Premise: Yuji Itadori dies. Yuta Okkotsu does not succeed in bringing him back. He dies, and then wakes up one bright sunny day in school, surrounded by his senpai from the occult club. He is dazed and panicked. He is lost and alone, flailing about a cold, strange world. He dies again and wakes up again. In between dying and living, he finds the truth.

Chapter 3: A mouse brings reports of cats

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.

-S-

Rare are the times when his eyes miss encroaching tragedy. The few times it happens, the paradigm of his world shifts.

This, too, feels like one such shift.

He arrives late. Not by his own design, as usual, but because his eyes are blind to what he knows those infuriating elders will term a calamity-level curse. He is twitchy and on edge as he easily clears the boundary between the world and the budding domain expansion. And what is the first thing he sees? In that courtyard, under a pale, green moon, his beloved student is bleeding to death, cradled in the arms of a…

…

…

It's here that he falters. His teaching says one thing. His instincts say another. He takes off the binding around his face. This he has to see with both eyes wide open. The Rikugan open, fix themselves on the entity.

It's a curse. It's a boy. It's a cursed boy. Like Yuta Okkotsu, but also unlike him. The sheer depth and weight of the inter-laid and inter-woven curse that was put on this one is…

There's no word for it. It is breathtakingly beautiful, mind-bogglingly complex, and viscerally horrifying at once. Layers and layers. Obsession nurtured for decades… if not more. Love, and love, and love, and love, and love…. Magnified through the lens of pain, death, and regret.

There is no question that this … being… is much loved… and much cursed.

Such a thing. Normal jujutsu protocol demands its immediate execution. He can almost hear the screeched demands from the gaggle of old men who command the sorcerer world from the shadow.

He can do it too, without too much trouble. It… he… He is quite preoccupied now… seemingly with heartbreak of all things, and hasn't quite noticed that he's no longer alone. It would probably be a mercy. Cursed beings rarely lead good lives, if they have any life at all.

But…

And here is where Gojo Satoru falters.

He is holding Fushiguro Megumi, cradling him almost. Megumi's blood stains his shirt and hands. Megumi's face is stained with his tears and snots. He's healing Megumi… or trying to in any case. It's apparent that he has no talent for it, even with that tremendous curse energy. But he's giving his best anyway, giving his best while bawling his eyes out. It's honestly rather sad… and quite human.

No curse, regardless of intelligence or cunning, would ever behave like this.

So, in the face of this startling display of humanity, what's Satoru to do? Kill him in cold blood? He won't be disposing of a curse. He would be murdering a person. A person who is throwing everything he has and some into healing Satoru's student.

What to do, indeed. Oh, he can just hear the shouting match that will take place the moment those crotchety bag-o-bones catch wind of this. It will even be a delight, for all that it will cost him.

It will be a paradigm shift. But not just for him.

Satoru puts his blindfold back on, takes a step forward.

June 15th, 2018.

The Safeguard Transporter Unit backs slowly into the front courtyard of Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College. Its rear lights and headlights blink in sequence before its wheels, all 18 of them, slow to a stop.

Ijichi Kyotaka scurries nervously around the truck with a blue clip file in one hand. He glances at the armored cargo box. It's secure as far as he can see. Its containment level is rated up to the worst grade of radioactive waste from Sendai Genshiryoku Hatsudensho, the very place they borrowed the truck from. Then he checks the barrier around the Technical College. It's up and running, as it has been for the last few centuries.

Alright, he draws in a breath, bracing himself.

He walks the length of the truck, inspecting the cargo box, the drivetrain, and chassis. Everything is as it should be. He gets to the cabin, just right on time as the door swings open and out jumps a certain infamous sorcerer. Gojo Satoru smiles and salutes him.

"Yo, Ijichi."

"Gojo-san," he bows respectively, for all that he's not too fond of the man at the moment. Gojo always brings extra work for Ijichi, and extra headaches.

"Everything in order?"

"Well…" he checks his clip file with sweaty fingers. "...y… yes?"

"Good good. Am I clear to release cargo?"

