It's early morning at Jujutsu Technical Institute as Maki Zen-in steps into the hall, twisting the handle of her door to keep the latch from catching too loudly.
It's only a little past 3 am. Truthfully it's the only time she has to herself for any form of peaceful meditation. She takes advantage of these rare moments of solitude by enjoying her coffee near one of the open garden windows. Watching the deep shadows of night fading into pale gray helped keep herself grounded. Simple routines were important to maintain sanity, and Maki's morning ritual sustained her peace amidst the chaos of their duties. She's used to being awake at this ungodly hour for her shifts, however the smell of food cooking is an odd surprise to her this morning. No one else is ever in the kitchen this early.
Rounding the corner and seeing a familiar white uniform jacket, Maki finds Yuta Okkotsu busy cracking eggs into a mixing bowl. He must have been assigned one of the early shifts too. She clears her throat to get his attention gently but he startles anyway.
"Oh- Miss Zen'in! Did I wake you up? Sorry about the mess, I'm almost finished." He stammers, clearly not expecting anyone else to be up yet.
Having had little social interaction for the majority of his life, Yuta was always anxious around other people, but it was particularly bad whenever he was around his former teammate.
Thankfully she only scoffs a little at his formality. It's reassuring to see how some things never change. "I thought I was the only early riser around here."
"Hehe.. Y-yep. I thought I'd make my team's breakfast today," he briskly responds while turning the heat down on the pan before oiling it.
She peers over his shoulder, noting how much he's making. "Wow. Ten eggs? That's alot for just two people."
"Actually, the extra is for Itadori. Today is our first mission together."
Her hopes for a free breakfast plummet.
"Oh, that's right. I heard that the moron really went and got himself re-posessed again on his own. So you're being assigned as his bodyguard or something because of Sukuna's return?"
Yuta's lips press to a thin line. News traveled fast after the school's most volatile student went awol just to return with another finger of Sukuna in his stomach. Not long afterward, Yuta was summoned to Masamichi's office in the middle of the night to be briefed on his grim new assignment.
"Mm. Not exactly. The term used was 'conduct officer.' Meaning if itadori loses control of his body and Sukuna were to take over completely, I have to be with him to…um, deal with it."
At once Maki regretted the harshness of her choice of words. "Jesus. That's fucking depressing. Then you're actually guarding everyone else from Sukuna."
"Yeah. So I thought making breakfast for us would be a better way to get things started off on the right foot."
She frowns at eggs cooking in the pan. "Uh-huh. And an omelet is supposed to make up for the fact that you may have to kill him?"
Yuta pauses. "Do you have a better idea?"
"I dunno. We're talking about life and death here. You could add some meat or mushrooms or something? Honestly I think waffles would be a more suitable choice. They're more symbolic of how everything hangs in precarious balance right now. But in the end, if you do have to put him down, I doubt he'll be thinking of the time you made food for him."
Yuta groans out loud. She's right. This is a really stupid consolation. Nonetheless he checks the fridge for sliced ham, carefully keeping his gaze diverted the entire time.
"You know… You don't have to keep avoiding me," Maki sighs while crossing her arms.
Yuta feels his face flush at once. He'd been caught.
"Avoiding? You? Me? I'm not avoiding anybody. I've just been busy."
She cocks an eyebrow and scoffs. "Too busy to even say hello to your old teammate? It's been nearly two weeks since you've been back, and you haven't so much as made eye contact with me."
He half-glances in her direction before turning back to the stove.
"I… I didn't think you'd notice. Or care for that matter. Besides, I didn't want to bother you."
Now her expression softens somewhat. "You never bothered me. What bothers me is you acting too scared to be in the same room as me. So let's talk about it."
Yuta swallows down his nerves and turns the heat down low. The itMaki is referring to was of course his rejection. Maki's fearlessness and strength left such a tremendous first impression on him when he was first enrolled. After he realized her initial abrasiveness came from her own drive and not any particular disdain for him personally, Yuta found himself developing a rather intense crush. Unfortunately it was doomed to be one-sided. The embarrassment he felt after confessing his attraction to her never truly went away. Especially after she had to explain to him that boys weren't exactly on her radar.
"There's nothing to talk about," Yuta mumbles.
Again Maki can only smile at the way his cheeks deepen when he fibs. "Well… At any rate, you and Toge are a pretty good match. You didn't forget all of your old teammates it seems. Have you two been having fun rekindling your old flames?"
Yuta's eyes go wide and his jaw drops. Quickly he diverts his attention back to the eggs, rapidly flipping them in the air to keep them from sticking. "Huh?! What are you talking about? We're just friends! And anyway that kind of fraternizing within student dorms has always been discouraged anyway! HAHAHA! You kidder, you!"
With a smile she plucks a few grapes from a bowl of fruit on the counter and pops one into her mouth. "Heh. That sure didn't stop you from shooting your shot with me. And I won't tell on you. God, relax, will you?"
His frantic expression only tightens further as he blushes. "Haha-HA! What would you even have to tell anybody? Because there's nothing to say!"
"Oh? Then I guess I've been imagining those clapping sounds coming from across the hallway at night. Or do you think maybe we've got rats who like to screw at 3 am?" she suggests with a laugh, watching even the tips of his ears turn bright pink.
He shakes his head in absolute denial. "Nope! We're just… rearranging his furniture! His bed is waaay too heavy to move, so we have to do it little by little!"
"Yeah right. With your hips maybe," she giggles.
Yuta is at a loss for words now, sinking down between his own shoulders. "I… I'm so sorry. We'll be much more quiet from now on. I swear."
Maki rolls her eyes and leans against the counter. "I just said I don't friggin' care! At least they've got you staying in the same wing as your boyfriend. Kugisaki and I have to sneak back and forth between halls if we want to see each other after curfew. We've almost gotten caught a few times too, so if you ever hear any noises from her room at night, no you didn't. Just mind your business and I'll keep turning a deaf ear for you two."
Embarrassed beyond belief now, Yuta continues over-flipping the eggs until Maki finally turns off the heat herself to save them. "Relax, Yuta. I'm happy for you. Both of you. Maybe Toge will even stop hiding away in his room when he isn't on a mission and join us again sometime. That guy's been a ghost lately."
"Mm. Yeah. He mostly just sleeps when his abilities aren't needed. I guess this last year was really tough on everybody in its own way. But I'm happy to hear that you've met someone special too," he comments with a smile. He means it too.
Finally ambling over to the coffeemaker, Maki generously fills the water reserve, making sure there's plenty for everyone. She presses the start button and watches as the trickling drip begins.
"So what's your plan for keeping Sukuna under control while you're out? You do have a plan if something goes wrong, right?"
Yuta nods. "For the most part. Yuji has the hardest job since his body contains Sukuna's cursed energy without it affecting him negatively. And if there's any threat of that control slipping, I have these."
