Mahito slinks around the corner. Under the moonlight, his pale skin shines, a stark contrast to the dark alley. It is not like Jogo to hide away in the shadows, Mahito thinks, not with that oversized ego of his. Huh? He squints his gray and blue eyes. Moves closer. Perhaps he should change into something smaller? He isn't quite sure that he can do that, but it would be helpful if he could.

The person–a human? Why would Jogo out of all of them be dealing with a human that is not Geto? Ah, this person is a woman, he surmises, though he did not believe that it was in a curses' nature to be partial. Mind games were more of his thing.

"This will have to suffice you for now," the woman says, her voice airy, without any regard to her wellbeing.

A curse user then? The dark-haired woman is far too relaxed, or maybe she is just that stupid. Humans tend to think of themselves as better, smarter than they actually are. The woman deposits a bag into Jogo's awaiting palms. He can make out some type of plant in the bag. Jogo must not want Hanami to know that he has no regard for plant life.

"This will barely do the trick! How am I supposed to–" Jogo splutters. His hands grip the woman's arm as the bag falls down near his feet.

Mahito scrunches up his nose. Decisions, decisions, decisions. Should he step in and help? It is Jogo's own fault for reacting so rashly, honestly; he thought the curse would have learned something after rushing in to fight Gojo Satoru. But if this curse user exorcizes him, then it could affect their plans.

"Watch your tone, vermin," the woman says, lifting Jogo up with ease and pulling him in closer to her. "Does it bother you to know how easily I can crush you? So pathetic." She drops him, dusts her hands.

"Fucking bitch," Jogo says, coughing. He struggles to his feet, grabbing the bag as he stands.

There's a rise in temperature, the heat just as visible as Jogo's anger. Mahito smiles as the sound of screams reach his ears. The people walking by get caught up in the heat. He resists the urge to look back and watch their bodies burn. He probably should step in to help.

"Jogo-kun, why are you always picking fights?" Mahito asks, stepping out from the shadows. He delights in the annoyance that marks the woman's face. Her eyes are as red as blood, he thinks, fitting for how much of it he plans on spilling. "Such a hothead."

"What are you doing here?" Jogo asks. Fire leaks out of the top of his head.

"You curses are so annoying," the woman says, "I'll just end both of you." She raises a hand. Yellow shards burst out of her palms.

What an interesting technique, Mahito thinks as he jumps to the side, and then dashes towards hers. As much as he likes to play with his toys, he really has other things to do. Geto promised to pick up a new board game. A wide smile spreads across his face as he grabs the woman's arm.

"Such insolence," she mutters, as her other hand raises and claws his face.

Claws? Mahito winces, steps back, but keeps his hand attached to her arm. "You actually managed to hurt me. My, what a strong human, you've found." The marks on his face stings, the fact that she was able to hurt him, gives him pause. "Do you like board games?"

"Do I what?" She narrows those blood-red eyes at him. Her lips are drawn into a frown.

"We could play forever," he says. He can tell the exact moment that his idle transfiguration starts to work. She screams and tries to pull her arm back while her other arm rears back to repeatedly claw at his face.

"No!" Jogo cries out.

Huh? Mahito turns his head to look back at Jogo. The woman's body gives out and transforms into a neat little square. He clasps his hands around his newly made board. "What's your deal?" When Jogo does not respond, he continues, "Say, what kind of game do you think she should be? Should probably get some markers to draw in the boxes, and some dice too. Oh, we'll need figures so we know who is who." He holds out the board, tilts his head. "Let's stop at a game shop on the way back. I'm sure one of the associates would love to contribute."

"Change her back."

"Is she important? She threatened to kill you." Mahito lowers the board. "What's so special about a human? There's plenty of them around."

"She isn't human."

"Then what is she?" He lets out an embarrassing yelp at the blue flames engulfing his hand and his newly made board. He drops the board and pats his arm. The alley lights up in a blue hue. The smell of burning flesh hits his nose. How does Jogo deal with such an awful smell all the time? Oh, that's right, he doesn't have a nose. Mahito laughs, ignoring the confusion Jogo directs his way. No wonder Jogo is always so hot-headed.

"I said to change her back, not kill her." Jogo walks over to him and kicks at the burned board.

"I guess her body just gave out." He shrugs. Why should he be concerned about some human's life?

"She was only a half-breed."

"Half-breed? She looked fully Japanese to me."

"I forget how young you are."

The board shakes and twists. Limbs stretch out as it elongates. Mahito bends down and stares. How interesting that in death, she was able to turn back. He wonders just how far can he push the human body? Was he too sloppy, or was she really just that weak? The stash of configured humans in his pockets reminds him that, no, his technique is not sloppy. What he needs is another sorcerer or curse user to test out his theory.

"Let's go, we don't need any more of her kind showing up." Jogo turns and walks away, puffs of smoke blow from his head.

Honestly, why is he so upset over a human? Mahito rises and moves to follow. A hand grabs his ankle. Searing pain courses through his veins. He grits his teeth and looks back down, tugging his foot free. The woman looks at him, her once pale skin now the color of ash.

"You've been marked," she whispers, her eyes shutting once more.

"Hurry and get rid of that mark," Jogo says, hobbling back over to him. His eye is wide with traces of fear.

Mahito looks at the X that has been etched into his skin. X marks the spot, he thinks, silently laughing at his own joke.

"Get rid of it!"

"Jogo-kun, this is why you don't have friends. You should work on that temper," Mahito chastises. He bends down and digs into the flesh of his ankle and tosses the marked skin onto the pavement. "What's the big deal, anyway?"

Jogo picks up the discarded skin and burns it. "We can't draw too much attention to us. At least not until Geto's plan goes into effect."

"I fail to see how these humans can stop us. Except for Gojo Satoru, everyone else is weak."

"It's not the humans that I'm concerned about."

Not the humans? Mahito looks back at the dead woman. She looks pretty human to him. She certainly died like one.

"Let's go. They'll come looking for her. They have some weird sense of knowing when one of them has died." Jogo motions for him to follow.

"Actually, I've got some other things to take care of," Mahito says, "I want to do some more research." He walks past Jogo. The scratches on his face have yet to heal, and it is just a teensy bit annoying.

"Mahito," Jogo calls out, "this stays between us."

Mahito turns and regards his fellow curse. There is a seriousness in Jogo's eye that he's never encountered before. He smiles, showing off his teeth. "Of course. I won't let it slip how you have a drug problem."

Jogo splutters and folds his arms. "Thank you." He walks out of the alley, leaving Mahito behind.

Mahito glances back at the burned body. He whistles a soft melody he overheard at a coffee shop. He thinks he'll set up a trap and test out his theory on one of the sorcerers.

A/N: Thank you everyone for leaving reviews and for still enjoying the story so far. Have a great weekend!