chapter 6: mercy killing

cw: mentions of blood, normal jjk gore, childhood trauma

"Are you all right, Getou-kun?"

Suguru jolts in his seat. Yuna sits across from him, peeling an orange. The sharp zesty scent lingers in the train compartment. Outside, the snowy landscape zips by, punctured by the occasional smoking chimney or roaming cow. In contrast, Yuna's sweater, dark maroon over a white dress, looks too rich a color.

"You've been a bit distracted since you came back."

Suguru thinks he's been acting perfectly normally—normal enough to fool Satoru, anyway. After their fight, Satoru had genuinely apologized and listened as much as his limited attention span allowed. Suguru is still unconvinced that Satoru really understands the bulk of Suguru's concerns, but like with many things when it comes to the Gojou heir, the effort he exerts often means more than outcomes. They've been good, bickering as usual, texting back and forth, sometimes calling when Suguru was home for two weeks. Suguru won't admit that he missed him, but he did miss the school more than he'd thought. Since his return, mission work has ramped up swiftly, but Suguru doesn't mind.

"Did you have a good trip home?" Yuna hands him the peeled orange.

Suguru takes it and splits it in half, handing one half back to her. "It was good, sensei. I ate a lot. My mom was worried I lost weight."

"You're just growing. You and Gojou-kun look a bit like beanpoles stretched out. It won't change for a few years, no matter how much you eat."

"That's what I told her."

She chews on a piece of orange. "I won't push, Getou-kun, if you don't want to talk about it. Just let me know if there's anything I can do to help."

He wonders if Yuna is like this with the others, if she can read them the same way. Satoru always complains that Yuna is playing favorites, but Suguru finds it hard to take seriously. He knows she cares deeply about Shouko; he's spotted her in her office studying anatomy far too late at night. And no one would willingly get in a car with Satoru without being invested in his well-being while being uninvested in their own.

He thinks she would be the same, with Shouko or Satoru, if they spoke with her as frankly as he did. Not to say that Suguru is as open with her as he is with his classmates—cursing in front of her, especially when they're alone, still feels blasphemous—but ever since he'd stormed to her office confessing he'd smashed the wall of his room in a fit of (possibly gay) panic, Suguru finds an unexpected solace in her presence.

"Thanks, sensei."

She hums her "No need for thanks" hum. Suguru bites into his orange whole and enjoys the sweetness that spills over his tongue.

"Do you think I've changed?" he asks.

Yuna rummages through her bag and brings out two bottles, one of spring water, the other of Ito En green tea. She hands the tea over to him.

"Yes," is her one-word reply.

Suguru waits for her to continue, but she doesn't. He has not asked her for more, so she does not give it.

"In a bad way?"

"Not all change is not bad or good, Getou-kun. Some change is just all it is. You're growing up. Change is expected."

"Did I change more than you expected me to?"

"To be completely honest, I did not expect much from any of you."

"That's a resounding endorsement, sensei."

"Not in that way," the edge of her mouth curls a bit. "Of course I expected great jujutsu things from all of you. But personal growth is a different story. I imagine that is the change you're referring to."

"Yeah." Suguru finally decides to be blunt; talking in vague terms with Yuna often leads to circular discussions. "My mom said I changed for the worse. She said I was more apathetic about things, like when she told me about what curses had done to our neighbors, and I guess I just didn't react the way I used to. Shouko's said stuff like that all year, that I've changed, but coming from my mom…it just got me thinking."

"I see." She takes some time before continuing. "We see many terrible things in our line of work, Getou-kun. I know you've been exorcising since you were a child, but the curses here are more vicious, and the fatalities…" Her voice trails off. "I know I had a hard time adjusting when I moved here."

"Oh, right." Suguru remembers Yuna is also from the countryside. "So you get it. Back home, you don't feel the weight of Cursed Energy all the time—it just comes whenever there's a bad curse. But here…"

Yuna nods in understanding. "It's incessant. It can be very draining."