He produces a small wrapped bundle of rice papers marked with bold sweeping characters in calligraphy. A braided red cord is tied around them to keep the bundle rolled tight in his pocket. "Gojo says they can subdue Sukuna temporarily when applied to any of his vital points."
"Mm. They used those before on his other vessel too. The, uh, one who got away?" Maki mentions pointedly, not trying to be rude. Facts are simply facts to her.
"Oh… I wasn't aware of that." He stares down at them again. Shit. Clearly there were details his sensei left out.
She continues while peeling an orange in one spiraling motion.
"They had those things plastered all over the walls of the prison they kept Sukuna's vessel in. He still ripped right through Itadori's guts."
The color drains from Yuta's face. Was Sukuna's second vessel weaker to resisting his murderous urges then?
"I'm sure you'll be fine. You're the one that's been entrusted with him because you're the big shot Special grade. Just don't let Itadori out of your sight once you're off campus. Got it? He has deserter's eyes these days, and two rogue vessels is the last thing we need."
Deserter's eyes? What does she mean by that? Yuta ponders her words while folding the omelets in half and sliding them onto plates. Then, disliking how dark this conversation is getting, he opts to change the subject instead.
"Um, how's your sister doing? Mai?"
Maki seems to noticeably take offense. Her coffee spoon clangs loudly in the sink as she discards it. "She's fine. She's still at the hospital."
Right away he regrets asking something so personal. "Oh. I'm sorry."
"Why? It's where she needs to be right now. Otherwise they'd sign her release forms and clear her to return to work. But until then, she needs this break whether she wants it or not. This isn't exactly an easy career. Most sorcerers don't have a choice in the matter of whether or not we want to do it." She sips her coffee, putting on the mask of poise she maintains so well under pressure.
"You can say that again," Yuta laughs darkly. No one in their right mind would choose a life like this. The only solace is knowing they're making a difference, even a miniscule one. And giving up just isn't an option.
A hissing of back and forth whispers in the hall turn their attention toward the doorway. Itadori and Fushiguro must be awake and also arguing about something. It didn't take much these days to start their lovers' quarrels.
Maki picks up her cup and unlocks the sliding glass door to the garden. "Sounds like my cue to take my morning coffee outside. I hate to start my day with negativity. Have fun with Itadori. I hope he likes your executioner's omelet."
She shuts the door closed behind her, leaving Yuta feeling very foolish about this pitiful peace offering. He can hear snippets of the argument coming from the hall growing gradually louder. Fushiguro is definitely upset about something, being the louder of the two.
"I know you cut something off the last strip! Why are you lying to me?"
"I don't know what you're talking about. That's the way it was when we found it."
"Bullshit! There would have been a blank negative at the end of the roll and it wasn't there! So what did you do!?"
A long pause follows before Itadori replies. "It was dark. Maybe it got ripped off at the park and we just didn't realize it."
"I swear to God… You can't start hiding things from me right now!"
"Me? What about you!? Telling them to turn themselves in?! What the fuck is wrong with you!? You know what would happen if they get brought back here! Is that what you want?"
Yuta gulps and looks around in a panic. It feels wrong to be hearing their conversation like this. Growing concerned, Yuta decides to make his presence known to avoid hearing something he shouldn't, and turns on the sink faucet to begin loudly washing dishes.
Immediately the sounds from the hall go silent. He counts the seconds ticking by until he hears footsteps approaching.
"Hey," greets Itadori. He looks like hell, but under current circumstances, it's plenty understandable.
"Good morning! I, uh, made breakfast for us!" He gestures to the ham and cheese omelet sitting across from him at the countertop with a smile.
"Thanks. I appreciate it, but I'm not really all that hungry." Itadori takes out a coffee cup from the cupboard and fills it, skipping cream and sugar entirely today and drinking it black.
"Oh. Alright. I can just wrap this up for later then?" Yuta offers.
"Sure. Thanks. I'll be waiting up front for the car to pick us up. If that's okay with you?"
He glances back, meeting the older boy's gaze for the first time. The tired look in his eyes means he had little or no sleep last night whatsoever. The redness around his lashes told Yuta that he'd also spent hours crying.
"That's fine. We're just waiting for our instructions from Gojo Sensei." he agrees, even though he isn't sure it's fine at all.
His instructions were not to let Itadori out of his sight, but he allows the obviously troubled sorcerer to leave anyway. Fushiguro fails to make an appearance whatsoever. He must have gone back to his room. What could they have been fighting about in the hallway?
After hurriedly eating, Yuta packs the rest of the leftovers. Expecting Itadori to be a morning person today was a bad call. They're about to have many long and clearly uncomfortable shifts together for the extended foreseeable future, and obviously neither one of them is happy about this arrangement.
Silently he wonders if waffles might have been better instead.
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At the same time across town, in the darkness of the church attic you've come to call home, the sounds of passion echo through the empty halls.
There were many things Ryomen Sukuna truly missed about having a body of his own. His secondary arms, his unbridled well of cursed energy… but despite how far his earthen vessel falls short of his true body, it does graciously restore to him several joys of the flesh. The breath of the wind, the glow of the sun's radiance, and more importantly, the caress of your hands.
No longer rebuffed, your Curse indulges in the freedom of kissing and touching you as often as he can. Not an hour can pass without him giving in to this privilege. Your body calls to him, tempting him to cradle even just the small of your back with the grazing of fingertips as you're passing by. Knowing you're deliberately walking within his reach now is surely mending the bond you once had. At any moment, a certain mischievous twinkling in your eyes would beckon Sukuna closer. Lips would brush and soft whispers exchanged before you or he would take Junpei by the hand as well, leading the way to the futon mattress upstairs. These escapes were often prolonged throughout most of the day and lasting well into the night.
Sukuna held no resentment at sharing you with Junpei, feeling none of his previous jealousy toward your bond with someone other than himself. The only important thing is that you're happy now and once again allowing him to touch and hold you. This was more than enough to satisfy your Curse's aching needs. Besides the sight of the two of you clinging to one another as he enters you both simultaneously fills him with ecstasy. It overflows within him whenever he takes delicate flesh between his teeth, licking and sucking until rewarded with cries of delight from above. He treasured both yours and Junpei's sounds equally. If your eyes begged him for a kiss, he responds accordingly. When your hands deliver his own to Junpei's supple waist, he grips where he's told, relishing in showing just how tame he can be under your command.
Even his long-standing obsession with keeping his head above all others quickly wore down. Instead of using the second mouth within his palm to please you, he attends to your every wish on bended knees, eager to prove this second chance you've allowed him will be his redemption.
In moments just like these…
"Hah!...hah!"
Your voice rings out unabashedly, sending nearly the entire roost of vagrant birds above fluttering away in a flurry. Every swipe of Sukuna's tongue between your thighs earns another rich moan from you. He keeps his hands busy with exploring the softness of your thighs. Although his mouth is much too busy to sp3ak, his precious names for you abound in his mind.
