Since the night Nadja first crossed paths with Sukuna a thousand years ago she had glimpsed for the briefest instant, a piece of the pattern closing in on her life. Every few millennia—every few worlds—she would find them. That one who would shift her life in ways previously unexplored. Sukuna was one such individual, and if their time together had not been memorable enough, Nadja had bore him a daughter out of the entire deal.
The only issue was: Sukuna had no idea she existed, and now he was awake and aware, lurking within the body of a young boy. Nadja knew that a countdown had begun from the moment her daughter's seals had broken. It was only a matter of time before Sukuna became aware of her. The cursed energy was unmistakable according to Gojo. Still, Nadja knew she did not have much time, and perhaps there was a way to reactivate the seals before things got beyond their ability to control.
She remembered Gojo mentioning that a binding vow would be the only thing that would break them and she cursed herself for trusting that foolish curse user. Humans were by and large a distrustful lot, but forced to walk amongst them as she was, she tolerated their petty betrayals without too much retaliation. Unlike other entities in the world, she could not slaughter whom she pleased when she pleased.
As she and Gojo warped to his residence after a "quick stop" to Sendai for kikufuku, she turned over in her mind only the facts, focusing on things that were within her control. Sundari was unsealed, and doubtless she was regaining her strength. There had been no incidents that she could find that held Sundari's signature, meaning she had gained control of her abilities. That was good. A binding vow had broken her seal at the precise moment her father incarnated in the flesh.
Why?
That was the only variable Nadja needed to put the puzzle together. Until then, she set it aside in her mind, walking at a brisk pace to keep up with Gojo's long strides through the lobby toward the elevator that took them to his penthouse. It occurred to Nadja that she'd never been to his private residence before, preferring to work without his interference whenever she had business in Japan. Her lack of cursed energy fascinated [and dare she say frightened] him, and it was always a challenge for him to track her down whenever she was in the country. He'd turned looking for her into a sport, and she'd turned threatening him into a tacit approval for him to sharpen his skills.
And now he'd told her he had been harboring her daughter for the past month and a half.
Nadja realized she hated everything about this situation and not just because Gojo had insinuated that he and Sundari had slept together.
The elevator dinged, the doors slid open, and Gojo strode out into the penthouse's foyer, taking off his shoes.
"Sundari!" He called, wandering into the kitchen. "You home? I've got something important to show you! And I brought treats!"
Nadja took off her shoes, and attempted to follow Gojo's meandering trail, giving up when he vanished up the stairs, presumably to his bedroom. Gods above, were they sharing a bed?
Nadja's brows went up at the sound of shrill laughter, her heightened senses listening as Gojo kissed her daughter, presumably on the lips from Sundari's muffled response. Then it was quiet before she heard and then saw them descend down the steps. Gojo's hand clasped hers, and when Sundari's garnet eyes—all four of them—spotted Nadja standing in the living room, she froze. Her hand slipped from Gojo's quickly, the soft and easy expression she wore hardening into a rigid neutrality that even centuries later pained Nadja to see turned against her.
She deserved it, no doubt.
"Mother," Sundari said, in a clipped and formal tone. "You're looking well."
"As are you, daughter," Nadja replied, her tone decidedly less clipped. She saw Sundari's body tense, as if bracing for something. "How have you been?"
Sundari let out a dry laugh, a breathless, derisive sound.
"Satoru," Sundari said, and the white haired sorcerer was by her side. "Can you give us a minute?" Nadja watched, eyes narrowing slightly as the two of them exchanged a glance. A question asked, and then answered. Gojo's hand went to Sundari's waist, giving it a gentle, loving squeeze before she pressed her forehead to his and shut her eyes, a profound gesture of love on her part.
Had this bastard seduced her daughter?
Before she could ask, Gojo blinked out of sight.
Nadja and Sundari were alone for the first time in centuries.
For a long stretch of time, it was silent as the two women regarded one another. Nadja looked painfully neutral, but within, her heart raged on a storm-tossed sea of various emotions. Sundari looked on the verge of being sullen, stonefaced and aggravated, as if Nadja had come with a collar and leash in hand. Not that it was entirely untrue, Nadja thought guiltily.
Together, there was no mistaking that Sundari was Nadja's daughter. Sundari towered over her mother, but there were echoes of Nadja's frightening symmetry in her own face, overlain with the cursed tattoos of her father, marking her as his for all to see. Nadja had taken her from Japan to spare her the fate of what those tattoos meant once upon a time.