Ijichi wants to say no. He knows what's in the cargo, and the subsequent uproar it will cause. The dozens of urgent messages in Ijichi's phone attest to this. So do the frantic phone calls a mere fifteen minutes prior to the transporter unit's arrival. But for once, Gojo Satoru has actually gone aboveboard with everything, with not even a hint of his usual provocative antics, designed to get a rise out of the staunch conservative traditionalists that make up the board of governors. It hasn't been a planned acquisition, true, but the subject was lawfully declared and contained. Willingly, it even says in the addendum declaration form. Required documentation has been submitted and filed. All relevant personnel, in this case, the entire school staff of both campuses and some, have been duly notified, and on-site containment protocols observed. The transport detail is appropriate for an artifact of that level - the highest possible level, he thinks - and acquisition of transport perfectly in line with process.

Ijichi swallows.

"Yes, Gojo-san."

"Perfecto!" the subject of Ijichi's momentary ire grins and snaps a finger. The cabin beeps and there is the flashing light. The door to the cargo box opens with a whirl and clicks of releasing steel clamps. At once, Ijichi feels the barrier around the college wobbles, like a soap bubble impacted by some physical force. Ijichi's legs shake beneath him. Something comes pouring from the open cargo compartment. It's Juryoku, thick and heavy and portent. It's curse energy like nothing he has ever seen before and it makes all the hair on Ijichi's body stand up like a static charge.

There is one breathless moment where his heart seems to stutter and he thinks, dreads… It's going to come down. The barrier. Whatever is in Gojo's cargo is too much for even Master Tengen. It's going to…

It holds. Master Tengen's barrier quivers once, twice, as if adapting to the new pressure within its confinement, before slowly snapping back into place. Ijichi releases the breath held in his lungs, shakily wipes the sweat off his brow.

In front of him, Gojo Satoru seems unaffected. The sorcerer makes another cheerful snapping motion, whistling to whoever still sits in the truck cabin.

"And down we go. Gentle now. It's fragile."

A set of automated ramps extends from within the cargo compartment and connects to the ground. Lead-lined gears and bolts turn to life as the ramp activates. Slowly, a twenty-by-twenty metal cube emerges from within the container and slowly rolls down the ramp.

Ijichi observes the cube warily. Every inch of its available surface is plastered with the highest grade sealing ofudas on hand, and he knows there are yet several more layers of protective and containment measures within the cube itself. And yet, the cube reeks of Juryoku, the implication being that even this level of sealing is not enough to contain the thing inside. Even this level of sealing, which Ijichi in all his years of service has never ever seen, fails to completely suppress the thing inside. Something is still leaking out, through the thick lead-lined steel walls meant for radioactive wastes and the layers of containment and counter-sealing. The leaked amount, which should be minuscule compared to what stays inside the cube, is enough to even have an effect on Master Tengen's Tobari from within his Tomb of The Stars. This thing... this unplanned acquisition that Gojo Satoru brings to them like a capricious tomcat bringing home a dead mouse has, without a doubt, usurped the title of King of Curses from the previous owner, if only partially because its birth has consumed part of that other equally terrifying artifact of a bygone era.

There's only one-word Ijichi can think of to describe the situation. Horrifying.

The thought that something of this magnitude has been born, not in times of wars, disasters, and atrocities, but in this modern relatively peaceful age. The thought that it was conceived and gestated under their very nose, a mere two hours away from the heart of the Jujutsu World itself. The thought that within less than a human's life span, mysterious circumstances beyond their knowing have engendered such a thing. The thought that it's only really contained and suppressed by its own will (?!) as per Gojo Satoru's words. These thoughts bring nothing short of a bone-chilling terror to Ijichi's person.

If he wasn't so dedicated to his job, and not already harried by over a dozen elders and other such personages clamoring for information on the latest scandal associated with the name Gojo Satoru, Ijichi might find it in himself to call in for a sick day and heap the thankless task of running clean-up operation behind Gojo onto whichever unfortunate soul is in the office while he is not.

The cube makes landfall with a particularly brittle-sounding thud. Its erratic motion and collision send electric jolts of anxiety up Ijichi's spine.

