October 31, 2018 22:30
Deep in the bowels of Meiji-Jingumae Station, there is only the oppressive weight of silence, the misty remains of utter absence in the wake of a battle. Amidst a frozen crowd of humans, still locked in the after effects of a power beyond their comprehension, the charred remains of a corpse began to stir.
Flesh, gnarled and blackened by cursed flame, cracked as something stirred to life. More wet cracking, and tearing, flesh pulling apart like meat in a butcher's hands, bones cracking and breaking as a pair of arms, slick with blood and lymph, burst from the corpse's chest. The hands peeled away the skin and bone, sloughing it off as Roxanne stood to her full height, her naked body slick with blood and gore, dripping from her curls, weighed down with it.
A raven caws, perched on one of the signs of the train platform. Roxanne eyes it. The raven launches toward her and Roxanne opens her arms as it plunges into her chest, turning to black smoke. Beneath her breasts, the raven spreads its wings, sporting its seven eyes: one of which is now closed.
Roxanne glances around, waiting for her senses to align with her new body, while her soul soaks into the new flesh. She steps out of the mess of her old corpse, leaving bloody footprints as she looks around. Not far from where Gojo once stood, a crater is in its place. She sees residual cursed energy, powerful enough that whatever it was had left its weight on the platform. She smells the cursed spirits that lingered, but now she is alone with nothing but civilians frozen in place. From their stunned and drooling expressions she wagers Gojo used his domain. That they're alive is a miracle.
What happened?
I died?
Roxanne looks at the ruined mess of her corpse again, and her senses settle fully. She feels him, he's close, and the red ichor thread constricts around her heart and soul anew. She flickers through her memories like a film reel. Resurrection is disorienting, she remembers reading. She's never had to use it before, but she does not regret making that pact in exchange for the shikigami–called Guradaan. But if she's burned one of her resurrections it means a decade has been shaved from her lifespan.
Worth it, if it means we can still salvage this shit show. Where is Satoru?
Roxanne can't sense him anywhere, but she feels Sukuna's presence, loud and insistent, and before she knows it she's moving, one foot in front of the other. Something vast and incomprehensible compels her, stitching itself over her heart and soul until Sukuna's presence burns like a divine fire, its pressure immense.
He's loose .
She hides, knowing he can see her, but he's busying himself with two girls…and Jogo. They're kneeling, and one of the girls is muttering something. Roxanne cannot believe the pressure of his presence. How many Fingers has Itadori consumed? This power imbalance is beyond her expectations of how this night would go. She's already died once.
The Vow, she thinks, willing her heart to stop racing. The Vow protects you from him. He can't harm you.
But she knows Sukuna is cunning. She's crossed wits with him before. He will find away to harm her somehow.
The two girls are trembling as they raise their heads from their kneel. They cling to each other like two children in comfort. Immediately, one of their heads vanishes in a spray of blood. The other girl, Roxanne realizes they are sisters , becomes hysterical, shrieking before holding up her phone. Roxanne barely detects a blip in the girl's cursed energy before Sukuna takes her head as well, and splatters her against the wall and floor. All that is left of her is blood. There would be no identifying her.
What horrifies Roxanne is that Sukuna is wearing Yuji's face to do this. It is…it is very different from their domain visits. Seeing him in the flesh again chills her blood in a way nothing else can. She sees his head turn briefly, his eyes settling on her location.
He smirks knowingly. This next part is not for her to witness, his smirk tells her.
Roxanne takes that as her only warning and slinks away. She needs to find clothes, and then she needs to find any other sorcerers and prepare them for the worst case scenario.
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck—why did we think letting Sukuna gain power in an attempt to exorcize him was a good idea? Where the fuck is Gojo? He can't be dead, can he? Fuck. Where is Nanami?
Her thoughts run an Olympic circuit through her mind, even as she kills transfigured humans on the way, unthinking and heedless of her nudity. She's fought assassins and curse users in nothing but her skin and cursed energy before. Still, she'd rather have some comfortable shoes at least.