"But I think I got used to it," mutters Suguru. "I think that's what bothers them."

"Does it bother you?"

"Not really until they brought it up. If anything," he smirks, "I was proud of myself for being all right in the city. In the beginning, after each mission, I just wanted to run back to campus as fast as possible. Now, I see a bunch of mutilated victims and all I wonder is what Satoru and I are going to get for dinner."

Yuna takes a long time to respond. The train rolls by, its wheels quiet and swift, the lull of the engine encouraging Suguru to fall asleep. Mission work with Yuna goes surprisingly smoothly; her familiarity with Constraining curses makes it easy for Suguru to capture and ingest the curses he wants to. She always gives him first pick, then either selectively exorcises or Constrains the remains. He has only told Satoru just how foul curses taste, but Yuna seems to have guessed that it's unpleasant. She always brings snacks with strong flavors on their trips. She reaches for another orange from her bag and begins to peel it.

"I don't want to say it's normal, Getou-kun, because it's not. Teenagers shouldn't have to be exposed to so much death and danger. But it is our job, and there is no reasonable alternative. So what we're left with is the little defense we can create for ourselves. If that means caring less…that is understandable, even if your parents don't find it so."

"Right," he lets out a breath. "Just sucks when Satoru turns out to be right."

"Mm?"

"He always says nothing matters. With more expletives."

"Ah. Well, he's a bit dramatic, and I think him saying nothing matters is how he copes with how much he doesn't know." Suguru knows she is alluding to their recent discovery that Satoru has such piss-poor geographic knowledge that he doesn't even know the names of all the great ocenas. "He's also been in the jujutsu world for a much longer time. Besides…" She gives him a small, knowing smile as she hands him another whole orange, which he breaks apart and hands back to her, "maybe you'll prove him wrong."

"Boyfriend."

"No way. Cousin. Or uncle."

Shouko makes a face. "Gross. And wrong. What's the point of having Six Eyes if they don't work? They look nothing alike."

"He's definitely got ten years on her," argues Satoru. Shouko can't believe how dumb he is sometimes. "Don't think that's her type, just guessin' by her history."

"Do you always have to bring that up? It's rude. Suguru, what do you think?"

Suguru has been hiding behind a pillar and playing on his phone, posturing that he is above the fray that is Shouko and Satoru when in reality he is just as invested. He takes one look at the man chatting with their teacher in the school courtyard before making a judgment.

"One-sided interest. He wants to take her out, she wants to go back to lesson planning."

There's a slight pause as Satoru and Shouko re-examine the scene.

"I change my answer. I agree with Suguru," declares Shouko.

"What? No! He's not flirting with her!"

"He's literally blushing and bowing right now!"

"Is that how you flirt?"

"If I were bad at it!"

"You probably are bad at it, that's why you're single."

"Just because you have whatever this is," she points between the two of them, "doesn't mean you've got more game, it just means Suguru has shitty taste."

"Please don't bring my taste into this," says Suguru dryly.

"Look at these first-years." The three of them turn to find Utahime and Mei join them, looking flushed and sweaty after a session on the training grounds. Early spring has brought warming weather, and both of them are carrying their school jackets over their arms as they cool off. "Slacking hard while your senpai slave away, huh?"

"We had lessons this morning and are on a designated lunch break," says Suguru pointedly.

"Don't you have a towel?" Satoru leans his head on Suguru's shoulder and squints at Utahime. "You have a sweat-stache, Utahime. It's gross."

"You're gross!"

"Good comeback, Utahime," Mei hands over a face cloth. "What are you three doing, spying on Yuna-senpai?"

"We're trying to guess if that dude," Satoru jerks his hand back at them, "is her family member or boyfriend."

"Or one-sided love interest," adds Shouko.

"I've never seen senpai have a love interest," Utahime peers interestedly over them to take a look. "Oh, he's a lot older. Don't think he'd be her type…"

"That's what I said!" pouts Satoru.

