They rendezvous back at headquarters.

As the team leader, Nanami lays out the plan for Itadori, Roxanne, and Ijichi. Itadori and Ijichi will investigate the only living witness, Junpei, while he and Roxanne track the residual cursed energy. The Windows have also been hard at work, tracking the residuals and narrowing it down to a general area. Looking at the map, Roxanne wagers whoever they're looking for isn't Junpei.

When they set out, Roxanne wants to laugh. Nanami is so protective in his way.

"You're gonna hamstring him doing that, you know," Roxanne says. Nanami does not stop in his pursuit, and they take a decommissioned tunnel to the underground sewers. Roxanne's nose wrinkles at the stench. But the pressure of cursed energy is unmistakable.

"There's no need to have him confronting every potential threat," Nanami says at last. "There is no sin in him being a child a while longer. Remember why we're doing this, Roxy."

Roxanne nods. "I know, but…no one was ever so gentle with us, Kento. And sooner or later he will be forced to confront threats greater than himself. If he wants to…if he hopes to survive long in this world–long enough to finish the task set out for him–then we can't afford to be–"

Nanami stops abruptly, forcing her to stop as well.

"Roxy," he says her name in that stern tone that brooks no room for argument. She listens, only because she loves him. "You and I weren't given a choice in this life, but we had more of a choice than Itadori ever will. I know his ability and status as Sukuna's vessel makes everyone forget but he is just fifteen years old. He didn't ask for this, but he is determined to see it through. I won't send him to a premature death just because we're short handed."

Roxanne comes to stand beside him. There is a shadow that hangs over Nanami, like the outlines of a cursed spirit. Premature death. Haibara. She closes her eyes briefly, and she can see Yu's face, pale and cold and lifeless, on a stainless steel slab. She can see the bloodstained sheet over his body, already dark and russet by the time she arrives to find Nanami seated before his body, a warm washcloth over his eyes. When he lifts it, his eyes are bruised with lack of sleep.

"He's not him," Roxanne whispers, and she reaches over to take his hand. He squeezes it, and for a moment it feels as if their breaths are synchronized.

"I know," Nanami says after a span of quiet, "and that's why we have to make sure Itadori can live as much of his life as he can for all that we're asking of him. He'll learn all he needs when the time comes. Besides, whoever we're dealing with wanted anyone looking for them to come here."

Roxanne allows herself a warm and proud smile. Nanami should have been a teacher at the school. She wagers they'd have a great deal more students to train with his careful guidance. Instead, they are here, in this stinking sewer, and the cursed energy pressure is building like a pressure behind her eyes.

The attack is sudden and jarring, but their minds are quicksilver, and they move as one out of the way of a disfigured appendage reaching from the shadows. Nanami unholsters his blade, and Roxanne assumes a fighting posture with lissome grace, her fists raised in a simultaneous defense and offense.

From the filth and grime of the sewers, several transfigured humans come to do the bidding of whoever holds their leash. Between Roxanne and Nanami, they dispatch the pitiful creatures rather easily. Roxanne finds that while they are transfigured, they still rupture at her touch due to the cursed energy used to create them. Nanami cleanly cuts down the rest and they return to one another, still quivering with energy, still alert.

"There's no use in continuing to hide," Nanami says, looking at his watch. "Let's wrap this up as soon as possible."

Roxanne feels a chill go down her spine as the cursed energy pressure shifts .

She turns, her gaze sharp and alert as a figure steps from the shadows as if born there. As she gets a closer look, she realizes that this may not be too far from the truth. Whatever they are–whatever this thing is—cursed energy rolls off of it in waves, a rancid aura that seems barely able to hold its own shape.

"The culprit, I presume." Roxanne says, her voice as hard as stone. Nanami's jaw tenses only slightly as he feels her cursed energy increase. Whatever this thing before them is, it has her ready for a fight, and he is just as ready. He studies its features, which at first glance appear human.

It walks like a man, talks like a man, but Nanami knows it is anything but. He sees the strange scars along its face, like stitches, giving it an almost corpse-like appearance.

"Frankenstein's monster," Roxanne says in a low voice, snorting her disgust and distaste in the same breath. "Except in twink form."

The creature smiles, pulling its patchwork face into a mockery of the human emotion of happiness. It holds up its hands, mismatched eyes empty of any trace of humanity. Because this thing is a cursed spirit. Roxanne knows it even before it attacks, knows it even as she and Nanami are separated as the thing displays its powers of transfiguration in real time.

It's disgusting.

The creature lacks remorse, it lacks humanity, it is the incarnation of humanity's disdain for itself. Roxanne hates it, but she knows that what they are dealing with is beyond Nanami's skills. She does not understand this ability, but she knows it requires touch, much like her own.