Beloved… Darling… Angel…
Each one falls short of his true feelings. How can a mere word capture the way his soul blossoms around you? Your smell drugs his senses, driving his tongue deeper. He's inebriated from the motions of your body. If only there were a way for him to drink you in completely…
"Gently," a hushed voice begs softly.
Sukuna looks up. Junpei? But.. just a moment ago it was you lying beneath him. Did he get confused in the dark? No, his nose would never get your scent wrong. How did you change places while he was pleasuring you?
"Master… please be more gentle," Junpei whimpers in a suddenly frail voice which gives your Curse further pause.
"Is it too much?" He asks this while looking down again, suddenly realizing that the boy's stomach is slick beneath his palms. Did his servant reach climax already without making a sound? Then a strong smell hits his nose. Metallic. Sharp. Visceral.
The smell of blood.
Looking down in panic, he can see his servant's body has been torn away at its midsection, leaving Sukuna hip-deep in warm gore. A hammerblow of fear seizes him. What has he done?
He recoils, desperately snatching the boy up into his arms but the weightlessness of Junpei's torso is so horrific that he drops him back to the floor. His hands are shaking. Violently his own stomach lurches and his throat tightens. Unsure of what else to do, Sukuna shouts your name, pleading for you to help him. A weak hand on his forearm beckons him to look down. Junpei's sweet smile and his eyes which no longer hold their light still react somehow, looking beyond his master.
"They're already gone."
His servant points a trembling finger over Sukuna's shoulder, filling the Curse with a cold quiet dread. There, lying crumpled in the corner, he can make out the mangled remains of your corpse. Your eyes are hollow and empty, your mouth hanging open.
Sukuna's expression mirrors yours and he begins to scream.
. . .
A jolting muscle spasm shakes your Curse so violently that he rolls from the futon onto the hard floor with a heavy Thud! His eyes are wide as he lays with his cheek pressed against rough dry wood. Gradually he reassures himself that what he saw wasn't real, a mere trick of the mind.
A piney citrus smell reaches his nose and at once he knows what the source is. He glances around the floorboards and finds a small glass bottle. The powerful scent of the frankincense oil inside must have triggered his nightmare. He'd found the bottle among others in the basement and decided it would make due as a lubricant when Junpei approached him intimately. Having had no dreams in over a millenia, Sukuna foolishly forgot the smell could also trigger vivid nightmares.
Sitting upright with a grunt, he touches his chin before checking his fingers. Nothing. No blood. While searching his mouth with his tongue, he fails to find any lingering taste of it. His stomach rolls nonetheless, twisting in a mix of disgust… and terrible hunger.
He takes a long deep breath and tries to steady his trembling hands before carefully checking over Junpei's slumbering form lying beside him. His naked skin appears unmarred thankfully, other than a light reddish bruise on the side of his neck. A testament of his performance, from your lips to his skin.
He's fine. Good.
Quickly he turns his attention to you, pulling away the tapestry covering your body. A single large bite mark stands out upon your shoulder. Wincing with remorse, Sukuna covers the area with his palm and summons his reversed curse technique. This slight tingling sensation of your wound healing is just enough to rouse you from slumber. Your eyes meet as you slowly wake. Noting the fearful expression Sukuna greets you with, you sleepily voice concern with a semi-delirious groan. You reach for his hand, but he pulls back.
Your brow knits curiously. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." He sits beside you, his gaze shifting away. You can hear the heavy cadence of his breathing. Your hand strokes down his back, offering comfort.
"Did you have a bad dream?"
"I can't dream." The words form before he can stop them. What he meant to say was that he didn't have dreams. Darkness and silence were all he had to look forward to whenever he chose to rest, which wasn't very often to begin with. There was a time when he used to dream, but that was so long ago that it was quite literally another life.
Suddenly your touch on his skin is overwhelming for him at this moment. He stands and reaches for his kimono, dressing himself while you watch with more questions building by the minute.
Your Curse regards you again, kneeling and placing his hand upon your shoulder. "Rest. Keep Junpei warm. Don't worry, all is well."
Somehow hearing his words aloud only makes him more aware of his suspicious behavior. Truthfully the way your eyes are following him is too much to bear after the horrible visions he suffered.
"Where are you going?" you whisper.
Sukuna pulls away, hiding his expression. "The garden. I… need to eat."
You watch him depart through the attic latch then roll onto your other side to cuddle closer to Junpei, who has yet to wake up. Kissing the back of his neck causes his shoulders to rise and shrug pleasantly in response. He hums lightly and you hear him yawn, but he's too reluctant to end this delicate touch from you and wills himself back into unconsciousness. You sigh and stroke his back, tracing the lines of taught muscle while trying not to let your mind wander to your Curse's guarded demeanor. There's no real reason for you to get up just yet. Sukuna wouldn't leave the premises on his own, would he?
That thought spins on its axis in your mind as you lie awake, listening to the scurry of pigeons on the rooftop above you and the gentle flow of Junpei's peaceful breathing.
.
.
.
In the peaceful twilight in the garden below, Sukuna is battling against the darkest facets of his nature. Something within him was awakened by that nightmare and regardless of his feelings toward you and Junpei, he hates how much he can't trust himself around either of you right now.
The steel gray color of the sky is promising the sun's return soon and frigid morning dew clings to the silk of his kimono sleeves, forming sparkling frozen droplets. He surveys over the garden walls, sighing heavily and raking a clawed hand through his hair. The cold air is slowly grounding him back into reality, leaving the awful visions behind in the shadows of his subconsciousness. Wind shifts the branches of the trees overhead, creaking them gently in place in a soothing song. His stomach lurches again and a shudder runs down his spine, prickling goosebumps along his flesh. One of the negative aspects of having a body once again is experiencing his own physical disgust.
Why did his mind have to play such an awful trick on him? The only emotions he's been experiencing lately are happy ones, which is a bit odd in and of itself. Sukuna can't recall the last time he was this content. It seems entirely unnatural except that it's because of you. Your presence alone has been the one thing that brings him peace. Why is he seeing these horrible things now? The last thing he would ever do is harm you or Junpei willingly.
He kneels, plucking a sprig of a soft, silvery mugwort. Its rich perfume fills his nose as he crushes the leaves between his fingers before consuming it. He takes extra to be certain he has enough for its full effect, tucking the stems into the pocket of his sleeve for later. He swallows the medicine dutifully, wishing it could wipe his mind effectively while he's awake. Nothing can cleanse his palette from what it truly desires.
Blood.
