"Cursed Technique Lapse: Blue."
The world behind you blows apart, but you keep running. You first intended to do the job quietly, but trust Satoru to make a scene.
When the principal briefed you, the objective had been simple: kill a team of curse users who were searching for a cursed artifact capable of amplifying the strength of any curse in its reach, upping them at least two grades.
It was bad. Hence, you were sent.
The first plan had been to find the artifact before them, bring it back to Jujutsu High, and then finish them off. But recent intelligence reports told you that they were closer to finding it than originally thought.
Which puts you in your current situation of chasing after a curse user who decided to escape when you faced him. Coward.
He is clever, you admit, actively avoiding a direct fight. Your technique could make this all end very fast, but apparently, they were informed that you three were coming.
His cursed technique is easy to figure out, but it is only a matter of time until you catch up with him. He fades through another wall and enters an old building, leaving you to run toward a thick wall of cement. You lift your left arm, pointing it straight ahead, and pull your other hand back like you're drawing a bowstring.
"Cursed technique: Light of Ascella."
Cursed energy flows through you like second nature. You don't stop running as you fire off your innate technique which tears the building apart. For a moment, you think the curse user might have been hit by the falling debris, but you spot movement in the corner of your eye.
There – he tries to climb out of a shattered window, a desperate expression on his face. His clothes were cut up and in tatters, his legs and hands bleeding profusely. A cornered animal, trying to survive with its last leg.
You almost feel sorry for him if it weren't for the horribly tortured humans you found an hour earlier. Suguru guessed that they attempted to use the artifact on them, just to see what would happen.
The malevolent cursed energy entered them and made them lose their mind. They had clawed their faces off, tore their throats out, and died, some digging out their own intestines in a craze to remove the parasite inside of them.
It was a sight you won't forget too soon.
Moving inhumanly fast, you grab him by the back of his collar and throw him across the room, a sickening crack echoing through the air when he hits a wall.
"P-please, I-," he stutters as you approach him.
Pathetic, weak maggot.
Satoru likes to play with his food. Suguru prefers an equal battle. You just want it to be over.
Quick justice. No mercy, but no cruelty either.
You notice the moment his cursed energy rises like a tide, ready to make his atoms fade to pass through another object, most likely to fall through the floor as a last means of escape, but you are faster.
"Cursed technique: Orion Nebula."
A flash of blinding light. You clutch the blazing dagger and bring it down in a slashing motion.
His head rolls off his shoulder in a clean cut. His hands twitch in his last seconds, acting out the motions.
Your chest rises and falls in quick succession. Killing a human, even one as corrupt as him, never lost its sting, one you feel deep within your soul. You grit your teeth and feel the dagger in your hand dissolve into light particles.
He deserves it. All of them do.
After quick consideration, you grab his severed head by the hair and make your way back.
The area around the abandoned building complex looks nothing like it did when you first entered. Courtesy of Satoru and Suguru's curses, you're sure.
You find them quickly, throwing the man's head down at their feet and brushing a strand out of your face.
"He was quick on his feet. Took me longer than expected. Brought him here, just in case we need to compare their faces to the photographs."
If some escaped, it is your job to hunt them down.
"You're one of the reasons I wear these sunglasses," Satoru comments, grinning widely. "Damn flashlights, your techniques."
You stick out your tongue.
Suguru lays a hand on your shoulder which makes you look at him. "Are you okay?"
He knows how much you despise this part of the job.
You smile, if only for his sake, and nod. "Let's call for the cleanup crew and get the hell out of here."
Later that night, you wake up in a cold sweat, gasping for air and clutching your heart. It takes a few seconds before you remember who you are. That you are safe.
You are never blessed with vague dreams. Most of them are crystal clear in detail, much like one would recount a vivid memory.
You press the heels of your palms against your eyes as images of flayed faces and bloodied guts falling out of body cavities flash through your mind. Open ribcages. Eyes scratched out. Faces of pure agony.
You don't think twice when you stand up and make your way to the door.
The hardwood floor feels cold beneath your feet as you tiptoe to the other side of the building. You don't exactly know what time it is, but it's still pitch-black outside with no moonlight shining down. You must have barely slept for two hours.
You feel for the familiar knob and turn it before slipping inside.
Fatigue starts to take over your mind by now and you hurriedly scurry to where you know the bed is. Even in the darkness, you could make out the faint outline of the person lying in it.
Lifting the blanket, you slip under and quietly sigh at the welcoming warmth. You turn around to face him and-
"Wrong room."
Holy shit, his eyes do glow in the dark.
You startle so badly that you back off, forgetting that you're on the edge of the bed. His arm shoots out and wraps itself around your waist, pulling you closer to him.
"Oh my God-"
"Satoru is fine."
You roll your eyes, fully aware that his Six Eyes allow him to see perfectly in the dark.
"To what do I owe the pleasure?" he drawls as you pry his arm off your body.
"I had a nightmare," you whisper and look at the ceiling to avoid his gaze.
"Like a child?"
A yank. You try to pull the blanket toward yourself, but that only results in a game of tug of war when he pulls back. "Stop it," you whisper sharply.
"This is the reason why I go to Suguru and not you," you grumble as you silently agree on a truce and let the blanket lay there, motionless.
"He lets you steal his blanket in his own bed?" he props his head on his hand.
"He doesn't call me a child for having a bad dream."
"You're welcome to leave, then."
You yawn openly, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes. "Nah, I'm comfortable now."
Placing your hands on his chest, you shove him until he gets the signal and backs off to the wall while you scoot to the edge of the bed.
"Goodnight," you say, closing your eyes and curling up into a tight ball.
"And don't even think of stealing the blanket while I'm sleeping. I'll kill you."
"So vulgar," he snickered, and it is the last thing you hear before drifting off.
Thinking back, you would never admit it, but you never slept as well as you did that night.