"What would you have done?" Sundari's voice broke the silence. Nadja's brow knit in silent curiosity, her gaze pensive.
"What would you have done had the sorcerers killed me while I was still sealed?"
The question hung in the air between them, filling up all the negative space around them, making it hard for Nadja to focus. She could not begin to understand what this unknown variable was, but this much she could manage for now.
"They would have never found you," Nadja replied. "It is my understanding that Gojo himself did not become aware of you until your seals broke." She tried not to sound bitter for the lack of someone to whom she could guide all blame. Sundari's lip curled and Nadja saw so much of Sukuna in her expression—even the tattoos were the same—her four eyes brimming with banked fury.
"You left me defenseless!" Sundari hissed. "No memory! No power! Just this big empty nothingness where a whole life should have been! Traipsing and partying around Tokyo like some empty-headed mortal!"
Nadja crossed her arms and canted her head.
"From my understanding you quite enjoy the traipsing and partying. Who do you think funds that "nothing" of a life, Sundari? I do, as I always have and always will. I made sure you lacked for nothing and not once did you question where the money came from, no?"
Sundari had the decency to look somewhat shamed. She had questioned where the money came from, but assumed it had been a trust fund left behind by a relative. Nadja had been sure to keep distance between them to prevent immediate associations being made. Sundari had lived a quiet life in Tokyo—relatively quiet, considering her professional work.
"Bickering serves us naught," Nadja said, waving her hand dismissively. "What matters is finding out why your seals were bound to break when your father incarnated."
Sundari's brow furrowed.
"Oh, I already know." She said. "Some shady group wants me to join them in freeing my dad. Think they might be curse users, and a couple of cursed spirits according to Satoru."
Nadja chewed her lower lip in thought. What curse user would be so knowledgeable as to go looking for Sundari specifically? How would they even know who she was? The records on Sukuna were scarce as is, but none of them mentioned him ever having been married nor did he sire any descendants.
Nadja had been so careful to keep Sundari away from Japan. The jujutsu world inevitably drew them both back. And Sundari's existence was a divine mandate in and of itself. Nadja could not willingly conceive without intervention from the one who held her Heavenly Restriction in trust. Sundari's existence had divine purpose, and Nadja feared she knew what it may have been.
"Mother?" Sundari's face melted into concern briefly, brow furrowing. "What is it?"
Nadja gasped softly. Realizations of this sort never got easier to absorb, but absorb it she did, like a blow to the chest.
"It's nothing," Nadja said. "I'm sorry for sealing you, Sundari. And I'm sorry for leaving."
Sundari hesitated, Nadja's unexpected contrition stilling whatever sharp retort she had ready for her mother's excuses. However, no excuses came and Sundari visibly relaxed.
"I'm sorry too," she said. "I know you're just trying to look out for me. But Satoru says I'm strong enough. We've just been careful because we don't know how Sukuna will react when he sees me."
Nadja's mouth thinned into a grim line.
"I know how he'll react," she said with a terse laugh. "He will kill us both. Do not expect the inevitable reunion to be a happy one, Sundari."
Sundari laughed. "Please, I know what he was and what he has become. I've already agreed to help Satoru in getting all of his Fingers and exorcising him."
Nadja breathed a sigh of relief she didn't know she had been holding in.
"And let me just say how glad I am that she agreed to help!" Gojo came striding back into the room, startling both women as he draped an arm around Sundari's shoulders.
"It would have been bad news having to fight her and Sukuna," Gojo said. "Talk about a workout!"
Sundari elbowed Gojo in the ribs, making him laugh, and Nadja noted that tender bend of her smile as she glanced at him sidelong. Ah, Sundari didn't realize it yet, but she was hopelessly in love with that blindfolded fool.
"So," Gojo continued, "now that you ladies have smoothed things over, how about explaining to me…well, everything you can, really. This is still mind-boggling, even for me. Nadja what are you?"
Sundari's mouth opened then shut with an audible click.
Nadja pursed her lips and shot Gojo a disapproving glare.
"I can only tell you that I was crafted for one purpose." She said firmly. "Gojo we've been through this already."
Gojo sighed. "I know, I know. But why is it such a secret? And why does it force us into a binding vow whenever we come into contact with you?"