"Wooopps! A bit more gentle please!" Says Gojo Satoru cheerfully to whoever sits inside the cab. "We got some fragile cargo here! Wouldn't want nothing broken, would you?"

There's movement out the corner of Ijichi's eyes. Nanami Kento strolls to a stop beside him, takes one look at the cube, now on the floor of the front courtyard, and hands him some documents.

"What principal Yaga requested," he says succinctly. Ijichi receives the papers and puts them in the same clip binder he carries. It is getting thicker by the hours, and by the end of this day, he has no doubt it will be even thicker still.

"Did you find what you were looking for?"

Nanami clucked irritatedly. It's barely five in the morning. He's in overtime. Gojo has called the night before, made the arrangements, and drove the thing overnight from Sendai to here. On the one hand, such a powerful cursed…. artifact… needs prompt handling. On the other, it means every relevant staff and some had to be roused from ungodly hours and put to work.

"I haven't the faintest idea."

"Did you find nothing?"

"I found something, but it gives us more questions than answers."

"Alright," Ijichi presses no more. He can look at the composite reports later on, right before he hands everything over to the principal. Just in time too, because the object of his headache has finally spotted the newcomer.

"Yo! Nanami! Looking not too sprightly there!"

"No thanks to you, senpai," Nanami grunts. He would have looked cross if it weren't for his red-rimmed eyes and the rumpled state of his suit. The result of having been pulled from his bed at just a little over one in the morning to run a quick investigation on the new acquisition. Instead, he just looks tired and fed up. "Another one of your whims? It's even worse than the last time."

The last time has been Okkotsu and his Queen of Curses, now sitting in third place in the ranking of most powerful curses as cataloged by the Curse Technical College.

"But Nanami-tannn! Don't you have faith in your senpai? Everything turned out well the last time, didn't it?"

"Save it," snaps Nanami before he gives into a tired sigh, his body fighting the lack of sleep and whatever horror he encountered while digging into the circumstances around the birth of this new curse. "There's no talking to you like this. I just hope you know what you are doing, bringing that thing here."

Then before Gojo can dish forth whatever irreverent reply he has in his arsenal, Nanami turns and leaves.

"Well, I'm sure he will come around," Gojo shrugs, seemingly unaffected. "Just you see, Ijichi!" To which Ijichi has no reply. He doubts Gojo was expecting one, anyhow, because almost immediately, the man turns his attention back to the cube. He slaps it almost jovially.

"Now then, let me take this to the Isolation Chamber right pronto. Everybody is being so mean to poor Itadori-kun. So I'm just gonna take him right out of your hair. I tried to make this thing as cushy as I could, but I doubt he enjoyed being cubed up like this. Hah! Cubed up!"

Laughing at his own joke like an imbecile, the most powerful sorcerer of their generation makes a snapping motion with one hand and disappears in the blink of an eye. The man and the cube both.

Ijichi sags in his place, feeling light and floaty now that the sheer pressure from the cube is no longer present. He allows himself five minutes, sitting down on the stairs leading from the front courtyard. His palms are sweaty, knees shaking. Ijichi doesn't remember a time when he could be completely relaxed in the presence of Gojo Satoru, but today is especially bad, perhaps even the worst he has felt since… since the demise of that wayward Geto.

He takes out a kerchief, wipes his brows and hands. Then he drinks from the personal flask of Hakkaisan Tokubetsu Junmai he always keeps on his person. Now bolstered with a buzz of liquid courage, Ijichi stands and makes for the on-site morgue.

Ieiri Shoko is, unexpectedly, not her usual blase gloomy self when he gets there. She's buzzing around the office-cum-infirmary attached to the morgue with manic energy. When she spots him, her eyes go wide in the way cat's eyes do when they spot a particularly juicy mouse.

In the private sanctum of his own mind, Ijichi admits that he does not dislike being the mouse if the cat is Ieiri Shoko. Too many times the cat has been Gojo Satoru. If Ijichi is to suffer, he prefers to suffer to someone who holds at least some regard for his suffering.