She breathes a sigh of relief when Nanami comes to the same conclusion.

"I'm glad Gojo Satoru didn't come down here to find me," the creature says glibly, effortlessly dodging Nanami and Roxanne's attacks. Roxanne can't afford to unleash her power here, with Nanami so close, but Nanami won't retreat either while he can still fight. Roxanne wonders how it even knows who Gojo is. Sentient cursed spirits don't usually make a habit of learning sorcerer names, but she supposes it was inevitable.

Nanami looks down at his watch as the cursed spirit speaks again, and Roxanne feels something in her stomach churning. Sophistry about the nature and shape of the soul? This thing sounds like every philosophy student she ever ran afoul of in college.

"It's 5:30," Nanami says, his brow furrowed, "so regardless of what happens, I'm clocking out at 6:00."

The creature's face is one of perfect confusion and Roxanne laughs.

"He's fucking serious," she says, ramping up her cursed energy in preparation, "I've never known this man to go overtime for shit." She moves quicker than a blink, but this thing is faster. Its head turns, and she catches a glimpse of its knowing smirk before a disfigured mass of flesh erupts between herself and it. It webs and plasters itself to the ceilings and walls, and effectively creates a barrier of transfigured flesh, separating her from Nanami.

"Oh fuck you!" She snaps, rearing back as she quiets the whisper of worry in her mind. She's about to draw back her fist when she sees something in the wall of flesh move and roil before parting.

A face. A face of whoever this used to be. She moves to strike it when something stops her.

" Help…me…" A voice croaks and groans. Roxanne realizes in a moment of fleeting horror that the wall of flesh is speaking. Tears form in the eyes, big fat drops leaking down the distended flesh. She knows this person is no longer alive, she knows whatever made them human has long since fled the mortal coil at the moment of transfiguration. She knows, and yet she watches as this thing weeps, as if a fragment of its soul remains trapped in this painful form. It is cruel. It is cruel and unfair. Beyond, she can hear Nanami fighting the creature, and hopes that she can rejoin him before things get out of hand.

"I'm so sorry…" Roxanne whispers, and strikes. The cursed energy in the transfigured human builds pressure, and the flesh ruptures in a spray of gore as she rejoins the fight.

She watches as Nanami's cursed energy flows to his center of gravity, watches as the creature presses his hand to Nanami's belly, almost intimately, as if it is an eager lover.

"Idle Transfiguration."

The explosion of energy makes Roxanne grit her teeth in discomfort. She sees Nanami stumble, sees the red stain of his blood in his shirt, but he is alive and he is himself. She thanks any deity willing to hear her, and joins the fray.

"Is he important to you?" The creature taunts. "You humans are always so funny about attachments. Assigning meaning to things that don't matter."

"Why don't you come touch me?" Roxanne snarls, eyes blazing with a hatred that owes everything to this creature being a cursed spirit and the fact that it dared put its hands on Nanami.

The creature's head cants at an unnatural angle, almost upside down as it regards her with that bland smile and those dead, mismatched eyes. It makes her skin crawl. At least Sukuna has the decency to be charming in his way. This thing is repugnant.

She remembers the poor disfigured creature's desperate plea, and does not wait. The thing is strong, and growing stronger, gathering its cursed energy to meet her blow for blow. She is careful, and knows that if she unleashes her domain she can crush this thing, but Nanami will get caught in it, and that will kill him as surely as this thing almost did.

She settles instead on buying him time…or rather, wasting time.

It's enough that the creature doesn't notice as Nanami loosens his tie, wrapping it around his fist. It does notice the increase in energy, however. That gives it pause, even as Roxanne catches her breath. Nanami's fist is as obdurate as a mountain, and Roxanne smiles.

"Oh now you've done it, you zombie twink," she laughs. The creature is puzzled but intrigued, turning its focus to Nanami.

"He fucking hates overtime."


They retreat before Nanami can truly unleash more of his power, but it is for the best. They both know it, and as they leave, Roxanne is grateful they live to fight another day. She puts an arm around Nanami as they emerge into the sun once more, and she feels him lean into her for support.

"How bad is it?" She asks him. Nanami grits his teeth as they ascend more stairs out of the drain and into the street proper. They duck off into an alley.

"I'll live," Nanami says. "But I wish you'd have used your domain."

Roxanne frowns. "I couldn't be sure you could get out of range in time. And I can't touch that creature either. Whatever fucked up thing it does requires touch and we don't know enough about it to know what it'll do to me if I make too much contact."