The twisted craving settled in like a quiet sudden sickness, sending pangs through his stomach at the very thought of the heartiness of human meat. No matter how he tries to ignore this hard truth, he has an undeniable longing to taste blood again. The joy of tearing sinews and muscle, feeling the pulse of life vanishing beneath his tongue… It was an adrenaline rush to which no other substance could hold a candle's flame. There isn't anything in this garden or any other that can truly satisfy this endless hunger. All the same he picks the reddest pomegranate he can find and splits it open. His sharp teeth sink into the ruby seeds and juices run down his neck in creeping streams. He tells himself repeatedly that this is enough and swallows.
He hears footsteps approaching. Immediately he's able to tell by the cadence that it's you coming to check on him. Fixing his features to appear stoic, he turns to face you, but a soft surprised exhale slips from his lips when he sees the way you're dressed. You're finally wearing the new kimono he created for you. The deep blue silk fits your body perfectly, displaying tiny silvery stars as well as the different phases of the moon. Your obi is a flash of gold honeycomb pattern around your waist, one end still being held in place by your hand.
You greet him with a bashful smile, noting how he's staring at you. "Would you help me tie this? Please?"
"Yes. Of course."
His voice is a deep whisper. Seeing you illuminated in the last veil of night like this is unexpectedly comforting, especially if you are accepting his gift at last. He slips behind you, taking enough of the obi's length to carefully shape an elegant bow upon your lower back. Once finished, his hand lowers to your hip, holding you here as he rests his forehead upon your shoulder.
"You look magnificent."
"Thank you. I think I may like this one even more than the first kimono you made for me." Your fingers slip over his and you lean back against his chest for warmth. The two of you stand together in brief silence, taking in the peaceful stillness of the garden before any of the birds awaken.
"Are you going to tell me what really made you come down here by yourself?" you ask softly but expectantly.
Sukuna shifts slightly, pulling you closer in his arms for a firm embrace. He rests his cheek against yours, counting your breaths. There's no sense lying further.
"It was a nightmare…"
"But you said that you couldn't–"
"I know. I lied. Please forgive me. I was… unnerved."
Your Curse sounds so very unlike himself. His words are clipped, betraying the shame he feels.
"I see. Well, what was your dream about?"
His head shakes from side to side, his arms squeezing tighter around your waist in reluctance.
"You don't want to talk about it? It must have been pretty bad then." You give a sympathetic smile as you turn around to face him. Seeing the worry lines etched in his forehead, you reach to trace over them with your fingertips.
"It's alright, because it wasn't real. Nightmares can't hurt you."
His jaw clenches tight and he captures your hand with his own.
"No… But I could hurt you."
His sudden austerity takes you by surprise. It must have been something truly awful to turn his mood this sullen. The corner of his mouth twitches as you brush your thumb over the jagged markings beneath his chin.
"Yes, you could, but I know you won't." You nuzzle into his chest, letting him hold you as close as he needs. You hear him sigh heavily while he slowly begins to stroke your hair.
"How can you be so certain? You've only just begun to trust me again," he points out.
As if you'd forgotten.
You cup his cheek with your palm, caressing beneath his secondary eye as it blinks slowly closed. "Yes, but I do trust that you won't do anything to me or Junpei."
At the mention of Junpei, immediately the image of his intestines smeared up Sukuna's stomach flashes back into his mind. The memory of the taste of warm blood easily seeped onto his tongue even in slumber. How can he pretend the desire isn't haunting him, tempting him at this very moment to take the barest tip of one of your delicate fingers between his teeth?
His behavior troubles you. Something is wrong. Something deeper than just bad dreams. Why else would he be avoiding your eyes this way?
"Ryomen…"
You feel him react to his name, squeezing your hand and clenching his jaw without opening his eyes.
"Ryomen, I've been thinking alot about us."
He exhales heavily, not daring to let even a single one of his hopes rise. His hand never leaves yours, keeping it against his cheek as he prepares for the worst. "You have?"
"Yes. Specifically I've been thinking about our contract."
"Our– What?" He's so surprised by your words that all of his eyes snap open and meet your gaze.
You smile softly, taking the other side of his face to hold him securely.
"Do you remember our rules we made for one another?"
"Of course I do. But why would you…" Sukuna's voice trails off. He feels such shame at the thought of his betrayal to you through those rules. He hates thinking about it.
You can see the shine of tears in his eyes. He has to catch his breath before he can reply, his voice a bare whisper.
"I'm listening…"
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The brisk predawn air steamed Yuji's breath into thick clouds as he trudged out of the dormitory building to the front gate. He's exhausted but eager to get this shift underway, even if he has to pound caffeine all day long to keep alert.
Wake up, stupid!
He shakes his head and rubs his eyes in annoyance. Today is way too important to be feeling this shitty. Sleep has been impossible for a multitude of reasons. There was Sukuna of course, who spewed insults and threats all night long, tormenting his host's dreams with horrific visions of violence to ensure any rest achieved would only drain him emotionally. Feeding off misery is his only entertainment, especially after Fushiguro chose to move back into his own room. Although the shadow user had his viable reasons, it didn't remove the pain of Yuji being left alone.
Their argument this morning only made things worse. Fushiguro was too devastated by his partner's brash decisions to remember the film they'd picked up at the amusement park. Your energy was found there, meaning you'd been the last to use the photo booth. When Yuji checked the negatives to see the last image taken, he found what he was looking for. As well as something he wasn't.
Fushiguro's accusations were correct. Itadori trimmed off the last images from the negatives so no one else would have to see what he saw. The charges against you were a mountain already. Something like this would only condemn you further. As if still in doubt, Itadori reaches into the inner pocket of his uniform jacket, staring down at the pictures that kept him awake. His heartbeat pounds in his ears and his throat tightens as if it were being squeezed. When he sees your smiling face, his eyes fill with tears. Despite the pain in his chest, he can't help smiling back a little… until he focuses on the two other people on either side of you. The unexpectedness of Ryomen Sukuna himself sitting outside of your body nearly stops his heart in arrest. How can your Curse possibly exist without a vessel to contain his soul? It doesn't make any sense, but neither does the horribly familiar face sitting on the opposite side of the booth
From the recesses of his mind, Sukuna chuckles with cruel amusement.
"See anyone you know? Hehehe…"
Yujis fingers tremble as panic and confusion once again overshadow his relief, and he quickly stuffs the negatives back into his jacket. The sound of footsteps crunching along the walkway startles him suddenly. He turns around, surprised to find Yaga Masamichi, looking as tense as ever and striding with purpose in each step.
"Itadori…" his headmaster appraises him with taught lines around his mouth.
Uh-oh. He's clearly peeved already about something.
Straightening up respectfully, he bows in polite greeting. "Good morning. I wanted to be the first one to–"
Masamichi cuts him off with a raised hand. "Regardless of what you were intending, in the future you should wait inside for someone to accompany you outside. The front courtyard is no longer permissible to you without an escort."
"Oh. Uh, understood…" he mutters, knowing he has no say in the matter any longer.
Masamichi lays a hand briefly on the boy's shoulder.