"Don't think that's a relative though," says Mei. "Why do you care so much, anyway?"

Yuna turns in their direction before Satoru can reply.

"You bunch," she calls, "come over here."

Satoru yips dramatically. "Eh, she found us!"

"You weren't exactly in hiding," points out Mei.

The students cross the courtyard and join their teacher, whose expression is beautifully blank but whose words, as always, are painfully blunt.

"It is rude to hide in the corner and not greet school guests," she says.

"Oh, it's fine! It's wonderful to see how well the students get along." The man who is with her smiles. He is middle-aged, with the early onset of wrinkles and trace silver hairs. He has a kindly but plain face, one that Shouko will certainly forget the moment he leaves her sight.

This is Haibara-san," introduces Yuna. "His son is in his third-year of middle school and is thinking of enrolling here next year." She looks at all of them with the slightest trace of severity, as if warning them to be on their best behavior. They all ignore her, collectively disappointed with such a boring visitor.

"It is wonderful to meet you all," bows Haibara. "My son is so incredibly excited to be starting with such stellar classmates next year. If I must be honest…" His eyes land on Satoru, "how incredible for him to have the opportunity to learn from the famous Gojou Satoru!"

Satoru preens at the admiration because he's an egomaniac. Shouko resists rolling her eyes; someone fawns over Satoru every time they leave the campus, regardless if they know he's the Gojou heir or not. Something about his snowy hair and piercing blue eyes and his ridiculous height catches attention, she guesses, though anyone neurologically intact would lose interest in Satoru within five minutes of being in his presence.

Yuna's mouth imperceptibly turns downward.

"We are certainly lucky to have Gojou-kun be a student here," she says, "as we are lucky to have all of our students. Students not from the Three Great Families also are remarkably talented. Mei-san is one of our third years who was recently promoted to a Grade One Sorcerer."

Senpai, you don't need to do that," Mei says demurely.

"Absolutely remarkable!" beams Haibara. "The women here are so talented and beautiful! My son would be so lucky."

The comment irks Shouko, but she decides that her job today isn't to make a grown man cry about his casual sexism.

"And to be taught by a beautiful teacher as yourself," he continues. "You must be remarkably strong in your own right, to be able to stand up to the Kamo clan on your own!"

Yuna blinks. "What do you mean by that?"

"I hear the Gojou clan has thrown their weight behind you! Truly a testament to the caliber of teaching at this school."

Haibara blabbers on, but Shouko is too busy trying to decipher if the infamously rare furrow between Yuna's brows has reappeared. After staring for five minutes, she decides that it is just a trick of light, for Yuna nods patiently while she listens to Haibara before finally escorting him to the exit with the promise that his son would be a wonderful addition to the school.

When she returns, Yuna stares straight at Mei and asks,

"How did he know about the Kamo clan incident?"

Shouko looks curiously between the two women. Mei raises her hands in defense as if to say, "Not me."

"I had to tell my parents," says Satoru, bored. "The Kamo clan got mad that I was rude, so I had to give my parents a reason why I threatened a clan war."

"Gojou-kun—"

"It's fine," Satoru interrupts. "They were getting antsy I wasn't telling them anything about school. This was dramatic enough to keep them occupied."

"I don't want anyone to think I've been sponsored by the Gojou clan," Yuna says.

"You're not, that's just a rumor. Technically, the school is sponsored by us, and you're an employee, so it's not a big deal."

Yuna's grip on her elbows is tight enough to cause her blouse to crinkle.

"I don't want to cause any trouble," she says quietly.

"It's not a big deal," yawns Satoru. "Don't worry about it, sensei. Man, what a disappointment. Parent of a student…geez. Was hoping it was something spicy."

"What do you mean?"

"Your kids thought he was a boyfriend or something," says Utahime. Shouko elbows her in the waist.

"Ah. No, nothing that interesting." Yuna checks her watch. "You all should have paired physical training this afternoon, first-years. Mei-san has agreed to supervise."

