaku. No matter what, Suguru cannot come under Kenjaku’s control. Kenjaku takes over the body of his victims by switching their brain with their victim’s body. They can mimic the behavior of their victim perfectly and they can copy the cursed technique and cursed energy of the body they inhabit as well. The only way that you can detect Kenjaku’s presence is a scar that appears on the forehead of whoever they’re possessing. The scar looks like stitches. 

If all else fails, kill Suguru and make sure to burn his body immediately. Don’t let your feelings get in the way. Having Suguru live is the best choice. I don’t want you to have to go through what I did, so please listen to what I have to say.

Tears burned behind Satoru’s eyes, but he refused to let them out. The images of his future self killing Suguru mercilessly invaded his mind. He didn’t want that to happen. 

He would make sure it never happens.

“I’m ready. Show me everything.” Satoru steeled himself for the influx of information. His mind was cycling through the names of the people Infinite had mentioned. Sukuna. Yuuji. Kenjaku. He repeated the names in his head to commit it to memory. “You said we’re the strongest, right? The strongest is supposed to protect the weak. Heh. That’s what Suguru used to tell me.”

And he would be right. Despite what he did in my world, my Suguru always had more sense than me. It’s likely that the overload I’m about to give you will cause a degree of brain damage. It won’t kill you, but it will have an effect on your sanity. Hell, you might be stuck in a mindless state for a few months. In my opinion, as a fellow Gojo Satoru, you’ll wake up in a couple days with some screws permanently loose. You’ll have Suguru to help you, so I see no future problems with your diminished sanity. Sound good?

Satoru let out a wet laugh. He pushed down all his worry and dread with a harsh swallow. The boy smiled widely with a cocky look in his eyes.  “Well, we’ve always been the strongest, not the sanest, right?” 

Right! Good attitude to have, kid. I know I’m making you sacrifice a lot and not giving you a choice to say no. You’re still so young. You should be enjoying your youth with your friends. 

“Yah don’t say.”

Let me finish brat. It’s likely that Kenjaku is going to be an even bigger threat than before. You’ll see why that’s super bad really soon. 

“Ooo! Lucky me!”

I deserve that, I’ll admit. Anyways! I’m sure that Kenjaku will take ten years to stir up trouble like they did before. You’ll have a decade to prepare. Take care of Megumi and keep an eye on Suguru and Nanami. I might even pop in for a visit during those years. Who knows? Maybe I’ll let you see Yuuji. 

“To be honest, I do want to meet the kid.” A much more genuine tone made its way into Satoru’s voice. 

As would anyone else! Now, I need you to remember not to tell anyone. Use these years to grow stronger and develop a bond with Yuuji. If Yuuji likes you, Sukuna and his vessel Ryomen will…tolerate…you. The higher-ups cannot know about any of this. They won’t believe you and will try to send you to the loony bin anyway. Just talk about it with Suguru and Nanami. Shoko and Yaga are trustworthy, so do as you wish with that. Utahime too. However, you cannot trust Mei Mei or Gakuganji. The old geezer is obvious as to why he’s trustworthy. I can’t remember how Mei Mei is at this age, but the Mei Mei I know only speaks in cash. Maybe try to change that? It’s not a priority but it’ll be a relief for your wallet!

“Huh. Thanks for the tip.”

You’re welcome. And, kid?

“Hm?” Satoru locked eyes with Infinite, who was now centimeters away from his face. The birdlike creature gave the boy a musical trill. The mask around his face disappeared and Satoru saw Infinite’s six eyes again. This time, they were clear, no cloudiness in sight. They each held immense relief and gratitude in them. Satoru took a deep breath, knowing that the banter was over. “So…You gonna do it?”

Infinite cooed in response, getting even closer. He was so close that Satoru could feel the white fur and colorful feathers tickling his chin. The scent of the beast was strange as well. It was like breathing during winter. The air was crisp but it made your nose feel cold. It was an even odder sensation to feel the beast’s fur when Infinite wrapped around Satoru. It was soft and dense with the occupational fluffiness of a feather. Additionally, the outer layer of Infinite’s white fur was cold, yet Satoru could feel the warmth of the bird’s core. It took Satoru a few moments to relax in Infinite’s grip, but he eventually caved in with the lack of attacks on Infinite’s end. It was like being hugged in all directions. Satoru could not help but think of the penguin documentary Megumi had forced him to watch two nights ago. He remembers how Megumi, who was normally grouchy and quiet, lit up as he explained how emperor penguins huddled together to preserve warmth during arctic storms. 

Satoru definitely felt like a penguin at that moment.

It was nice. 