"Try not to take it personally. You still have free range of most of the campus, as long as it's not an area touching any adjacent forestry. I hope that's of some comfort to you."
Yuji bows again, this time mustering only a simple nod of his chin. "Yes, sir. Thank you."
The older man scans the courtyard expectantly, looking impatient. "Where's Yuta Okkotsu?"
"Right here! Present!" The special grade sorcerer calls out while quickening his pace down the front steps behind them, holding a small pack of food and shouldering his katana onto his back. He joins Yuji's side dutifully, offering a quiet apology to his superior for running late.
"While we're waiting for your final teammate, I'll have a few details to go over," Masamichi announces.
Another teammate? Nobody bothered telling me… Yuji grates to himself. Are they really wasting another sorcerer's time just to babysit him?
A sinister laugh bubbles up from the backseat of his mind yet again to taunt him. "Hahaha! They'll need all the help they can get. Your screw-up is now everyone else's problem. I'm sure they must really appreciate it. That's why Megumi-chan can't stand the sight of you."
"Shush!" He hisses while gripping a folded talisman he has in his pocket. It keeps the worst of Sukuna's surface activity lulled thankfully, but his internal monologue never shuts up.
"You will be under Yuta's supervision while you are off school premises. If it is reported at any point that you are deemed no longer fit to perform your duties…" Masamichi pauses to look at his watch, marking that it's still only a few minutes past 4 am.
"Christ, it's too damn early for this kind of talk. Do I need to finish that sentence for clarity?"
With agony Yuji swallows down his resentment, fighting to keep his expression neutral. "No, sir. There won't be any trouble."
"Good. Because there are several people in power who have strong negative opinions about you being reinstated to work in light of your recent actions. Though I suppose you have your own personal reasons for choosing to become Sukuna's vessel?"
He nods assuredly. "I.. I want a second chance to do what I first promised I would do: to eat every finger of Sukuna and take his Curse with me to my grave. I don't want anyone else suffering because I failed to keep my word."
This seems to satisfy Masamichi. He takes a folder from under his arm and hands it over. "Review this on your way into the city. You'll need to catch up on the details from our progress on tracking Sukuna's rogue vessel. Gojo informed me that you already took it upon yourself to investigate the last scene where they were seen."
Yuji's cheeks burn with resentment but it's short-lived. He can't blame his sensei for doing his job. "Yes, sir."
Masamichi gives a great pause, as if reluctant to reveal what he has to say next.
"A few recent developments you'll need to be aware of: Our target is confirmed to have wings. It's assumed to be an effect from the vessel's consumption of their shikigami. There has also been evidence of an accomplice working with Sukuna's vessel, but no description has been gathered as of yet. He's probably been recently maimed though. We had reports from Kento Nanami and Takuma Ino that an unidentified severed hand was recovered from the amusement park."
"Sorry… Did you say they found a hand?" Yuta asks with interest.
"Correct. And there have been no recent hospital records corresponding with injuries like this. So be on the lookout for any one-handed Curse users you may encounter. The tests on the hand had… troubling results."
Yuta's interest is piqued. "Troubling how, sir?"
"The samples were inconclusive when testing for fingerprints, DNA and blood type, yet they were found to be in a late state of necrosis. All evidence seems to be pointing to this hand being part of a corpse rather than a living person."
Masamichi's words fade out as a ringing pitch takes over Yuji's hearing. His pulse is racing a mile a minute as he strains to keep his features neutral, but that word screams like an alarm in his brain. A corpse…a corpse…a corpse.
"Itadori? You're oddly silent. I hope that's a sign you're paying attention."
"Yes, sir!" He snaps out of his troubled thoughts with his superior seemingly taking no notice of his internal spiraling.
Masamichi removes his sunglasses to look directly into his student's eyes. "I'll add again for good measure that it is with extreme apprehension I am adding you on this case. The only reason you've been granted clearance is because Sukuna will automatically seek out his own energy, leading us to the target. I'll be expecting nothing short of glowing reviews for your performance in the field. You are to obey Yuta as your superior. Do you understand?"
"I do. Yes, sir." He hates how you're referred to as merely a target nowadays, but bridles his rage nonetheless.
The sound of an engine grows louder behind them as a black car pulls up to the gate, brakes squealing to a halt. Masamichi checks his watch impatiently.
"There's Ijichi right on time to take you into the city. Now where the hell is your third teammate?"
"Salmon!"
Toge Inumaki, the last member of their impromptu group, bursts through the front door, descending the steps rapidly in double-time. He'd spent too much time preparing himself mentally for this new assignment and lost track of the hour. Their headmaster isn't very happy to see punctuality is failing fast within the ranks.
"Ah, finally deciding to join us? Good. The others can catch you up on the details on the way. See to it that this tardiness doesn't become a new habit of yours, please."
"Tuna."
Inumaki gives a respectful salute before stepping off the curb to follow his teammates to the car. His stomach knots when Yuta takes the front seat. Readjusting his face mask, he sits in the back seat next to Itadori. Already he can feel Sukuna's eyes upon him and shifts anxiously in his seat.
From the front, Yuta holds up the wrapped bundle of food he'd packed for the road. "Toge? I made breakfast if you're hungry."
"Salmon," his partner declines politely.
"Ah alright then. Maybe we can have it later."
So much for his efforts to bring everyone together, even over something as simple as a meal. Yuta sets the food back down on his lap. Perhaps it's a little too early for anyone else to be hungry yet.
As the car pulls away from the front gate and onto the main road into the city, Yuta discreetly reaches a hand behind his seat, feeling the reassuring warmth of Inumaki's fingers brush against his.
Itadori stares forlornly out the car window, pretending not to notice the tenderness of the gesture.
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The shuffling of pigeons leaving their roost pulls Junpei gently out of slumber. A smile creeps across his lips as the last memories of the night before trickle into his first waking thoughts. He was never one to believe in heaven when he was alive, but this certainly feels close to it.
Reaching a searching hand over to sweep the spot beside him, he finds only cool sheets. His eyes crack open little by little.
"Hm?"
Something shimmers in the sunlight beside him on the futon. It looks like the golden chain you usually wear. He twists it thoughtfully between his fingers with a smile, letting the light from the window shine over the plating. Sitting upright, he clasps it around his neck for safekeeping until he can return it to you, then with a satisfying yawn and stretch, he reaches for his kimono. He slips both arms through the yukata created just for him. The outer layer is a pale shade of green with white camellia flowers, and his obi is white with sparse strokes of long grass in shimmering emerald thread. He hums while dressing, stretching both arms once again overhead and listening for any indication as to where you and Sukuna may be.
Distant snips of conversation filter in through the glass-less window. It sounds like you and master Sukuna must both be down in the garden already. Junpei has noticed the amount of time you spend conversing with your Curse has noticeably increased over the past few days. In the moments when Junpei awakens to readjust his sleeping position, he often catches the sight of your face buried in Sukuna's broad chest with both of his powerful arms holding you. Junpei would smile and kiss the backs of his master's fingers, feeling them twitch and tuck over his own in response.