In a moment of expedient joy, she lets out a hysterical laugh at the image of her running around in nothing but sneakers. She smashes the window of a storefront, snatching clothes off the rack, settling on a simple black bodysuit, a pair of black sneakers, and a harness in case she needs to haul anything.
"Tch, more like I'll probably be hauling ass all over Shibuya at this rate," she mutters to herself, testing out the reach and flexibility in her chosen outfit, and the comfort of the sneakers she wore. Then, she stepped back out into the streets, hearing the sounds of battle in the distance.
Sukuna's energy is like radiation, felt far and wide, raising the hackles of everyone it touches. For everyone else, they are paralyzed with terror, but Roxanne feels something in her yearning to be closer to him, to the power he exudes like a heady perfume. She knows it is the Vow, because every instinct in her mind tells her she should be terrified.
Roxanne finds Kusakabe and Panda in a standoff between themselves and two curse users. Roxanne recognizes them from JJH's files as former members of Geto Suguru's extremist group. When they see her, they freeze, feeling her cursed energy. She joins Kusakabe, making claws with her hands.
"Miss Abaza," Kusakabe greets curtly, but before he can say much else and explosion snatches their attention. It sounds like a whole city block is being leveled.
"I don't know what's going on here, but two special grades started beefing," Kusakabe says urgently, pleading with the curse users to abandon this foolish battle in favor of self-preservation. Roxanne feels the back of her neck tingling. He's getting closer. And something large is following him. A meteor of cursed flame. He's leading it right to their location.
"Kusakabe!" She yells, turning suddenly. "Run!"
"I forbid it."
Everyone freezes, Roxanne included.
Sukuna is standing next to Kusakabe, close enough that he can probably kill the scruffy sorcerer easily in what can only be described as an artistic amount of bloodshed. Instead, Sukuna locks eyes with Roxanne as he raises his hand, smiling widely.
"I hereby forbid anyone within a 100-meter radius from moving until I say," Sukuna announces as if he's reading the rules of his favorite game to new players. "And of course, I will kill anyone who breaks this rule."
Roxanne knows a threat when she hears one. She holds his gaze, sweat making her skin glisten, her skin sticky with dried blood.
Sukuna walks toward her. No one moves. If she is to die, no hand will dare lift to save her.
"Not yet," Sukuna murmurs, unbothered by the searing meteor descending on them. He is close enough to look down at Roxanne, his eyes cold, his smile colder. He reaches up, tilts her chin to make her look up at him, runs an unhurried thumb over her lower lip, smearing blood on his hands.
He lifts his thumb to his mouth, tasting her blood, never breaking her gaze.
"Now," he says and scoops Roxanne around the waist. She watches Kuskabe and Panda scatter as the meteor crushes the bridge, collapses the entire block, and spits flaming asphalt and glass everywhere. The world is a blur as Sukuna holds her securely to him, coming to stand atop what she can only surmise would have killed them all had they not been savvy enough. Sukuna had treated them like pieces on a gameboard. This destruction, this calamity, this is his domain beyond his innate domain.
She feels sick. To think she ever thought there was anything human remaining inside of him. He is a curse, and that is all he will ever be.
Sukuna sets her down and she sways a little on her feet. He does not move to support her, instead walking forward to taunt Jogo for having missed.
"So it's true, then," Jogo says, voice mystified that not only had he failed to land a single blow on the King of Curses during their entire battle, but that he'd marked the same human he was certain he'd killed earlier. "You marked her."
Sukuna says nothing, but his smirk deepens into a grin.
Jogo knows now what must be done.
"Come," Sukuna says to him, "Let me match you with your signature element."
The world around them takes another indrawn breath, and Roxanne watches, entranced as Sukuna's hands weave an intricate pattern.