The tip of Infinite’s sharp beak suddenly pressed against Satoru’s forehead. On instinct, the teen closed his eyes. His thoughts all came to a stop as Satoru solely focused on the warmth on his head. Of all things, Infinite’s beak was the warmest part of the bird’s body. It somehow made Satoru relax even more. Warmth was always good in his mind. Infinite spoke once more within the teen’s mind, his voice much more subdued than before. 

You will experience all my pain, all my anger, all my loss within moments.

It’s gonna be agonizing, but you’re strong. Stronger than anyone. 

You’ll be shattered, repaired, and shattered again. 

But you’ll come out stronger. Stronger than me. 

You may feel more alone than ever before after this.

But eventually…

You’ll be happy. So, so happy. I promise you that, kid.

No matter how tough it gets, just remember that everything will turn out amazing in the end. 

I know that you’re going to suffer, but I also know that you’re going to be loved. Megumi may not show it now, but he loves you so much, kid. Yuuji has barely been in this world, but I can already see the endless love he’s going to have for you. 

Suguru is going to love you if you give him the chance to.  Don’t miss that chance.

You’re a good kid. A real good one. Remember that, okay? 

Satoru’s Six-Eyes and Limitless technique immediately returned in full force. 

Everything turned into a blinding white. 

Your life will turn out so much happier and longer than mine could ever hope to be. 

__________

The first thought that went through Suguru’s head was simply: OW .

It felt like every inch of his body had been battered and bruised. Even the tips of his fingers ached. Normally, Suguru would try to sleep off any ailments that he had, refusing to go to Shoko more often than not. As a special grade sorcerer, Suguru was strong enough that most curses were not able to place a scratch on him. The only injuries he ever sustained on missions were the occasional bruise or cut. Sore muscles were not a new thing for Suguru, but the aching within him felt different than a strained muscle. 

All his energy had been sapped away. Suguru’s body desperately wanted to go back to bed, but his mind was too active and chaotic to allow him any opportunities to rest. Reluctantly, the teen opened his eyes with the grogginess of an elderly man. Once he managed to sit up, Suguru wiped the crust from the corners of his eyes and tugged on his cheeks to further wake up. After a few minutes, Suguru was awake enough to notice the strange room he was in. 

He was in the infirmary.

“I see you are awake, Getou-san.”

The quietness of Nanami’s voice caused a jolt of adrenaline to shoot through Suguru. He was startled, sure, but most of his shock came from how beaten Nanami was and the memories that came with his wounds. 

Nanami and Satoru’s terrified pleas. A shriek of laughter. Six monstrous entities. Eyes. Too many eyes. A baby. A bloody man with white hair. The existence of cursed s-

In an instant, Suguru jumped from his bed to kneel next to Nanami’s. His legs were too unstable to keep the older teen upright, so his short journey to the younger caused several things to crash. He grasped the white sheets of the infirmary bed tightly. His breathing turned heavy as he bored his tired eyes into Nanami’s surprised ones. Suguru analyzed every part of the blonde’s face. Once he was sure that Nanami was not a hallucination and was actually a living breathing person, he sat back on his heels with a sigh. 

Never one to beat around the bush, Nanami broke the silence quite bluntly. “You’ve been unconscious for nearly six days. Yaga-sensei and the higher ups are looking into the entities we encountered on our mission. There has also been a halt on all missions for the three of us until Yaga deems us fully recovered.” His left arm went to rub his injured right arm, which was currently in a sling. The hospital gown he was wearing did little to hide the countless bandages wrapped around the boy. There were more than a few burns across Nanami’s pale skin as well. When the younger noticed Suguru’s staring, he sighed like he had aged ten years. Nanami, someone who made sure to look everyone in the eye, was currently glancing anywhere but at Suguru. In fact, the underclassman was staring at the ceiling like it was the most interesting thing in the world. “Gojo-san is currently being held in one of Tengen-sama’s strongest cells. He woke up a day after I did and immediately tried to attack you. I tried to intervene, but he did not hesitate to attack me as well.” Nanami numbly gestured at his injuries. 

“Satoru attacked you?” Suguru felt like he was in an alternate dimension. The Satoru he knew would rather live without sweets than live in a world where he hurts the ones he cares about. Moreover, Satoru was disrespectful to the higher-ups, but he was smart enough to play along with their cowardly orders. He was strong enough to get away with his behavior, so to hear that his best friend was imprisoned did not sound real. What’s worse, Tengen’s barrier was being used to contain Satoru and Satoru alone. Those barriers were strong enough to keep all curses in Japan, preventing them from spreading into other countries. The fact that one of those barriers is now holding Satoru like a dog in a pound made white-hot anger flow through Suguru. 