It brings him joy to see your walls are finally coming down enough to forgive whatever transgression that occurred between the two of you. Once his initial shyness had subsided, he also learned that sharing pleasure with you is an incomparable joy. He once dreaded being touched. The hands of another person never brought him anything but pain, yet all it took now was one light squeeze on his shoulder and he would eagerly lean in toward whoever was seeking his affection. The absolute blessing of surrendering his body beneath the mouths of both you and Sukuna felt so undeserved that he would frequently be moved to tears.
Sukuna was forgiving of his servant's inexperience, taking initiative in leading their bodies together for the best positions to satisfy you. Continually he would whisper encouragement and suggestions directly into Junpei's ear, telling him the different ways to hold your legs open and the right time to pin your arms above your head. Junpei always moved as he was told, trusting in his master's direction no matter how subtle each nuance was. And when he earned enough favor to be entered himself, his body accommodated for his master's size with minimal effort. Even after each climax, Junpei's energy replenished itself as soon as he was needed again. The scent of your musk upon his master's hands was always enough to coax him back into action like an addict. The mere utterance of a few simple words such as "good boy" could strum his passions to life in a flash.
As he steps outside, the sight of you and Sukuna together makes Junpei's chest tingle with joy. You're standing near the rose bushes, deep in conversation with your back to him. A twinge of embarrassment comes over Junpei when he sees you're holding hands. The urge to let you two have your privacy comes over him at the same instant you look over and wave.
He feels instantly forgiven and offers a sheepish smile. "Good morning. I guess I needed to sleep in the most, huh?"
"Apparently so," you smile in agreement, subtly releasing Sukuna's hand from your grip.
Your eyes flick down when you notice the familiar shine of your gold chain peeking beneath the neck of Junpei's yukata. Immediately he starts to remove it.
"Ah– Sorry. I found it upstairs and wanted to bring it to you. Here."
With a smile you place your hand over his, halting his movements. "No, wait. It's okay. You should wear it. It looks really nice on you."
His jaw drops. He's never received nice things like this before. Even the kimono he's wearing feels undeserved. "I couldn't! It probably means alot to you–"
"Sure, it does. But you can hold onto it for me instead, okay? Besides I'm happier seeing it on you. It'll give me better memories this way," you reassure him with a gentle smile.
He isn't quite sure what you mean by this, but nonetheless he smiles, feeling flattered that you'd give him something so special.
"Just promise that you'll always wear it. Keep it safe for me."
"Of course I will," he vows dutifully.
You allow your gaze to linger at his neck a bit longer. The familiar grip of sadness that usually comes with admiring your one prized possession is noticeably dulled. It does look nice on him. Your fingers play along the links thoughtfully, trailing up to capture Junpei's cheek in the center of your palm. His eyes are heavy as you lean in to brush your lips against his.
"It suits you."
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Junpei managed to entertain himself as best as he could within the confines of the churchyard garden as time passed, but tedium slowly settled in with each day's chores mirroring the last.
He would observe the way bees climbed over blossoms, scraping with their claws and cutting into the leaves, stimulating each vine to create more flowers. Junpei watched and understood this, even making his own cuts with his nails and teeth to pass the time and help the garden grow. When one star in the sky, the brightest in a belt of three began burning brighter one night as he was looking up, he knew its end was drawing imminent. Again, this he understood without provocation.
He could also tell that several planets were reversing their orbits in the heavens above in retrograde. A heavy one too. Junpei could feel the effects of it more acutely than ever noticed in his old life. He feels anxious and restless, flitting from one part of the garden to the next aimlessly before disappearing back inside to find something to sweep or clean. There was never enough to fully busy his mind.
Junpei can still feel his own human wits and yearnings as if not a single day passed since his unfortunate demise, yet he is painfully aware of the absence of certain urges he once felt. No matter how long he kneels to scrub the floors, he never feels any ache or splinter as it enters his skin. Upon discovering any injury he pauses just long enough to receive a scolding from his master when he requests to be repaired again. He eats out of pure desire or boredom without ever feeling the pains of hunger. Whether he sleeps for two hours or ten he feels no different.
Not human. Not a Curse.
When the garden was no longer strangled by weeds and overgrowth, and each room of the church cleaned to the best of his abilities, his search to busy his hands led him to the basement of the church one this afternoon to begin work on the broken film projector. Progress is slow of course since he has no idea what he is doing aside from taking things apart to piece them back together again. He's always heard this is the best way to learn about any machine, but he's clueless as to what each component does.
"Ugh, disgusting," he mutters under his breath while scrunching his nose with frustration.
His head tilts as he struggles to see what he's doing, but cleaning away years of dust is proving to be much more of a task than expected. The internal workings of the old film projector weren't completely protected over time. What he found inside was a mess of dirt and spiderwebs to clean out. Even afterwards the mechanisms wouldn't move no matter how much energy he fed into the power cord. There has to be something else he's missing.
"How the hell does this damn thing even work?" he scoffs again while wiping more dust away.
With one fist supporting his chin, Sukuna watches his servant working with mild curiosity while lazing on the steps of the staircase, eyes heavy with boredom but his mouth is curved to one corner. "Is this human contraption really worth your hours of effort? What does it do?"
Sitting back on his heels, Junpei sighs aloud. "It plays movies. Or at least it will if I can fix it. I saw a box of unmarked film reels in here. There might be something worth watching, but l have no idea what I'm doing. It would just be nice to have some different entertainment for a change. Something besides just listening to records."
He furrows his brow with determination, not ready to give up just yet. It's just the little parts inside that are the most tedious to clean. Surely that must be the issue bugging up the works and preventing the film slides from moving. Nervously fidgeting with the tiny pieces he has no names for, he moves them back and forth as gently as he can. Suddenly he becomes aware of the bulking presence of warmth against his back. His master's arms wrap around him possessively, forcing him to stop what he's doing. His eyes close automatically as his lips part in a soft surprised "ah."
"If it's entertainment that you seek, little flower, you need only to ask," Sukuna whispers in a sultry voice, slipping one strong arm around his servant's waist and leaving the other draped around his shoulders. He hums while nuzzling the soft skin of Junpei's neck, breathing in the strong floral perfumes of the garden.
Junpei swoons lightly at the contact, but quickly shakes his head with a smile, placing a hand over the clawed fingers pressing into his hip with need.
"I-I didn't mean it in that way," he whispers with a growing smile.
Sukuna speaks so low that his chest vibrates. "Ah, so you haven't grown tired of me yet? Should I be concerned?"
This time a soft kiss presses behind Junpei's ear and he moans in an embarrassing pitch.
"Mmnah! N-no, Master! I couldn't tire of you. Ever!"