She's not sure she has what it takes to activate her technique before it can activate its own. There are too many variables, and she'd rather she and Nanami solve this mystery together than one of them losing their lives unnecessarily.

Nanami calls Ijichi, while Roxanne rummages around in her hip bag, retrieving a menstrual pad.

"," she says, and Nanami lifts his shirt, showing an ugly wound that looks more like an acid burn than anything. She unwraps the pad, placing it over the wound to staunch the bleeding. He grunts in pain, but Roxanne is as gentle as she can be, her fingers wet with his blood.

"We need to exorcize that cursed spirit soon," Nanami says once he's off the phone. "That thing is beyond my abilities, and hinders your ability to use your own technique against it without endangering yourself."

Roxanne snorts, making sure the pad-turned-bandage is secure.

"Satoru is who it's worried about, so it must not be strong enough to act openly yet." She says and Nanami nods in agreement. "You need to head over to Shoko for treatment. I think it's starting to clot, at least, but I don't trust that thing not to have tainted you with its cursed energy somehow."

"I will," Nanami says as Ijichi pulls up to their location. Before they enter the car, he takes her hand. "Thank you. Had you not stepped in, I fear he might have succeeded in the next few blows."

Roxanne smiles. "Always, Kento." They slip into the car, and Roxanne gives a subtle shake of her head at Ijichi's alarmed expression seeing the blood stains on Nanami's shirt. The ride is silent for the most part, but Nanami never lets go of her bloodstained hand the entire way there.

At the school, Roxanne gives Nanami a private kiss of farewell, and he leans in, lingering in the moment for a minute longer.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he says, a promise he intends to keep. "I'll make my report to Gojo and see how he wants to proceed. You should get some sleep." A small smirk curls his mouth. "You look exhausted."

Roxanne wants to nudge him, but she's mindful of his injury.

"Go let Shoko patch you up, and then you go home. Satoru can fucking wait until you've had some rest at least."

Nanami smiles but he does not make any promises, turning and heading toward the medical wing of the school. Roxanne waits until she can no longer see him before she turns to leave. She decides to walk, to take in everything, to breathe the fresh night air, and to curse herself for the sentimentality. Had she used her domain, Nanami would be dead, but so too the cursed spirit. Had she used her technique, the exorcism may have been successful, but she risked becoming a transfigured soul herself.

The creature that masquerades as a mockery of man mentioned Gojo Satoru specifically. She knows that Gojo is the lynchpin to all of this. Everyone fears him: sorcerers and spirits alike. She has never had the opportunity to see his full power on display, but she knows it is formidable. She's sparred him more than once, and it was enough to take a measure of just how vast the gap was between their abilities.

She calls a rideshare when she's close enough to the city proper, as forest gives way to concrete and neon. She feels a few droplets of rain on her face, and is thankful when her ride arrives to take her the rest of the way home. Once there, she moves on autopilot, showering and heading to bed. There, she sleeps, dreamless and dark save for four red eyes smirking in the shadows of her mind, watchful and amused.


Yuji has befriended Junpei, and Roxanne wants to shake the kid until his teeth rattle in his head. But he reports what she and Nanami already know: he can see curses but is not himself a curse user or sorcerer. She does smile to see his relief in delivering the news, but also the excitement. She knows he wants to invite Junpei to the school, to see if his ability to see curses extends to anything else. Roxanne thinks it's unlikely, but there is one question nagging at her mind.

"Why'd Patchwork Twink spare the kid? Especially since the kid saw it?" Roxanne demands, frustrated when her mind turns up no logical answers.

"Who can say?" Nanami responds, his gaze looking out over the lake beyond the window of the meeting room. "From what I gather that thing behaves like a child just learning its own strength. It could have been amusement, whim, or perhaps it didn't perceive Junpei as a threat once it did what it did. Either way, the boy merits watching."

Roxanne stretches her legs out in front of her.

"Well, Itadori seems happy enough to handle surveillance." She says. Nanami's gaze turns to her, a brow raising.

"What?" Roxanne asks, holding up her hands. "He's made friends with the kid, is all. I just don't want this to turn sour. It's clear we're dealing with something serious here regarding this cursed spirit."

On that, Nanami does not disagree.

"Did you tell him about the Finger and what happened to Junpei's mother?" Roxanne asks. Nanami shakes his head.

"No point," he says, "and it wouldn't do him any good. We need him focused and on mission right now. He won't be much good if he's blaming himself."

Roxanne sighs. "Someone is targeting him." She says firmly. Nanami holds her gaze, inviting her to go on.