"Ijichi, you are here, excellent!" She snaps off right away, pivoting on her swivel chair between the lab table and the computer. "When is the cursed corpse going to be here? I smell Hakkaisan Tokubetsu Junmai on you so you probably just dealt with the Gojo. If here's here, then that thing is here too, isn't it? I have everything prepared. This place is not really specced out for curse corpse dissection but I can totally make it work! It ate one of Sukuna's fingers, didn't it? Completely absorption with no downside I hear. Don't think that's ever happened before for as long as we have been holding onto them fingers. How long is that? Something like five hundred years or so? Fascinating! The thing we can learn from it. Have it wheeled in soon as you ca…"

"Ieiri-san, please!" Ijichi cuts into her monologue with a cough. "There will be no cursed corpse."

He gets an incredulous look from Ieiri for his trouble. But Ijichi has long since grown used to being talked over and taken and put aside with a glance. He knows how to deal.

"What did you say?"

"Unfortunately there is no cursed corpse for you to dissect, Ieiri-san. The cursed… thing…," he calls it thing and not spirit because Gojo Satoru has been very specific and very insistent in his report and acquisition form. The subject once known as Yuji Itadori, mortal age 15, is not to be classified as a cursed spirit or a cursed corpse or a cursed womb or even a curse user under any circumstances except the ones specified in the attached addendum. The subject once known as Yuji Itadori, mortal age 15, is to be logged and received into the artifact vault jurisdiction as a living artifact, the second instance known and recorded in the Jujutsu world since the last 1200 years. "... is alive and was taken into containment by Gojo-san. He was very specific that unless the exact circumstances are met, circumstances which he alone dictates, he will not serve as the executioner of… it."

Ieiri Shoko's expression pinches like she just swallows a bucketful of lemons, and her eyes are now like the eyes of a bug. On her pale, narrow face, and coupled with Ieiri's suddenly sharp intent on him, they make her look like a female grasshopper looming over poor Ijichi.

"What the hell did you just say, Ijichi? I'm not sure I understand," says the grasshopper, extending a sharply taloned limb.

"Ieiri-san, please," he hedged his clipboard like a shield, swallowing thickly as he does so. "I know about as much as you do, and I have less of a say in anything. It's Gojo. He's Gojo. You know how he is. If you want to know more, you're going to have to take it to the man himself. I'm only here for the reports on Fushiguro-kun. Is he at least okay?"

Ijichi has been there when an unconscious Fushiguro was flown to the school on an emergency evac helicopter. The result of what should have been a regular retrieval mission. A student of the Curse Technical College, maimed, possibly for life. Just going off on the state he was in when Ijichi oversaw his admission into Ieiri's care, he is probably lucky to even be alive in the first place.

A first-year student going up against multiple first-grade curses and that thing… with no preparation and his backup not in immediate reach. That Fushiguro was in quite over his head is an understatement. That he is alive as the result of monumental luck is another.

Ieiri fixes him with a long, hard stare, and when it becomes apparent that she isn't getting anything else out of Ijichi - not that there is anything Ijichi can give her. He's just the clean-up details for a man who regularly and openly threatens to massacre the higherups of their world and get away with it - turns with a huff to pull a slip of paper from the upper drawer of her desk.

"Fine! Be that way! There! His medical report. He will make a full recovery," she snarks.

"Thank you for understanding, Ieiri-san," Ijichi makes a placating gesture. Taking the report from her, he skims it in under a minute.

"It's true then. He is alive because of the… entity." Entity is a good word for it he thinks. From the reports of Gojo Satoru, he had never made it in time, his vaunted Rikugan momentarily blinded by the birth of the entity and later on its assimilation of one of the Twenty. He had arrived to the sight of the entity trying to tether Fushiguro Megumi's life to itself (?!) and then added to its effort before calling in emergency evac for his student. That makes the whole incident fascinating on a whole other level because...