“It was done to prevent Gojo-san from killing you.” As if sensing Suguru’s incoming rage, Nanami was quick to respond. Once more, the blonde sighed heavily, his exhaustion evident from the sickly paleness of his sin and the dark bags beneath his eyes. “We were all given hallucinations of some sort by the entity that resembled a draconic bird of prey. Shoko-san said that it’s likely that Gojo-san’s Six-Eyes caused him to experience a much worse hallucination than us, thus causing him to be in an altered state upon waking up.”

“That damn bird.” Suguru snarled beneath his breath. When he tried to remember what the shrieking menace had shown him, Suguru’s head immediately grew fuzzy. It was shocking to hear that Satoru had been restrained for Suguru’s sake, but that was not what was weighing on his mind. What concerned him most was Nanami’s mention of Satoru’s Six-Eyes causing his best friend to suffer intensely. No matter how hard either tried, Satoru could not explain his ability to Suguru and Suguru failed to understand the poor explanations Satoru provided. It was something that could not be put into words, something Suguru hated. To put it simply, Suguru liked knowing things. He refused to be left in the dark about anything, so he often went out of his way to gain any knowledge he lacked on a mission or lesson. This included going to forbidden areas to learn the stories Yaga was forced to omit during teachings. 

And Suguru knew just the place to get the knowledge he needed right now. 

“Shoko-san warned to not exit the infirmary without her permission.” Nanami said monotonously. Though, the boy did nothing to stop Suguru from shakily exiting the cramped room. 

“You got hurt. Satoru’s imprisoned and not acting like himself. I don’t need to know anything else.” While stern, Suguru made sure to keep any anger from his voice. His mind was still reeling, but time was of the essence. He could not afford to waste time being shocked or waiting for Shoko or Yaga to inform him on what happened. Satoru was still in that awful trance, and Suguru did not trust the higher-ups or the Gojo clan elders to not take advantage of his best friend. Every second wasted was a second added to the torture Satoru’s mind was going through. Despite his greasy hair and messy hospital gown, Suguru felt stronger than he has in months. He nodded reassuringly at Nanami. “You need to rest much more than me, Nanami-kun. I’ll take care of things from now on. I apologize for making you take on the work I was supposed to do, I have been weak for far too long. Thank you for carrying that extra burden, but it is now my turn to take it back.”

To anyone else, it would seem that Nanami had not reacted whatsoever to Suguru’s words. However, Suguru had known Nanami long enough that he knew all the tells of the stoic boy’s body. Nanami’s eyes, albeit slightly, had a watery tint to it. His right hand, the hand that Nanami used to carry his blade, twitched. It showed just how much Suguru’s words had meant to him. 

The edges of Nanami’s lips twitched up in a ghost of a smile. “Thank you, Getou-san. Though, to me,  your strength was not diminished in the least. It was simply redirected to something else.” Nanami returned Suguru’s nod. When the underclassman looked up, there was a knowing spark in his eyes. “Be careful with your studies.” 

“I will.” 

.

.

.

After stumbling into his room for proper clothes, Suguru found that there was a fresh uniform left for him on his bed. The suitcases he had packed prior were tucked into a corner, which nearly made Suguru pass out from panic. However, he quickly calmed down when he read the note attached to his uniform. 

If you’re reading this, then I assume you lost enough brain cells to go after Satoru despite being unconscious for several days. Dumbass. 

Here’s one of the uniforms you packed up. You better tell me about those suitcases or else I’ll cut off all your hair and burn it. I’m sure Satoru will help me hold you still. Dumbass. 

Satoru’s meant to be the idiot of the group, so do some magic true love gay shit to bring him back. I can’t handle more than one dumbass at a time. 

Good luck, lover boy.

-Shoko

Suguru had simply pocketed the note, ignoring how his face felt like it was about to burst into flames, and changed into his clean uniform. It was almost pitiful how eager Suguru had been to leave Jujutsu High and the Jujutsu world in general just days ago. Yet, his entire plans had been put to a screeching halt by a loud-mouthed white-haired boy he cared too much about. No one was stopping him from leaving. Hell, Suguru’s suitcases were still fully packed. It’d be easy.

But the thought of leaving now only caused bile to rise in Suguru’s throat.

With one last look at his suitcases and empty room, Suguru made his way to his destination with no further hesitation. 

The Catacombs of the Disgraced Ones

YES! SUPPORT ALL THE AO3 SILLY GUYS! I’VE FOUND SOME OF MY FAVORITE FICS OF ALL TIME BY JUST PAYING ATTENTION TO THE SUMMARY 🗣️🗣️🗣️

Another AO3 thing I’m curious about, how do yall decide if something is good enough to read? Usually I follow a rule of 1 kudos for every 10 hits. One because it’s easy math and two it’s yet to fail me. Thoughts? Do you just go for it and pray it’s good?