"Good. I'm glad to hear it. And as for the music, I quite enjoy it. It almost makes this place bearable."
"Mm-hmm…" Junpei nods while quickly trying to return to his task, wishing to drop this subject at once before he says something he regrets. This does not go unnoticed by his master, who regards this silence skeptically.
"What's the matter? Speak what's on your mind."
He feels a shift beneath the weight of his arms as his servant stiffens. "Well.. you seem to like some of the songs much more than others. In fact, you kind of… wear them out."
Sukuna raises a brow, squinting skeptically with both sets of eyes. "Wear them out? What on earth does this mean? Don't guard your words from me as if I'm so easily offended."
"Um, well... You replay the same songs over on repeat. Like track number nine on the classical masters collection–"
"Ah, you mean Il Trillo del Diovolo."
Junpei winces. "Yes. That one. Sometimes you listen to it ten or twenty times without ever changing to another song. That's… annoying."
"Annoying?! It's a beautiful piece! And besides that it's one of the few things we have that brings me inner tranquility," Sukuna insists hotly.
"Not after two dozen times. Good music loses its effect when you anticipate each note," his servant groans while shaking his head.
"It most certainly does not! It grows more powerful with each repetition. So much more meaningful and grand!"
The sound of your footsteps descending the stairs pauses Sukuna's outburst. As you peer down and see a scowl firmly planted on your Curse's face, you grimace as well.
"Uh-oh… Did you mention the Devil's Trill?"
"Don't tell me you feel the same way?" he frowns, not bothering to adjust his position from being half-draped over Junpei's back while the boy works.
"You've played it every single day since you first heard it. Aren't you getting tired of it yet?"
He juts out his chin defiantly. "I never tire of the things that bring me joy."
The way he says it so pointedly brings a smile to your face as you approach. Sukuna doesn't return it, but his gaze does soften noticeably and the lines at the corners of his mouth ease a bit.
Like all other basements in the world, this one is cluttered with old furniture and boxes of junk. The smell of mothballs, dust and something else you can't identify is thick in the air, making your nose wrinkle and your sinuses sting.
You peer over Junpei's shoulder while trying not to sound too expectant. "So? Are you making any progress yet?"
With a defeated sigh your friend sits back. "If you have a really loose definition of progress, then sure. The only projector experience I have was when my high school movie club borrowed one so we could watch Sinister for a fully immersive experience for the story. This thing is older than both of us. Each time I try putting it back together and running it, the reels just click in place."
He knows how much you had your hopes up and your disappointed expression crushes him.
"Yeah, well… I appreciate you trying for me anyway. Really."
There's a snap as he replaces the side panel and brushes his hands across the knees of his pants to clean them, huffing dejectedly. "I think I'm going to have to call it quits, for now at least."
"Wait… What's that down there?" You point a finger while leaning closer.
You can see a small knob on the side of the projector that appears to be sitting on a hinge. The layers of dust must have concealed the hinge before, making the piece look stationary instead of mobile. Junpei tilts his head for a better look.
"Oh, um… I'm not sure." he whispers while pressing the knob inward. It snaps into place easily. He picks up the power cord and gently flows his energy into it. And then–
Light! And movement too!
The sound of reels clicking and rotating makes you whoop with instant glee as the gears begin to rapidly spin in place.
"Alright, Junpei! You did it! Great job!"
"I guess so," he laughs in surprise.
"We better not celebrate too early. Want to hand me one of the film reels from that box over there so we can make sure that it works?"
Looking where he's pointing you peer into a box that had been shoved into a corner. Inside it you find round metal tins, each one marked with labels that have been well worn away over the years. Upon closer inspection, you can barely make out the faded letters of names written on each label.
Hakashi, Furukawa, Inoue…
Huh. They're too vague to be movie titles. Maybe these are the directors' names? Or actors possibly? Next to each label is an identical red ink stamp of a single word: Expired.
"Junpei? Do you know if movie film can expire?"
He tilts his head thoughtfully. "Maybe older kinds. I think if it's unprocessed it only lasts a few years."
"Unprocessed, meaning nothing would be on it right? Then why would somebody label these if they're blank?" you wonder aloud while sorting through them. Figuring it makes no difference which one you start with, you select one of the top canisters marked Inoue.
"I doubt any of these are mainstream movies. I've never heard of these names, but at least they're free. Let's give this one a shot."
The task of threading the delicate film strip around the reels of the projector takes a few tries to get right, but you're more determined now than ever. Junpei lends further assistance to feed the film from the top reel down to the bottom, then through the side securely. From there it's just a matter of flipping the small switches in order to keep the film from moving off track once the projector is turned on.
"Okay, this looks right to me. It should work," Junpei confirms. He looks satisfied at all this hard work finally paying off.
You clap your hands with glee. "Excellent! Hey, Ryomen?"
"Yes?" Your Curse straightens his slouch when you address him.
After removing a white sheet from a chair, you toss it his way. He catches it midair and raises an eyebrow at you. "What exactly am I supposed to do with this?"
"Hang it nice and high on the wall over there to be our screen," you instruct.
He only looks slightly annoyed at having been given a task, but hearing the good cheer in your voice entices him to obey. Without pins or nails to suspend it, he simply punches the top two corners through the drywall with the tips of his claws. Crude perhaps, but it does stay in place.
He turns to you for your approval. "Will this be sufficient?"
"Yes. Nicely done. And now for our seats… "
You remove a sheet from a small two person couch and plop down, patting the spot beside you that's just enough for your friend to fit in the narrow space.
As he gets comfortable, you give him a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks again for this."
"Heh. Don't mention it." Junpei's face tingles pleasantly and he leans against you.
Sukuna takes a seat in the rigid wooden chair you first uncovered, pulling it beside the couch. There is contentment in his gaze as he watches the two of you. He crosses his legs and waits expectantly for the entertainment to begin.
"Alright. Everyone has their cell phone turned off, right?"
Junpei giggles, but your Curse only stares in confusion.
"What do you mean? What cell phones are you talking about?"
You only shake your head. "Ah, nothing. A stupid joke. Gentlemen, I give you… cinema!"
You hold the power cable in your hand dramatically and channel your cursed energy into it. The soft red light illuminates the room, the sound of the reels clicking only builds your anticipation as the blurring slides present the moving images.
Though it's shaky and lost much of its definition over the years with streaks and scratches occurring intermittently, you're able to make out the black and white image of a chair in the center of an otherwise unfurnished room. Very minimalist. Maybe this is some sort of indie art film?
"Weird. Isn't this how the haunted video in The Ring started out?" Junpei remarks, clearly trying to make light of the creepy imagery.
"Yeah, heh. It's a good thing there's no phones here so Sadako can't call us."
"Who is Sadako?" Sukuna asks, but your eyes are glued to the screen as the camera zooms in, showing thick leather straps attached to the arms and legs of the chair with.