"開,"
Roxanne sucks in a breath, eyes wide as flames dance into Sukuna's palm. She stares, mesmerized. Even Jogo is shocked.
"How are you doing this?" He asks, his voice fearful and awed at the same time. Roxanne thinks they will never be done underestimating the depth of Sukuna's power for as long as they live.
"Ah, I suppose you wouldn't know only being a cursed spirit," Sukuna gloats easily, and the flames dance like a silk scarf caught in a breeze, yet wholly obedient to his exacting control over his cursed energy. Roxanne dares not breathe too loudly, using this time to harden her body with cursed energy, preparing for what may be her death. Again.
"I won't be petty and tell you about the technique," Sukuna continues, giving a slight acceding nod. He means to win this contest by base skill alone. "Arm yourself, spirit, let us have a contest of firepower."
Roxanne sees Jogo's fear, wonders if he knows he is doomed. He mimics Sukuna's movements in a way, flames dancing in his grasp. Sukuna forms his flame into a single arrow, knocked onto his two fingers. Roxanne has a brief glimpse of what he must have looked like in his prime.
There is a flash of light as Sukuna looses the arrow and it lances across the battlefield like a beacon. Roxanne shields her eyes briefly, wishing she had stolen Nanami's glasses, but when the light dims, she sees.
All that remains of the cursed spirit is ash. An exorcism.
You're more than a curse.
Roxanne exhales, and wonders why she can see the fog of her breath. A chill curls around her and she looks next to her to see a figure dressed in simple white, a red and white bob of hair, kneeling in respect. Sukuna returns to both of them. Roxanne has no idea who this person with the bob is [though she'd venture to say it is a nice bob, so perhaps a Robert is more apt].
"Uraume," Sukuna greets and for the first time Roxanne hears a note of unalloyed joy in his voice. Uraume, now named, remains kneeling, but shoots a poisonous look at Roxanne.
"Lord Sukuna," they say in utmost reverence, "your return has been highly anticipated. Who is this woman that does not kneel before you?"
Roxanne faces Sukuna, and he grins, slinking toward her. She wants to try and attack him but she can't. He wants to cut her throat just to see her horrified expression as she dies on her knees before him, but he can't.
"An insurance policy," Sukuna says with a smirk that could chill the devil's own fiery blood. "See to it that no harm befalls her, and do not slack on our operations."
"Of course, Lord Sukuna," Uraume says, never raising their eyes to look upon him. Roxanne turns the puzzle in her mind, but she is still too newly resurrected to sort through her memory backlog. All she has is the most recent events. The rest is hazy.
Sukuna looks away from Roxanne toward the distant streets shrouded in darkness.
"My lord?"
"I've an urgent matter to attend to," he does not elaborate, nor does he give warning before he has Roxanne about the waist and they are off. Roxanne instinctively clings to Sukuna as they move at a speed that is as disorienting as Gojo's warp. They come to a rooftop overlooking a square, and Roxanne feels immense power that rivals Sukuna's own.
Gojo…? Her mind thinks in delirious hope. But no, it is not Gojo. It is something worse. Roxanne spies a figure slumped against a far wall, haloed by their own blood. She focuses and can feel a glimmer of Megumi's cursed energy. Another sorcerer—a curse user—is fleeing in a futile effort away from the shikigami that Roxanne knows Megumi has summoned.
Sukuna sighs in annoyance.
"See to the brat," he snaps at her, and is gone before she can process it. She follows, watching as Sukuna grabs the other sorcerer by the scruff of his shirt, carrying him easily before the massive shikigami could turn him into a smear on the pavement.
Roxanne kneels next to Megumi, her brow knitting in concern. She places her finger under his nose. His breath is so faint she almost misses it.
"A suspended animation," Sukuna says, dropping the other sorcerer unceremoniously, calling him a piece of trash for good measure. Roxanne agrees. "Fushiguro summoned that shikigami in a subjugation ritual, and this piece of shit is a part of it. If he dies, Megumi dies too."
