Roxanne's apartment faces east, and from between the buildings the sunrise sends a shaft of light crawling across her bedroom floor and along the wall. After resolving things with Nanami, they'd reunited properly, and afterward, she slept the sleep of the dead. Now, she is still half-asleep, sprawled amidst the tumbled sheets of her bed, breathing deep the scent of home…and him .
The scent of butter and the sound of sizzling wakes her up. Her eyes open, and she sees the negative space where Nanami once lay. She can smell his cologne, and her perfume, and their sweat, and she smiles and stretches like a sleek and satisfied jungle cat, remembering how her night went.
She slips back into her pajamas, a cropped black Sisters of Mercy t-shirt (her favorite band since high school) that looks well-worn, and a pair of loose black pajama shorts. Having finally resettled into her home, she sheds most of her gold jewelry, save the clasps adorning her braids, interspersed with cowrie shells, and the anklet on her right ankle: a herringbone chain and a single charm. She shuffles into her bathroom, catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror, smirks at the way her skin glows like burnished umber, the way her eyes glimmer like luminous black pearls. Her lips, already full, are love-swollen. Nanami enjoys kissing more than anyone realizes, and a great deal of time was spent satiating that hunger. She touches her fingertips to her lips, and then starts the process of brushing her teeth and washing her face.
Nanami's back is to her when she emerges from the bedroom and enters the kitchen. On the counter are two plates, already laden with pancakes, and eggs. Nanami is frying bacon in the cast iron skillet, clad in an apron and wearing one of her spare pairs of house slippers. She spies his suit jacket neatly draped over the back of one of the chairs, and his glasses neatly placed right next to her key bowl. It's as familiar as home can be.
"You didn't have to go through all the trouble, Kento," she says, and unable to resist, slides her arms around his waist. Nanami uses his free hand to place his hand over hers, idly stroking the tender plane of skin along her wrist. He does not offer an argument or rebuttal, and finishes cooking.
They talk over breakfast, and the subject of Gojo's plan comes up again. Of course it does.
"Every mission could be our last," Nanami says, sipping his coffee. "I don't think this one will be yours, but you have to promise me you will take every precaution. Don't bait him unnecessarily." Nanami offers her a rare smile. "Your cursed energy output alone will be enough to interest him, I think."
To that, Roxanne agrees. She does not make any promises, however, nor does Nanami pressure her to do so. No promise made can ascertain survival in their world. Nanami reads the morning paper, as his way, and Roxanne checks emails on her phone and for a brief moment, their lives feel so ardently normal she forgets what they are.
The thought makes her laugh quietly. Nanami does not look up from his paper.
"Something amusing, beautiful?" He asks. Roxanne laughs again, and this time he does look up. He can't help it.
"It's just…" She gestures around them, to the plates cleared of a delicious breakfast, and to his newspaper. "It feels so normal, doesn't it?"
Nanami puts down his newspaper, and smiles. "It does," he replies, reaching over to take her hand in his, lacing their fingers. He takes pleasure in the simple intimacy of this act, and feels something brush the edges of his mind, telling him to hold this moment close to his heart.
"We could go exorcize a curse or two to start the day off right," Roxanne says and Nanami sighs, but his exasperation is half-hearted at best. He can't fault her for her sense of humor, not when she's preparing to face a challenge like Sukuna. He won't bring it up again, knowing the matter settled, but he can't shake the apprehension in his gut, nor can he keep that worried furrow from his brow. Sometimes, there are moments he catches Roxanne watching him and he knows that she knows. It is why she comes over and leans in to press a kiss to his forehead, smoothing that furrow if only for a short while.
It'll be okay, I promise . Her kiss says and Nanami knows he must trust her. He can do little else.
Yuji thinks nothing of it when Gojo brings him to the outskirts of the city. He knows he is still listed as dead, and Gojo has plans to train him in secret. What he doesn't expect is when Nanami shows up with a woman he has never seen before. He gapes a little, because Roxanne Abaza is probably the most striking woman he has ever seen in his young life.