One. Reversed curse techniques are, by and large, rare even among trained and pedigreed jujutsu sorcerers. Reversed curse techniques that can be used for other people aside from its holders is even rarer. In their generation, Ieiri Shoko is one among the only three who can perform healing arts with regularity on someone aside from herself. Even Gojo Satoru with his mastery of sorcery can only perform healing on himself, not on another. For a reversed curse to be used, not only from one human to another; but from a cursed entity on a human… If it can be studied at lengths, it likely will open up entirely new fields.

Two. As a rule, curses don't leave behind corpses. Or they shouldn't. By nature, they are ephemeral beings. Curses are the expressions of humanity's worse aspect. They don't quite die as dissipate. It's why it's called curse exorcism and not curse extermination. As an extension of this rule, Juryoku dissipates quickly once separated from the original curse. According to preliminary reports, Gojo's Living Artifact's energy has not only dissipated upon being removed from its owner… but is actually in the process of assimilating with the new host's inborn energy. Thus, Fushiguro Megumi's life was saved by the sheer impossibility of a cursed being's energy pumping through his body as if it was his own. As far as the Jujutsu world is concerned, such an impossibility has only been attempted once before, in a heinous experiment involving the breeding and hybridizing of humans and curses. An awkward in-between state is born that allows for the opening of doors probably best left unopened.

The stain of that experiment follows the Kamo clan to this day. Albeit the things they learned from it did indeed change the landscape of their world.

"Whatever you want to call it, the short answer is yes. He will live. Though we don't know if there will be consequences in the long term. Fushiguro-kun has no curse containment technique. Certainly not on the level that will guarantee his absolute safety. Never mind the condition in which the alien Juryoku was introduced to his body. It's one thing for a curse user with specifically altered Juryoku to subdue and contain curses for later use. It's quite another for curses to be forcefully injected into a dying sorcerer's body. We will have to observe Fushiguro-kun for years before any conclusion can be safely reached."

Ijichi nods. That's to be expected. But it's good to have it confirmed by the resident expert.

"I suppose you have taken a sample of the Juryoku?"

"I have. It's running through the analyzer. If you stick around for another… three hours, we may learn if it has any specific properties."

"Any guesses?"

Ieiri puts a finger under her chin, thinking. "I can't be too sure, not without a complete reading and definitely not without having a direct sample or a full autopsy, but…," she pauses, turns in the direction Ijichi thinks she has her analyzer and takes a long whiff. "... My guts say reinforcement… and something extra screwy on top of that. It's looping, I notice. Every time I take it out of the boy, it's looping, trying to get back to where it was. Fushiguro-kun's damaged tissues also exhibit minor reversal effects. Using time-reversal for healing. Talk about using a butcher knife to slaughter a chicken, but if that's all you have to work with... So my best guest is… our new resident for the curse vault is a physical powerhouse and has some trick to do with space-time."

Space-time. Like Gojo Satoru's Limitless. Or the mythical Prison Realm Cube that can trap a person in a separated pocket dimension. If Ieiri's guess turns out to be true, then the threat level of this 'living artifact' just jumps three extra grades… not that there is anything above special grade curse. The term itself is already a black box into which all unquantifiable entities are put.

"Can I put that in my report?"

"I would rather you don't. It's just a few hours until the machine is finished." Unspoken is the fact that the Juryoku analyzer belongs to a newborn subset of Jujutsu study and so does not have the accuracy its name and high tech nature might suggest. Such analyzers were created for use on curse users, Jusoshi who pervert the spirit of Jujutsu to their selfish ends, and the complexity of Jusoshi crimes. They were not, as a matter of fact, created for curses. Ka Ju-Onryou, Kaso Ju-Onryou, Shippei Jurei, even the lowly Noroi that amounts to nothing more than annoyances even to regular humans. All of these are probably beyond the analyzer's capability for the simple fact that no true research has ever been performed on curses before. None but once… and that one time is enough. The Kamo clan's century of shame is attestation enough.

"I understand. But I'm rather pressed for time. I will leave you to your work."

"Stay drunk, Ijichi. Got a feeling you are going to need it."

Too bad he can't. Get too drunk that is. Too many big-wigs keep him on speed dial after this morning. He will need his wits about him.

"Thank you, Ieiri-san. I'll think about it."