"I thought we were going to have lectures," Suguru frowns.

"I'm sorry, I won't be free. I promise we'll do Domain theory tomorrow. Gojou-kun will have individual geography lessons in the evening too."

"I don't need those!"

"You've been busy recently, sensei," comments Suguru.

"I'm sorry, Getou-kun. I'm finishing something up today. I promise things will get back to normal after this." Yuna tucks her hair behind her ears and bows. When she straightens up, she doesn't meet any of their eyes. "Please excuse me."

It takes months of careful planning, intensive research, and neurotic preparation for Yuna to finally sit in a cat café in Akibahara, waiting. She checks her watch. It is already fifteen minutes past the appointed time. She is prepared to tell Yuki that it's a lost cause.

A shadow falls over her as she is searching for her wallet to pay for her latte and dry scone. A man hovers above her, his shoulders as broad as the doorway and his arms almost the size of Yuna's waist. He has jet black hair and deep green eyes that remind her of a snake right before it strikes. A scar cuts through the right side of his mouth. He wears a black T-shirt and a light wash of denim jeans, casual enough wear for this to be clear to all parties involved that this is, in fact, not a date. Yuna wishes she'd worn something a little less nice—her blouse is cream with lace detailing and a black string that ties around her collar in a neat bow, and her slacks are new. She opted for old, comfortable flats, though, because she is ninety-five percent sure she will need to run at the end of this meeting.

"You Morimoto?" His voice sends a shudder down Yuna's spine that she represses.

"Yes." She stands up and bows at the waist. "Thank you for meeting me, Zen'in-san."

"No need for all that. I'm not like those old stiffs."

He sits down in the chair across from her, and it protests stridently at his weight. The café workers and most customers stare at him, and Yuna doesn't blame them. He looks like yakuza, not a cat café regular, though she thinks she should give yakuza the benefit of the doubt and decides they are not mutually exclusive from patrons of cat cafés.

"Would you like anything to drink?" She gestures to a server who comes by with another menu, but he waves her off.

"Black coffee's fine."

The server stumbles away, leaving the two of them alone to examine each other in silence. The café customers lose interest after some time and resume playing with the cats. For some reason, Yuna has been unsuccessful in attracting any animals her way, but one gray tabby boldly brushes her tail against her guest, and he leans down to scratch her ears.

Yuna waits until the server returns with the coffee before she speaks.

"Thank you for meeting with me, Zen'in-san."

"Fushiguro."

"Pardon?"

"I took my wife's last name. It's Fushiguro Toji."

Yuna stares at him. She knew that he was married and had a child, possibly also a stepchild, but she had not found any documentation about a name change. Her silence stretches long enough that he looks her way.

"What?"

"I'm just trying to decide if you're lying or not," she answers honestly.

He smirks. "Nah. First one of my kind, eh? A Zen'in that doesn't want to be a Zen'in? Not that the family wanted me either."

Yuna thinks before she replies. She has a general idea of how poorly the Zen'in family treated one of their main sons born with not just no Cursed Technique, but no Cursed Energy at all.

"It's very progressive of you, Fushiguro-san. Especially with the Zen'in family's track record when it comes to women."

His smirk widens. "That's one way to put it. So tell me, what's one of Jujutsu High's prestigious teachers got to do with lil ol' me?"

"I am not here in any official capacity, simply as a favor to Tsukumo Yuki. You may have heard of her."

"Huh. Yeah, one of the three Special Grade sorcerers?"

"Yes. We were classmates. One of her research interests is determining how to eliminate the presence of curses in the world."

Fushiguro snorts. "Good luck with that. You can exorcise shit all day and another five will just pop in its place."

"Yuki-san understands that, which is why she is interested in how to eliminate the origin of curses altogether: cursed energy. She asked me to look into you, given your…particular circumstances. From what I've gathered, you are the only person in the world to have zero Cursed Energy, which means it is impossible for you to birth a curse. In a way, you are…a more evolved being."