She's not tall, but she's nearly his height. Her hair is a charming profusion of braids, and the sunlight catches the gleam of golden clasps scattered amongst them, as well as the cowrie shells. Her face is like something out of a magazine, with perfectly arched brows, a sculpted nose adorned with a tiny gold stud, and full lips painted black. And her eyes are wide and dark, ringed by sooty lashes. Her skin is dark brown, like a rich mahogany. She's wearing a sleeveless cropped t-shirt, and his eyes travel downward, noting the tattoo of a crowned cobra inked around her taut waist. She wears a pair of loose black cargo pants and the freshest pair of black and white sneakers he's seen in a while. He knows from the sculpted muscle of her arms that she can fight.
More than that, he can feel her cursed energy, and within him, something stirs.
"Yuji," Gojo says, "meet Roxanne Abaza. She's a special grade sorcerer like me, and she's going to be assisting me with your training."
Yuji is still staring when the thing inside him rouses in interest.
Well, well, well.
The voice is deep and sinister, and he can feel the cage of his bones rattle as Sukuna rouses and steps forward to peer through his eyes. When Yuji looks at Roxanne, he sees hope and potential, but Sukuna sees a threat…and to Yuji's horror…he's interested .
"Gojo gives me too much credit," Roxanne says with a smirk, "I'm just here to run a few tests with your… dark passenger , as it were." She takes a step closer. "So how many Fingers have you taken in, sweetheart?"
Oh, she's a bold one.
Shut up.
"Three…I think?" Yuji counts on his fingers, and Roxanne watches him with those luminous dark eyes. Nanami stands just behind her shoulder. Gojo is smiling.
"Fascinating," Roxanne says, examining Yuji closely. Yuji feels a prickle of fear as Sukuna's interest grows. He can feel her cursed energy, can feel the icy pressure of it despite her tight reigns of control. For a brief moment, Yuji's irises flicker red, and the outlines of an intricate tattoo begin to bleed into his skin before fading out again.
"Looks like our mutual friend is awake and alert," Roxanne says shrewdly. "Gojo, do you want me to do the thing now or…?"
Gojo waves a hand dismissively. "If you're ready. Nanami and I will be on standby."
And what does she mean to do, brat?
No idea! I'm meeting her at the same time as you. She's super strong, though.
Tuh. We'll see.
Roxanne raises her hands, tipped in chrome-shine gold nails. "I'm going to need to touch you, Yuji. Is that alright?"
Yuji's face is as guileless as ever, but he nods. "Go for it. Should warn you that he's watching, though."
Roxanne smiles. "Oh I hope so. Alright, here we go. You may feel a slight tingle."
She cups Yuji's face, meets his gaze, and then opens the way.
Roxanne's cursed technique repertoire is not extensive–few sorcerers can claim an extensive repertoire–but what skills she has available to her, she has honed over years of intense training and field experience. She has dealt with everything from cursed spirits to curse users and assassins. Her main technique is highly dangerous, both for her and her opponent, but with proper training, she has perfected it to be a precision gift.
The pressure of her cursed energy builds, and out of the corner of her eye she sees Nanami's hands twitch in readiness. Gojo looks as relaxed as ever, but she knows beneath the blindfold his eyes are seeing the increase in pressure. She can feel Yuji's cursed energy, a slow simmering build, too slow as yet to be effective, but brimming with potential. It is not his energy she seeks to contain, but Sukuna's.
The moment she touches his energy and attempts to form a link, what she hopes will happen, happens.
Being drawn into an innate domain can be abrupt, and sometimes it can be unnoticeable. Cursed spirits who manage to reach a certain grade–usually grade one or special–can create innate domains which they use to trap their victims. Roxanne trained for a year to master her innate domain, which in turn allowed her to breakthrough to domain expansion. It is rare she has to rely on it, but it is a tool in her arsenal…and a vital one.
This, however, is altogether different.
She does not even blink, and yet she finds herself standing in near knee-deep liquid. It stretches out as far as the eye can see in all directions, a sea of what can only be blood. She knows this is all metaphysical, but her senses are still assaulted by the coppery scent. She also knows that by being here she is vulnerable.
And just what do you hope to accomplish, little sorceress? A voice sneers from above. Roxanne looks up to see Sukuna himself seated atop a throne of bones. She has seen worse things, but she feels him, and she realizes and knows with absolute certainty that whatever legends and records jujutsu society has amassed about this man have no doubt been watered down. She has not felt cursed energy of this magnitude in her entire life. She wants to laugh because she almost feels as if she should kneel. Sukuna looks down at her, wearing Yuji's face, but different.