He smiles apologetically, leaves her to her work, and heads to his own salaryman-styled office in the back wing of the college. On the way there he runs into Kusakabe Atsuya. The second-year instructor is flinty-eyed and jumpy, looking this way and that like he's seeing ghosts in the hallowed corridors of the school.

"I heard, Ijichi. It's true, isn't it? He's brought back another one," Kusakabe leans in to whisper into Ijichi's ears like they aren't standing in a deserted hallway in a remote and gargantuan college compound on the outskirts of Tokyo.

"I'm not sure what you are talking about, Kusakabe-san," Ijichi hedges. He already knows what Kusakabe is talking about of course. Their world is, after all, a small one. This school itself has never hosted more than double-digit occupants. So rumors travel fast and they travel far. A thing of this magnitude is never going to not make a splash. And here is Kusakabe, ever the worrywart, jumping from one foot to the next and looking at Ijichi like he's carrying live grenades. But Ijichi isn't going to be the one to give the grapevines more to work with. Leave that to the higher-ups and their scheming.

"That! I'm talking about that! That thing!" Kusakabe's whispers gain a mild hysterical edge to it. His eyes jump between Ijichi and the direction of the Isolation Chamber. "You can't tell me you don't feel that, man! The hell is that thing?! I can feel outside the gate coming in! That's at least three layers of Tobari it's gotta be leaking through. The one on the Isolation Chamber. The college inner court Tobari. AND the one held up by Tengen-sama! What the hell, man? Why am I sensing frigging Juryoku through the gate?!"

Kusakabe, fraidy-cat that he is, just so happens to be the best sensor they have on hand. He's not one for a fight, but there are few Jujutsu-shi who is better than him at tracking down fugitives of the Jujutsu world. It shouldn't surprise Ijichi that it's Kusakabe who susses out the artifact's presence even before setting foot on school grounds proper. Again, he is reminded of the sheer size and potency of the thing's Juryoku. And it's a newborn, going by the standards of their world.

"I almost thought we were under attack! I was this close to… uh… to jumping in sword-swinging and all…"

He was debating whether he should run or call for help, wasn't he? Muses Ijichi.

"But then Nitta-san came out and bonked me over the head asking me what the hell I was trying to do! I almost turned my sword on her! I was that… uh… ready for battle!"

He almost turned tail and ran on reflex, didn't he?

"You know how that would have gone down, man?! So then I asked her what the hell was going on and what the hell is that thing… you know the thing. I know you know! And Nitta wouldn't tell me! Me! I always bring her chocolate on Friday and share my Junmai on Thursday, Ijichi! This is unfair. She told me it's way above her paygrade and that if I have a problem then I should bring it up to the Gojo. THE GOJO! It's always him, isn't it? He brought in another one, isn't it? Like Okkotsu isn't already enough on my poor nerve!"

"Didn't you say Okkotsu-san was your favorite student of the second-year students? That he's mild-mannered and doesn't give you extra trouble like Panda and the Zenin girl?"

Not to mention very understanding of Kusakabe's cowardly attitude.

"That's beside the point, Ijichi man! Are you or are you not on my side?"

"Ehh…"

"Stabbed in the back! The thing you do to me, Ijichi!"

"Uhh…"

"Really all I'm asking is… what the hell is that thing that is giving me the heebie-jeebies all the way on the other side of Tokyo? And why isn't it either dead or in the suppression vault?"

"I can't answer either of those questions, Kusakabe-san. It's… well… It's the Gojo."

It's even true. As per protocol, the Jujutsu-shi who makes the discovery is also often the one tasked with exorcism, should his abilities suffice. That the Jujutsu-shi in this case is Gojo Satoru of all people, it goes without question that he has the ability.