He actually laughs at that, splashing coffee everywhere. "That's rich! You should bring that up to the Zen'in clan, see what they have to say about that!"

Yuna dabs her face with a napkin and inspects her blouse, which has thankfully been spared. "I am being serious, Fushiguro-san. Yuki-san would like to involve you in her research, a bit like a primary subject. Nothing harmful, obviously, and you will be compensated."

She resists adding an, "I think" to the end of that statement. She is honestly unsure of where Yuki will get the money, when she's not taking any missions. Surely Yuna's teaching salary will not be enough.

"The Special Grade wants a guinea pig? No thanks."

"It could yield the end to all curses, Fushiguro-san. The implications for humanity—"

"Yeah, I don't give two shits about that. Curses don't bother me. Humans bother me plenty. Eradicating Cursed Energy won't get rid of humans—doesn't change my world in any way." He stretches back. "What a load of self-righteous bullshit. I figured this meeting would be something I'd reject. A request from someone at Jujutsu High would never be interesting."

"I see." She pauses. She honestly agrees with him; the "implications for humanity" argument that Yuki had supplied her with feels grandiose and insincere. "If you knew you were going to reject my request, why did you agree to this meeting?"

"Just curious. Plus, you let me choose the place, and I've been wanting to check out the cats." Fushiguro looks around. "Hard for me to come here alone without getting looks."

Yuna does not offer her observation that meeting with her did not spare him.

"And?" There must be more.

"And, well," Fushiguro grins, "let's just say you've cropped up on the Black Market a couple times with a high enough bounty to pique my interest."

She can hear her heart pounding in her head. She was already nervous before this meeting, knowing what Fushiguro's reputation was in the jujutsu underworld, but she had not anticipated this.

He reads her surprise. "First time dealing with the jujutsu underworld, huh? First rule of business: know what information is circulating about you before you start doing deals on others."

"Thank you," she says simply. "I'll keep that in mind. Admittedly, I did not think I would be of enough importance to warrant a bounty."

"Anything the Great Families put a price on leads to other figures getting interested. What does the Kamo head want with you?"

Yuna purse her lips as she makes the connection. "It's unimaginative."

Fushiguro scoffs. "Boring. And wrong. Unless the head is into some creepy shit, which…" He muses aloud, "I guess that's not impossible, but I've met that asshole and he'd fuck a horse if it meant getting a Blood Technique. Your corpse, as pretty as it may be, can't do that. Why does he want you dead?"

Yuna reviews her exit strategy. Her only requirement for the meeting location was that it'd be public. No matter what, Fushiguro would not kill her in the middle of a cat café full of customers. Once she slips out the front doors, it will be easy for someone of her stature to be lost in the masses of Akibahara. Dotting the streets on the way to the station are talismans that will delay him, and at the actual station, she will activate a Curtain that will prevent anyone with zero Cursed Energy from penetrating. She just needs to get to the station.

"You look like you're thinking hard, Morimoto. Better be a good reason."

Yuna composes herself. "Kamo-sama was quite offended by his visit to the school. He thought the students were poorly behaved."

"Doesn't seem worth killing you for."

"The Great Families have killed for lesser whims."

"True, but not in your case. You caught their eye at their visit. They did a little digging. So did I." Fushiguro reaches into his pocket and pulls out a weathered piece of paper. He slides it across the table.

She glances at the paper and feels the blood drain from her face.

June 4th, 2001. Double homicide. Victims: Morimoto Yuudai, 36; Kamo Hiroto, 38. Means of death: Strangulation with umbilical cord. Suspect, Morimoto Yuna, 15, has been taken in captivity.

"Surprised? Yeah, I bet. Yaga did a great job covering that up, especially in the jujutsu world. He forgot about regular police reports though. Found this in one of their files. Makes more sense why the Kamo family would pay so much more for a corpse than a whore."

If Yuna gets out of this alive, she will never do a favor for Yuki ever again. She has severely underestimated the consequences of dabbling this deeply in the jujutsu world; she should have known better than to connect with such a notorious member of the Great Families, exiled or not.