"Heal him," Roxanne says quickly and his gaze darts down at her, imperious and unfeeling. "Sukuna, please."
Inwardly, he is pleased. The less it looks like he is interested in Megumi for his own plans, the more likely they are to let their guard down. He smirks.
"Is this a request of my queen?" He asks, almost mockingly, his tone too saccharine to be genuine. Roxanne takes a deep breath, remembering how his touch felt like a scar when he was holding them all hostage earlier. But she had yearned for it too.
"Yes," she whispers. "That shikigami is bad news for all of us if you don't."
Sukuna reaches down, places a hand on Megumi's chest.
Not yet, little Fushiguro, he thinks with a fox's grin. There's still something I need you to do for me.
Sukuna pours his cursed energy into Megumi, and Roxanne breathes a sigh of relief when the boy breathes deeply and stabilizes.
"Thank you," she says to Sukuna, and he says nothing, walking forward.
"Time for a tasting," he says and Roxanne hears it again: that mad glee. That happiness . Gojo had it. Sukuna had it. Deep down, she knows she has it too. All she has to do is stop holding herself back.
She is sure, for as long as she lives, there will never be another battle that compares to what happens in Shibuya that night. She is sure, even if she lives to old age without burning out every single resurrection, she will never be able to adequately describe what she witnesses…what she inevitably participates in.
Sukuna unleashed is as much curse as blessing. Though he bade her stay with Megumi, knowing he intended to leave them unharmed, Roxanne feels that red ichor thread tugging on her. She longs to fight alongside him, but this battle is beyond her comprehension. Sukuna cares nothing for the destruction he leaves in his wake, and she notes with increased awareness that he is deliberately leading the battle away from hers and Megumi's location.
The Eight-Handled Sword Divergent Sila Divine General Mahoraga—a fucking mouthful to describe a fucking handful. Roxanne remembers reading about the Ten Shadows Technique during one of her long nights in the JJH library. As a foreigner, she played a lot of catch-up, learning in her first year what most of her peers had known since coming into their powers at a young age. It was a bitter reminder, of course, and even being designated as a special grade sorcerer hadn't done much to make much of the jujutsu community see her as anything but a foreign interloper. Not that it bothers her now, with her track record and reputation making her position unassailable.
She glances at Megumi's unconscious form, marveling. To summon such a being takes incredible strength, and he'd done so as a sort of murder-suicide pact with the piece of shit sorcerer trying his damndest to get away but finding himself trapped.
Above, a god does battle with another god.
Roxanne can barely follow it, and so she gathers her strength, and shields herself and Megumi.
She feels a familiar prickling at the nape of her neck, a warning and somewhat else. Sukuna is planning to do something, and when he does it, Roxanne will need to be ready. But what does he expect her to do?
The night grows deeper, the shadows more sinister, and an ocean of blood washes away the landscape of Tokyo, and Roxanne realizes too late what has happened.
Sukuna has activated his domain expansion, and she can make out the edge, too far for her to run, and now she ducks, hearing the sound of slashing all around her, watching as everything—everything!—is carved to pieces. Everything and everyone within the domain is maimed or killed if they do not escape beyond its perimeter in time.
Everyone save Megumi, the curse user, and Roxanne.
It only lasts for a few minutes, and then the heat, a blinding flash, and Roxanne activates domain amplification on instinct, before she dares to look up. The divine flames dissipate unnaturally, and all around her is a flat, desolate landscape where Sukuna's domain had once been.
Everything is gone, turned to ash. Roxanne leans over, emptying her stomach onto the ground in horror.
All those people, hiding in the buildings, trapped in the railways…
She doesn't want to think about it.
Sukuna is standing before her and she climbs to her feet.
"What have you done?" She demands, her voice raspy and hoarse from disuse. Sukuna frowns, his eyes narrowing.