"Itadori is Sukuna's vessel," Roxanne continues. "And unless Junpei was just twirling his hair with an unsealed Finger, I find it hard to believe it was just lying around their home before he met Itadori." Though it might explain the miserable aura of that boy. Roxanne chides herself for being uncharitable, but Junpei has the look of someone who just watched his dog get kicked.

"You think there's some conspiracy to target Itadori?" Nanami asks. Roxanne shrugs.

"Maybe," she replies, looking at her phone to see a missed call from Gojo. "But…does this not all feel…strangely conspicuous to you? The Elders voted unanimously to kill him, and even tried to arrange it."

"They'll try again if he's revealed to be alive." Nanami says. Roxanne nods. Both are hesitant to consider the far-reaching implications of this. A cursed spirit that can philosophize about the nature and shape of the soul, and transform humans into deformed creatures to do its bidding.

"Gojo's plan will work," Nanami says, pulling her out of her thoughts. "We have to trust him and do what we can to ensure Itadori's continued survival. Even if it means giving our lives…god sorcerers are such shit."

Roxanne chuckles. "We really are because did you hear yourself just now?" Nanami's brow goes up again.

"Is…" Roxanne hesitates, considering her words carefully. "Is death the only outcome for this work? Is that all we have?"

"It's all anyone has, Roxy," Nanami says. "It is the only thing any of us in this world have in common. Even curses."

Roxanne hates that he's right. It feels so bleak. She thinks of Yuji's wide-eyed and guileless face, his determination and charming hard-headedness. Stubborn as the roots of a mighty oak, but not averse to abrupt change. Only fifteen years old, the same age she was when she came to Japan for the first time. She wonders how Gojo shoulders this burden knowing one of his most promising students marches toward his own death so willingly.

"You need to train, in the meanwhile," Nanami says, and she startles, brow furrowing. He does not change his tone. "You said yourself your fight with Sukuna had you working for every bit of ground you gained. Well, we need to get you stronger."

Roxanne smirks. "And what do you have in mind, baby?"

Nanami shifts, crossing one leg over the other. "You need to train with Gojo. You're a special grade sorcerer, and you held your own for a full minute against Sukuna. Next time he decides to manifest you may not even get that. Remember: even as we search for the Fingers the curse that is Sukuna grows stronger by the day."

Roxanne nods, pinching the bridge of her nose. She doesn't even know how to begin to train to potentially face Sukuna in the future. She's been hoping Gojo figured it out and would solve the problem before she has to be called in. And then there's that kid, Yuta. He's even stronger than her, but has yet to show his face.

"Fine," Roxanne says at last. "I'll get on that."

"It'll have to be after the sister school event," Nanami says and Roxanne frowns again.

"Wait, is it that time of year already?" She asks. "Fuck. Well, yeah, I guess so. Gojo's busy as hell, it's gonna be hard to pin him down. Why don't we train together?"

Nanami chuckles. "We both know you're stronger than me, now. I have nothing left to teach you except maybe more caution. You play a little fast and loose for my taste."

Roxanne grins sheepishly, and he admires the glint of her teeth, the dimples in her cheeks, the way her eyes seem to sparkle. He wants her to take this seriously. She's almost as detached as Gojo when it comes to fighting. That same reckless, mad-eyed joy. He wonders why he has never felt that euphoria, even in victory. Only relief that the work is done and he lives to go home another day.

"I relish a challenge, Kento," Roxanne says, as if reading his thoughts, "I don't think I should feel bad about that. There's something very freeing about being good at something and succeeding in applying it expertly. You should take the time to savor your victories, lover."

Nanami can't help but smile at that. It amazes him that a woman so starkly different has his heart in her hand. Does she even know she has his heart in her hand? When she gets up and comes over to slide intimately into his lap and kiss him, he has his confirmation.

"Everything will be alright," she whispers, and Nanami loses himself in the scent of her perfume: jasmine. Sweet and warm, much like her. His hands come to her waist, gripping her firm and familiar. He takes off his glasses, meeting her gaze with his own in full.

"How can you be so sure?" He asks her, his voice quiet, but his tone certain. She cants her head, smiling.

"I can't," she says, "but I have to believe everything will be fine, otherwise what's all this for?" She cups his face in her hands, kissing him again and again.

"Anymore meetings today?" She asks. Nanami looks at his watch, making her laugh.

"It's a quarter till 6. If anyone wants a meeting they can request one for the next business day."

Roxanne laughs.

"Wanna get out of here?"


The buzzing of his phone on the nightstand is what wakes him. Nanami shifts out of sleep like a waking dreamer, reluctant to peel himself from the side of the woman asleep next to him. Roxanne can sleep through a typhoon, but he will not fault her for it. He answers his phone, at first groggy as he listens, and then quickly gathering his wits to full alertness.