"So you're here for a revenge killing?" she says quietly. "I guarantee you, the Kamo family did not miss that man."

"Yeah, I know. I read about him, too." Fushiguro actually looks disgusted as he recalls. "Expelled from the clan nine years ago after he started replicating Kamo Noritoshi's work from the Meiji period."

"Then they should appreciate the favor I did them."

"You're just a bitch begging for scraps if you're waiting for the Kamo family to thank you." Fushiguro looks her up and down. "You're a funny little thing, aren't you? Heart's hammering faster than a hummingbird, but you do a good job hiding it. Wouldn't have guessed you had that amount of fucked up in you."

Her eyes flicker to his. He is studying her closely, and she knows—he can hear her heart beating, can smell her fear and perspiration, can sense the tension laced through every muscle, ready to launch her out of the café.

"Do you know what those two men did to me? If you do, what happened shouldn't come as such a surprise."

"I have an idea. It ain't pretty. But when it comes to the Great Clans, most things aren't. I should know—I grew up in one without a Cursed Technique."

"I'm certain we have much overlap, with my being an unwilling child bride, your being born into a Great Family." Her tone drips with acidity, and she knows she is being more obviously hostile than she has ability to back up, but Fushiguro has carved up her normal defenses so readily that she is left unable to self-regulate.

"I bet your story is a sad one, but it ain't special. If anything, people think you got a blessing out of it." Fushiguro's lips quirk. "You're a monkey who learned a trick. Most people would kill for that."

Yuna's blood sears.

"I never fucking asked for any of it."

"So you would've rather been a child bride forever?"

It's a question Yuna loathes with every fiber of her being. Of course he would see it that way—that she should thank the hellfire she'd been baptized in as long as it gave her the strength to douse the fire herself. But lacking in every step of her journey was possibility of choice: she did not ask to be sold and wed, she did not ask to be abused, tortured, she did not ask for the ability to see curses in all their horror, nor did she ask for the power to exorcise them.

How she has held herself against Fushiguro is unexpected even to herself, but that's the funny thing about dreading something for so long—when it finally happens, when it reveals itself, there is little to do. She is scared, but Yuna is always scared, it is not a new emotion she is learning to deal with. She doesn't know what possesses her to keep talking, when she should be smarter around this man who will surely kill her before the hour is done, but in the face of a man who knows the full of her past, who has likely gone through much abuse at the hands of his own family, but is still unwilling to show any mercy, the constant anger that Yuna keeps tightly guarded inside of her threatens to erupt.

"What do you want, Fushiguro-san?"

"I don't do missions for the Great Families, as a general rule." He drains what remains of his coffee and takes back the paper convicting Yuna of homicide. "But other groups are interested now, and it's made your price skyrocket. I got a client who wants the non-jujutsu sorcerer who was forced to learn a coveted Blood Technique. You're one of a kind."

"And your conscience is at peace turning me over to similar men, knowing what they will do to me next?"

Yuna knows appealing to whatever remnant of humanity in him is not working. Fushiguro looks bored.

"Sorry." He doesn't look it. "Gotta feed a family."

"Does your son know you hunt down women to put food on his table?"

Recognition lights in Fushiguro's eyes, and he smirks. "Sorry, that won't work on me. I was lying. I haven't seen my kid in years. Money's for me."

Fuck the Great Families and their uncontested ability to turn everything they touch to rot.

"I take it back. You're a member of the Great Clans, through and through." Yuna reaches into her wallet and pulls out a bill. "The shittiest parents I've ever met."

She flings the bill at him, painted with the word "Freeze" in her blood, and it sticks to his chest.