"A favor to you…and the brat." He says. Then, he reaches up, uses his thumb to wipe one of the tears caught in the corner of her big, beautiful brown eyes. He brings his thumb to his lips. The salt of her blood tastes amazing, but the salt of her tears is nectar of the gods.
"Don't fret, little lotus," Sukuna laughs. "Soon we'll see something interesting and all of this will make sense. After all, I keep my promises."
He looks down at Megumi. "Get him to your healer woman," he orders, as if she too is a subordinate he can command like that underling, Uraume. "And try to stay close to the brat. With Gojo sealed, it's only a matter of time before they send someone to execute him. And that would be a serious hindrance to my plans."
Roxanne gasped. Gojo? Sealed? Is that why she can't sense him? Sukuna ignores her shocked expression, tracing the soft satin of her tear and bloodstained cheek, along her jaw, and over her lips. He enjoys her mouth even more now that he can feel her in the flesh.
"Even lovelier in the flesh," he says, and pauses, looking off into the distance briefly, as if he is listening for distant music only he can hear. It's almost time. Better make this quick.
"Did you really mark me?" Roxanne's voice finds its way again, and Sukuna looks down, as if startled from a daydream.
"Hm?" He wonders. "Oh! Ah, I see. Yes, I did mark you. I told you this while I did it. Did you think I spoke in jest?"
Roxanne's brow furrows. "In wha–yeah, I thought you were fuckin' with me. What do these marks do?"
"They don't violate the Pact," Sukuna says by way of explanation and little else. Roxanne frowns.
"Sukuna, what do the marks do?" She asks again. Sukuna looks at the other sorcerer.
"Are you eavesdropping on a private conversation between me and my wife?"
The curse user—Roxanne finally recognizes him as Haruta, a deranged little goblin of a sorcerer who is as sadistic as he is insane . She isn't sorry for what's about to happen to him, but she can pity him. One can only pray that Sukuna does not consider one worthy of his notice. And Haruta might have gotten away, in some other life, where he is capable of keeping his fool mouth shut.
But he just has to gloat as he is given a rare gift of keeping his life from the King of Curses himself.
And Sukuna simply blinks, and Haruta is no more, bisected cleanly and collapsing in a spill of blood and entrails.
"This conversation isn't over," Roxanne says, regaining her confidence. Sukuna looks down at her, and through the eyes of Itadori, she can't help but thinks he looks like an insolent and petulant teenager rather than a fearsome god that had sorcerers bending the knee a thousand years ago. He must see the amusement in her expression because his lip curls in a sneer.
"It is only by the grace of our Pact that I have not split your chest open and eaten your heart, little lotus," he says it as if it is an endearing love token, as if he is sweet talking her. Roxanne is nauseated by the idea, and compelled too. She wants him to touch her, and feels horrible for it.
"Then as your queen, I demand a private audience," she says, mustering up her most imperious tone. "Later."
Sukuna grins. Devilish and handsome and alluring and terrifying all in the same scintillating turn.
"Mm. I will grant this audience, little lotus. Perhaps you can convince me to let you in if you can sweeten the pot."
Roxanne doesn't miss his intentions.
"Not while you occupy the body of a child, I'm afraid."
Sukuna frowns at being denied, but he snorts. It is a fair denial he must admit. The boy is a virgin, and very young, and this body has not been conditioned by anything but his hand and some very boring pornography. What he wants to do to Roxanne here in the ashes of his victorious battlefield will require all four of his arms, and everything else that entails.
The thought of her tangled up in his arms, enduring him as he filled her in every orifice he could get away with, makes him painfully hard. He sees Roxanne's disgusted look and chuckles. Add this to the list of things the boy will have to contend with when he finally returns. Roxanne takes Megumi and shoulders his weight. Sukuna warps them both, and is gone before Roxanne can blink.
"Abaza?" It's Shoko, who is on a bridge above them. Roxanne looks up, and weariness claims her, and the last thing she hears is Shoko's alarmed voice, following her down to the dark.