"Lord Sukuna," Roxanne greets, executing a Western curtsy instead, the kind one uses to acknowledge a foreign dignitary. Sukuna raises a brow but he does not speak. "I've gotta say this is kind of a huge honor."
Of course it is. Get on with it. What do you want?
Roxanne blinks. Of course he's not into the poetic niceties of friendly banter. To business, then.
"Well, I'm actually here to propose a pact. I just need a minute of your time out there, if it's not too much trouble."
This time, Sukuna does move, and Roxanne braces herself. Even when expecting it, she's not prepared for his sheer speed. One moment he's above her on a mountain of bones, the next he is before her, close enough that she has to lean back as he leans in to examine her.
Why are you limiting yourself? He asks. Roxanne's brows go up. He can sense that she's keeping a great deal of her power leashed? That's interesting. Sukuna walks around her, never taking his four-eyed gaze off of her.
"People tend to get a little riled up when I put pressure on," she says with a smile. "Would you prefer I take the gloves off?"
Sukuna stops prowling around her, and Roxanne feels like a butterfly in a collection, pinned by the intensity of his regard, yet also so small beneath his regard. His arrogance is well-earned, she knows, but it still annoys her that he thinks so little of everyone and everything, trapped in a child's body as he is.
She slips off the proverbial gloves, and lets him feel her.
Sukuna's entire demeanor shifts in that instant. He can feel her, and it is at once euphoric as the first draw of opium and icy like the chill of deep winter's jaws closing around him. The pressure of it is at war with his own, and having her power spilling in the well of his own soul is unsettling.
Who the hell is this woman?
Sukuna does not let her see any of this, only the tension in his jawline as he assesses the strength of this lovely dark woman with eyes like a moonless night.
You have my attention, little sorceress. Speak.
Roxanne smiles, draws her power back in, and winks.
"One minute, a friendly spar between you and me. No killing–"
Oh you're no fun.
"Hear me out, Lord Sukuna," she says, holding up her hands. He only refrains from cutting her in two because he likes the way she addresses him. "Just a friendly spar. I have no intentions of exorcizing you…but I do want to take a measure of where I stand. Perhaps…" She tilts her head just so, and Sukuna is reminded of a feline given human shape. His gaze settles on her mouth. Lips so full, shaped for something other than this meaningless prattle.
"Perhaps after this, one day we will face each other in a real battle."
No. He says the word casually, slipping it like a knife between the ribs. Roxanne blinks.
"Is it because of the no-killing thing?" Roxanne asks. Sukuna does not answer, merely walks away. Before Roxanne can protest, he casts her out of his innate domain. She comes back to herself, releasing Yuji from her hold and taking a few steps back. Nanami is by her side instantly, steadying her on her feet.
"So…?" Gojo prompts expectantly. Roxanne crosses her arms and sighs.
"He won't play ball," she says tersely, "and his cursed energy is bonkers, you know…"
"Oh, I'm aware," Gojo says, "still it would have been nice if he—"
It happens suddenly, a feeling like electricity building up a charge in the very air, like a storm cloud threatening rain and endless displays of lightning. The tension winds tight, and Roxanne feels her ears ringing in warning. Gojo moves first, and she moves a split second after him. Cursed energy builds beneath her feet, launching her forward at an incredible speed as she tackles Nanami out of the way.
Sukuna descends like a storm, cratering the ground beneath his strike that causes the ground to rumble. He stays where he is, crouched in Yuji's body and yet as Roxanne regains her footing and makes sure Nanami is alright, she gets the sense that the creature wearing Yuji's face is anything resembling the teenager.
He stands, tearing away his shirt, revealing the stark black tattoos on his form.
"Roxanne Abaza." Sukuna's voice is deep and resonant, and Roxanne feels the weight of her own name, feels Sukuna's very will like a pressure against her skin. It makes her uncomfortable in ways she is not sure she understands. Sukuna turns his gaze on her as the dust settles, the smaller set of eyes crinkling with a malicious mirth. His smile is wide, fangs gleaming.
"You have one minute of my time."
And then he strikes.