Yuna does not wait to see if it works. She dashes out of the café and onto the streets, a roaring in her ears as she pushes up her sleeves and reveals the spell work binding her arms. The spell had been written on a regular yen bill instead of washi imbued with Cursed Energy, so she does not know how long it will last. She melts into the crowd and pushes forward; she's fifteen blocks away from the station, and once she crosses the threshold, she can activate her preparations from earlier: a red rope dyed with her blood and entangled with months of Cursed Energy, powerful enough to hold the Sorcerer Killer outside its Curtain.

Yuna does not bother to sense by Cursed Energy because the instincts of a Jujutsu sorcerer are useless against Fushiguro Toji, who exudes no Energy at all. Even more experienced sorcerers fighting against Fushiguro would be effectively fighting blindfolded, and Fushiguro would be able to kill them in seconds. Yuna would be no exception, were it not for the fact that she was not born to a jujutsu family.

Before Yuna was a sorcerer, she was a young girl who knew what it meant to suffer under the hands of men more powerful than she, and she had honed a critical skill that few of her colleagues have—the pathetic instinct of survival that only the truly weak can understand, the way rabbits know to hide long before wolves can smell them.

She feels death rushing after her, his speed inhuman despite the crowds. Yuna keeps close to the main road and triggers the talismans she set down earlier. Barriers erupt from the ground, gold and flickering, forcing Fushiguro to sidestep and gaining Yuna precious seconds. Her legs burn but she does not falter. She presses her hands together, forming seals as the characters on her forearms begin to sear and her Cursed Energy slowly accumulates under her skin. She leaps over a bicycle rack but her foot catches onto rail; she tumbles onto the ground but is able to roll smoothly onto her feet.

She looks up, and Fushiguro looms over her. He slashes at her and Yuna instinctively jerks back, but not far enough. The tip of his blade slices from her forehead down her left eye and cheek; blood fills half her vision and the other half fills with tears—the pain is agonizing, but Yuna does not scream. She presses a hand to her forehead, where blood gushes down her face and forearm, drenching her blouse. Several passersby point in horror, which makes Fushiguro pause.

"Come on," he frowns. "Just come quietly. I don't want to make a scene."

Her breaths come shallowly as she tries to clear her vision, but she instead wipes blood and tears all over her face. She is unnecessarily livid that her blouse is ruined. "You're trying to kill me with a fucking knife. It will make a scene."

He grins. "Wow, you're mouthier than you look. I'm not trying to kill you, I'm trying to kidnap you."

Yuna smears blood down her right forearm and stretches out her hand, taking aim. The character for Blast sears red and a surge of bloody Cursed Energy erupts from her right palm, throwing up several civilians but only enough to push Fushiguro back. Her true target is a fire hydrant, which erupts into a geyser of water that provides enough distraction for Yuna to immediately start running again.

Yuki had mentioned Fushiguro's lack of Cursed Energy meant he was also unable to sense Cursed Energy. Instead, this deficit was supplanted by superhuman senses, but no one requires Fushiguro's senses to be able to track the copious amounts of blood Yuna drips with every step. Her vision is blurry but she can see it, the Akibahara station. She pushes aside the people asking if she is all right and stumbles past the front doors. She brings two fingers up, shaking violently, and whispers the purification spell.

Nothing happens.

She turns around, panicking when she doesn't see the Curtain fall. Fushiguro idles into the station seconds later, holding up a segment of red rope, its edges cut cleanly, the two talismans dangling from it torn cleanly in half.

"Expecting something from this?" he says.

"How did you—"

"I can sense Curses and Cursed Energy," he interrupts. "Just not the way you guys do. This thing was radiating like a nuclear bomb." He steps toward her and lurches jerks back, but she can barely see straight. She stumbles, and Fushiguro catches her by the waist.

"Darling," he says loudly, "you're injured, I'm taking you to the hospital." Either because everyone in the station is an idiot who believes him or because everyone thinks they shouldn't get involved with the yakuza, they let him throw her over his shoulder and carry her outside. Yuna's head spins and she dry heaves.

"Hey, now, these are my nice pants," he mutters. "It won't be too long. My guy's waiting just a few blocks over. Don't puke all over me before then."