Two women walk on screen, both nuns dressed in full habit, half-dragging half-carrying a third girl in their arms. The limp girl appears to be ill or perhaps unconscious as she's propped upright in the chair. The two nuns stand with their backs to the camera, obscuring the view while carefully strapping her in by her shoulders, elbows and wrists. Then they kneel to strap her knees and ankles to the legs of the chair as well. This setup is seriously bothering you. What do they have in store for this poor woman?
"Don't ignore me when I ask you a question! I asked who is Sadako?" Sukuna repeats with irritation.
Junpei leans over to his master to explain in a soft voice. "Sadako Yamamura is the ghost of an evil little girl who never sleeps. She kills people who watch her cursed video tape… unless you make new copies to show others for her to curse instead."
"Bah! A mere child specter could never hope to kill me," Sukuna harumps.
Junpei cracks a knowing grin. "See? That's how she gets you. No one ever takes her seriously until it's too late!"
"Shh! I think… I think this girl might be possessed or something," you mutter, focussing intently on the movie.
Indeed the actress on screen is lolling her head about, eyes wide and scanning the room while grimacing. At once her head jerks to one corner in particular, as if startled by something there. Her mouth stretches in a horrified scream but the projector doesn't allow for the sound to come through. It doesn't need to. The silence of her peril is more unsettling than actually hearing her. The cameraman brings the focus closer upon the woman's face, but she ignores him at first, shaking the chair in place with her futile efforts to break free. When he draws her attention by stepping closer she turns her head within the limit of her bonds and screams again, mouthing silent words.
...Help me…Help me!
Finally the camera swings toward the dark corner where her gaze remains fixated. Slowly a deep shadow pulses from the very walls of the room, converging into a towering, pitch black figure.
"What the fuck is that?" Junpei demands with rising fear in his voice.
"I… I think it's a Curse," you mutter.
"How the hell is there a Curse captured on camera? They're not even visible to the naked eye for most people."
It's Sukuna who has to point out the obvious. "They don't see it. If they did, they wouldn't behave so calmly. This human device must have captured the energy traces it left behind."
The steadiness of the camera angle and the way the shadow figure approaches must mean he's right. The features of the Curse are still undistinguishable as it grows closer, but when the camera swings back toward the woman bound to the wooden chair, her eyes and mouth are wide in terror. She can see what's coming for her.
"This is fucked up. Why the hell are they doing this? Ryomen?" You turn to him for answers.
Your Curse is troubled by the distress in your tone, giving a slight pause before answering. "It's a much older style of exorcism. The curse is pinned to a singular human used to lure it out. Usually… the target is heavily drugged to make them more compliant in their last throes."
"Oh, my God," Junpei gasps.
"So then… She's going to be–"
"I'm afraid so. She will be a sacrifice to ensure this curse's temporary banishment." Sukuna confirms gravely.
Your own anger comes bubbling up faster than you can process it. The metal prongs of the power cord cut into your palm as you squeeze harder.
"So that thing won't even be fully exercised? Then what's the point if it's just going to come back later?"
Sukuna shakes his head, fully knowing why you're upset.
"This was a primitive method. Jujutsu sorcerers have most likely since condemned this as an acceptable manner to get rid of a Cursed presence. I imagine they aren't fond of using it. It's a treatment of a symptom, not the ailment itself. They mainly used it as a means to rid their villages of social pariahs. I believe the human phrase is 'two birds, one stone.'"
Junpei looks to be on the verge of tears now. "You mean people they didn't like? They could do this to anybody then!"
You watch the woman on the screen continue to thrash and pull at her bonds. The priests surrounding her begin laying paper charms against her skin, causing her to scream harder. You hear a sob breaking the silence of the film. It came from you. You're well aware of what this poor woman is going through. It wasn't very long ago that you were in a position nearly identical to hers. The impulse crosses your mind to forget about this altogether, but the need to know this poor girl's fate keeps your fist tightly clenched around the power cord. Your energy remains unwavering as a man steps into view on screen next. He's dressed in all black with a punitive expression. He looks both determined and exhausted. It looks like a priest, judging by the style of his clothing. The woman's face turns toward him when he speaks. Her skin has changed, showing deep blotches you suspect to be deep red in color. You hear Sukuna murmur something under his breath.
"What was that?"
He indicates the screen with his chin. "It's a disease Curse. Leprosy. She's been afflicted by its possession."
"How strong is it?" Junpei asks fearfully. Any hope of this being an enjoyable experience have now vanished completely from his mind.
"A much bigger threat than a human ghost child. This won't end well for the bound human," Sukuna confirms with certainty.
You can tell by the priest's mouth movements that he's addressing the entity by name, angering and provoking it on purpose. The woman's head shakes back and forth as she screams again. The pupils of her eyes dilate to an enormous proportion. With the whites entirely gone, her gaze is dead and shark-like. Her lips curl back to reveal blackening gums and teeth. The muscles in her neck bulge with strain against her bonds one last time, then the vessels beneath her skin burst open on their own.
The camera tilts, showing a wider angle of the entire room. That's when realization finally hits you.
"Oh… my God… That's the church! This church! This was filmed here!"
It was difficult to tell at first because of the junk that had been piled up in the space around you, but you can see that you're standing in the same room as the one on the screen before you. Immediately your desire to see what happens next plummets. You release the power cord and it drops to the floor, leaving you and Junpei both shaken and panting in the dark.
"I.. don't think we need to see any more," you whisper.
"Oh, God. I'm so sorry..." Junpei whimpers. This wasn't the pleasant, nostalgic experience he was hoping to create with you at all.
You glance back over at the cardboard box of film canisters. It's painfully clear that the names written on the lids weren't directors at all. They were victims. The "expired" stamp had nothing to do with the integrity of the film itself. Each one was a life that met its end after suffering a terrible fate.
Junpei notes your pensive silence and feels his chest tighten. He's heartbroken over the demise of so many people. Even Sukuna is silent, staring down at the splintered wood of the chair he is sitting in. The lines of deep scratches on the arms catch his eye. He touches them with a somber passing of his claws.
All those reels… Those people. Each of them suffered just like that Inoue woman.
Two hands take your shoulders. At first you assume it's Sukuna, but you turn to find that Junpei too had a worried look on his face over your outburst. They pull you in for one embrace together, keeping you at the center.
"It's alright… They're in a better place. And master Sukuna said that technique isn't used anymore," Junpei reassures you, wiping your tears away with the sleeve of his shirt.
You want to listen, you want to believe and erase the black swelling hopelessness you just witnessed, but you know the truth. As long as there are Curses, there will be human suffering and new Curses being created from it. The two cannot exist without one another. Their chaos is equally inevitable.
You suddenly feel so exhausted, gratefully allowing Sukuna and Junpei to lead you up the stairs and out of the basement.
"I'm sorry," your Curse offers quietly as he takes your hand in his.
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To Be Continued…..