He does not apologize for waking Roxanne, who grumbles as she shifts and rolls over to look at him.

"What is it?" She mumbles sleepily. Nanami resists the urge to reach out and caress her face, so he freezes her sleepy face in his mind, locks it in the private chambers of his heart, and tells her the bad news. He watches alertness return to her gaze, sharpening with startling clarity. Wordlessly, she climbs out of bed and he follows behind her. They dress in silence, utilitarian and quick, and Roxanne yawns as they leave her apartment.

Nanami calls Yuji, trying to ascertain his location, and is unsurprised to find he's with Junpei. Roxanne listens to him tell Yuji to stay put and then sighs after he hangs up.

"We're gonna have to save that stupid boy, aren't we?" Roxanne asks, her voice still gravelly and smoky from the hour. Nanami says nothing, calls another number: Ino Takuma. Roxanne listens as he puts another plan in place, setting Ino to the task of dealing with transfigured humans while he and Roxanne head to deal with the recently dropped veil, likely where the cursed spirit is…along with Junpei and Itadori. She shares a smile with her reflection in the car window, privately admiring Nanami's unflappable leadership. She's always admired how level-headed and sharp he is in crisis. He never cracks under pressure, and he always has a plan.

"Oh, you were right: this shit is fire," Roxanne sighs in relief, leaning her head back against the wall. The steaming washcloth over her eyes initially felt too hot, but eventually, the pressure building in her temples and behind her eyes began to disperse, and she feels like her head is easier to carry on her shoulders.

"Fire?" Nanami's tone is questioning, not understanding. Roxanne laughs.

"Fire," she repeats, "like…it's really great. I forget we don't share idioms, my bad." She laughs, rolling the tension from her shoulders.

Nanami smiles. "It's an easy remedy for relieving the pressure from perceiving cursed energy constantly. Kind of like when you stare at a screen too long."

"Yeah, I get it," Roxanne says, stretching her legs out in front of her. "Definitely better than popping an oxy and praying you're unconscious before it gets worse, for sure. Or doing ketamine."

Nanami snorts. "Was that your remedy before you came here?"

Roxanne holds up a finger. "Aht aht! Don't take that snooty tone with me, pookie. I got by how I got by with no guidance. I was splattering cursed spirits when you were still figuring out how to channel your energy."

"You still telegraph all your punches," Nanami says and Roxanne huffs.

"You're supposed to be helping me relieve my headache," she mutters. Nanami smiles from beneath his own washcloth, which is starting to cool.

"If you're worried I'm still using other remedies, I'm not," Roxanne says, all traces of humor gone. "That was one of the conditions of my matriculation, you see: I stay clean(ish) and they don't brand me a curse user and give me proper jujutsu training. Although I prefer the term 'vigilante', but you know how the Elders are about labeling folks."

Nanami says nothing, considering her words.

"Doesn't stop me from smoking a joint every now and then, though," she laughs. Nanami won't argue with her on that point.

"How did you learn Japanese so quickly?" Nanami asks. Roxanne peels her washcloth from her face and Nanami sits up and removes his own to look at her. She grins.

"Oh," she laughs, "that. One of your fancy sorcerers or recruiters has the ability to transfer knowledge using cursed energy. She basically downloaded the requisite Japanese education into my brain. The part that's developed for jujutsu, I guess. Time was of the essence, you see."

Nanami blinks in blatant wonder. The manifestations of techniques are always something of a marvel to him. No two techniques are exactly alike, no two sorcerers fight the same way. Everything about jujutsu is so highly tailored to the individual sorcerers he almost laughs at himself for not realizing that of course there would be a technique that transfers knowledge.

Suddenly, he sees Roxanne not as a foreigner and stranger, but as a fellow sorcerer.

The veil keeps her out.

"Oh, guess who was right about that fucker being scared of Gojo," Roxanne sneers, more at the veil than at Nanami, whose hand passes through the veil with ease.

"It would seem the veil is tailored to keep special grade sorcerers out," he says, and Roxanne wishes he would sound at least a little annoyed. She taps on the veil, which sounds like glass beneath her touch.

"And it's reinforced too—oh that twink bastard—I'm gonna splatter him all over Shinjuku, I swear to Christ." Roxanne hisses. She takes a deep breath, and exhales, calm returning. "This is gonna take some time for me to shatter, babe. Go on ahead before that boy lets Sukuna out and kills the wrong people."

Nanami nods, his hand brushing her own, their pinkies linking briefly as he vanishes inside the veil. Roxanne cracks her knuckles and begins to stretch.

Alright, then, she thinks smugly, I got something for that ass.