But does he? Does he really? A voice whispers in Ijichi's mind. For sure, Gojo Satoru's battle prowess is without compare, but Ijichi has also played chauffeur to almost every Jujutsu-shi that ever steps out from the gate of this hallowed school and as a result been to almost every battle fought. He takes part in few of those battles of course, but bearing witness to so many has honed a sense in him. An ability to gauge if the match is well-made so to say. He can usually tell if a target is a tricky one and how the Jujutsu-shi might fare against it. When he was younger, Gojo Satoru did experience the taste of defeat. But the result of his strength is that he inevitably attracts conflict. He has no shortage of opponents on which he sharpens his ability. The undefeatable Gojo Satoru of today, the Dreaded of the Jujutsu world, holder of the scale between Jujutsu-shi and the many monstrous Jusoshi and Jurei. That is the result of over a decade spent in unending battles. Ijichi thinks of this undefeatable juggernaut and the gargantuan unknown presence that is the entity… and curiously comes up blank.

The entity is a newborn. It will grow. Comes the traitorous thought. So it comes to reason that given time, perhaps Gojo will no longer be undefeatable. Gojo himself probably knows this. So why, then, did he choose to 'acquire' this cursed thing instead of exterminating it right then and there when it's yet emerging from its womb? A question that will come up in the mind of many in the days to come, no doubt.

"Ijichi! Don't zone out on me, man!"

Kusakabe has both hands on Ijichi's shoulders, and now he is shaking. Truly the miracle that is this man's continuous survival while being the instructor of the second-year students.

"Kusakabe-san, please! You know the protocol! Even if I know anything, you know I can't say a word until the principal deems the information ready."

"Ijichi!"

"Listen. How about you take today off?"

"I can do that?"

"The second-year students have already received the notice. Today will be an off day since the majority of the school staff will be preoccupied. I'm sure the principal won't mind if you just… take a break for today… while he gets things together. There will likely be a notice soon. Now if you don't mind..."

It goes on for another five minutes. In between cajoling, comforting, and a promise to let him in on the loop the moment it's ok to do so, he does finally get Kusakabe to calm down and let him be. When Ijichi does get to his office, it's already half-past eight. Principal Yaga expects him at nine. He hurries to his desk to put together a report. On the same desk, his laptop is still up and running a live recording from Isolation Chamber.

On the screen, Gojo Satoru is sitting opposite a teenage boy, chatting amicably. The teenage boy is maybe fifteen, maybe sixteen, with pink hair and wide eyes and wearing a dusty yellow sweater. He has a collar - special grade suppression seal designation S - on his throat, a pair of cuffs -special grade paired suppression seals designation A - around his wrist, and shackles - special grade chained suppression seals designation A - on his legs, chaining him to the chair on which he sits. The room around them is dark and gloomy and positively festooned with suppression ofudas. Despite all this, the teenager is smiling almost gently. Smiling and talking back to Gojo. The pair of them look like old friends almost, for all that one is a Jujutsu-shi and the other something on par with one of the Three, and that they met not over twenty-four hours ago.

It looks so young, is Ijichi's first thought. It looks young and innocent and harmless. The LCD display belies the true nature of the beast. But for something like this to exist, unspeakable horrors must have taken place. The details of such horrors and the resultant birth. The how, the when, the where, the why, and the who. All of these are things they must figure out, now that execution is not one of the options.

It is Ijichi's task to start putting the puzzle together to form the picture.

He sits down on his chair, puts the clip binder on his desk. He takes his flask from the inner pocket of his suit, takes a long, big gulp, sets it aside. He rubs his face once, twice, then puts his hands on the clip binder. He opens it. The first page reads.

Itadori Yuji

15/6/2018 - Sendai, Miyagi.

Grade: Special

Categorization: Living Artifact *

Acquisition: Gojo Satoru

Codename: Beloved

End Chapter 3

A/N: I decided to switch to using more of the Japanese lingo as I felt a lot of nuances were lost in translation. Some of it is simply because of a difference in culture. Some words have no true equivalence no matter how much one tries. The result is that many concepts are muddled once translated. I feel that using the source words would eventually make for a more defined world and storyline.

Jujutsu-shi: Sorcerer

Juryoku: Cursed Energy

Jusoshi: Curse User

Tobari: Curtain - the barrier technique often used by sorcerers

Jurei, Noroi, Ka Ju-Onryou, Kaso Ju-Onryou, Shippei Jurei: different types of cursed spirits

Rikugan: Six Eyes