Yuna watches vindictively as her blood drips on the back of his jeans instead.

She closes her eyes and feels the thrum of each of Fushiguro's heavy steps, hears the bustling of traffic and throngs of people pass idly by as she is being kidnapped. Fushiguro's right. What's the point of getting rid of curses when humans do so much worse?

It feels like hours before he stops and tosses her onto the ground. Her head bangs against a stack of empty wooden crates, adding a dull throb to the stinging pain shooting over her face. She opens her eyes blearily and reads "Daikon" on one of the crates' peeling label.

"As promised, one mysterious experimental success," she hears Fushiguro say above her. "Alive and…"

"If you say unharmed," another male voice says above her, "we should review your basic vocabulary."

"I was gonna say 'in one piece,' which technically, she is."

"The Kamo mistress will be fine with it. She has no use for her face."

"Figures."

Yuna lifts her head. Fushiguro is joined by a shorter man with a heavy mustache but prominent bald spot. He wears a Western suit, tailored and expensive, down to his finely polished shoes. He looks at her like she is a carton of daikon.

"I thought you didn't do the Great Families' dirty work," she rasps.

"It's not work sanctioned by the head, just his wife," shrugs Fushiguro. "He wants you dead, she wants you alive. Lucky you, eh?"

After the Kamos' visit to the school, Yuna understands why. Satoru had called the heir a bastard, after all.

Yuna's hands are covered in sticky, congealed blood. She feels disgusting. Her head is pounding. But her head wound is her only wound. She looks worse than she is, and powerful men always underestimate the limits she is willing to break in order to survive.

She presses her palms together and allows the Cursed Energy to flow into her arms again. An immense calmness overcomes her, washing out all her pain, her anger, her fear. What had she taught her students?

Domain Expansions are often activated in unusual circumstances with even the smallest trigger, but often occurs at the brink of death. Unearthed from the desire to survive is the fundamental understanding of an individual's Technique and its preferred conditions. The Domain Expansion often reflects the truest meaning of a sorcerer's will, even if the sorcerer himself does not yet recognize it.

Her bloodied index fingers hover.

"Domain Expansion," Yuna utters.

The world becomes an expanse of black.

Toji cannot move. Cannot breathe. Cannot blink. Every single cell in his body is frozen in place. In this world of pure, absolute darkness, he watches as the Jujutsu High teacher sends another Blast of Cursed Energy, laced with blood, through the Kamo representative—it punctures through his torso, leaving a gaping wound the size of a baseball right through his heart. The man collapses onto the ground, gurgling blood.

Morimoto slowly walks over to Toji. She looks like Sadako from The Ring.

"Blast didn't work well on you earlier. You must have a strong resistance to Cursed Energy, unlike your friend." She wrenches the knife out of his hand. "I came up with a theory. Blast depends on my Cursed Energy maximum, which is not enough against you. But the strength of Freeze and Sleep," she gestures to two corresponding characters on her arm, "depends on the relative difference in Cursed Energy between me and my opponent. You can imagine it's not useful against strong curses—it's a hard spell to hit, and even if I do, at most, I can Freeze them for a second or two. Against someone with no Cursed Energy, though, it reaches its maximum length. Three minutes."

She presses the tip of the knife over Toji's heart, breaking skin.

"I imagine you are someone who can hold his breath for three minutes, so I don't think it's enough to kill you." She looks up at him, drenched in her own blood, her eyes onyx but alight. "It's best not to take any chances. I hope it hurts, at least."

She pushes the knife through his chest, slowly, and though pain shoots through Toji's body, he is unable to vocalize it. His jaw is glued shut and his facial muscles cannot even twitch. Still, she stares into his eyes as she presses the blade in, searching from something, and he knows she's found it when he sees it, barely there—a smile.

"I'll see you in hell, Fushiguro-san."

The black melts away. Morimoto staggers out of the alleyway, leaving a trail of blood and Toji, bleeding, not breathing, behind.