Nadja sighed. "Because of the nature of my purpose, the utmost discretion has been built into my body and soul's composition. That much I am permitted to say."
Gojo nodded, but she knew he had plenty more questions. She did not know if she would ever be able to answer them adequately, and by the time she fulfilled her purpose—and she wagered that time was quickly approaching—none of her answers would matter.
As long as Sundari survived all of this, it would be fine.
"I see," Gojo said at last. "Well, I've got some good news and some not stellar news."
Both women looked at him expectantly.
"So good news: Sukuna can be suppressed by his vessel. Come on, don't look so dour! It's fine! But, the not-so-stellar news is that Sukuna got loose and killed his vessel…and then brought him back. Now, my guess is that some sort of pact was made—Sukuna doesn't strike me as the generous type—but what's important is whoever tried to sabotage my plans thinks the vessel is dead. So I'm stashing him at a safehouse not far from Jujutsu Tech."
Nadja crossed her arms. "I hope you don't plan on introducing him to Sundari," she said, a warning bristle in her tone. Gojo held up his hands in a gesture to placate her burgeoning annoyance.
"No, no, never that," he said. "As it stands, though, at his current level, Sundari could handle him pretty easily. But I don't know if finding out he has a daughter a thousand years after his death would be a catalyst for an unexpected reaction. I am keeping Yuji hidden until he's strong enough to hold his own at the school. Shouldn't be too long."
Nadja snorted. "So what do you want Sundari and I to do in the meantime?"
Gojo flung his hands in the air. "Whatever you like! As it stands, things have been quiet since I dealt with a couple of special grades a few nights ago. But I'm sure you and Sundari have tons of catching up to do. I've got to go and do my job."
He leaned in, kissing Sundari's cheek with open affection. Nadja still could not quite believe that part.
Sundari smirked.
"You didn't eat all the kikufuku, did you?" She asked and Satoru grinned. Sundari made her way to the kitchen, digging into the artisan bag and smirking when she eyed the pastry.
"Nadja," Gojo said, "can we speak?" He gestured to the patio, and Nadja followed him. Once outside, the warmth of Tokyo felt good compared to the blistering cold of the air conditioned penthouse.
"You know we can't hide her from him forever," Gojo said without preamble. Nadja hissed in disapproval.
"If he learns she exists he will try to kill her, Satoru," she said. "I cannot allow that."
Gojo turned his blindfolded gaze to Nadja. "I can't either."
That took her aback, the fierce conviction in his tone, and she nodded. At least they agreed that protecting Sundari from her father was a priority. There was no telling what designs he would have if he learned he had a descendant, and one who had inherited her mother's immortality no less.
"How did you two meet?" Nadja asked quietly. "Certainly not the night she was unsealed."
Gojo smiled softly.
"Well," he said, "I was out at a party one night, and I saw her on the dance floor, and I thought she was the most captivating woman I'd ever laid eyes on."
Nadja wrinkled her nose. It was very strange to hear him speaking of her daughter in this way, but she could not help but feel a sense of pride for Sundari. Even sealed she smoldered.
"It was only one night," Gojo said. "But she made an impression, and I guess I did too. We didn't meet again until her seals broke and I went to get her before other interested parties got wind of her existence."
Nadja nodded. If she trusted anyone to protect Sundari, it would be Gojo Satoru. At the very least she knew he would at least attempt to do the right thing.
So why was she so irritated with him?
"Of all the people in Tokyo…in all of Japan…in all of the world…" She was saying. Gojo laughed.
"I know," he said. "We both laughed at it when it dawned on us. Of all the people why did it have to be us? But Nadja, I want you to know that in the short amount of time I've come to know her, I won't let any harm come to her."
Nadja smiled. Seemed like Satoru himself was also foolishly in love with her wild daughter.
Mount Shirouma, Hida Province, Japan, 324 AD
It was too much to hope that she was wrong.
Sukuna returned that very same evening, smelling of sweat, blood, and war. Whatever skirmish he'd been involved in had not landed so much as a scratch on him, but had invigorated him enough that he was in a good mood upon his return. As instructed, Uraume had dinner prepared for the lord and his guest-turned-paramour, and Nadja was arrayed in the fine silks Sukuna had had made to enhance her beauty. He often praised her looks in private, saying the frightening symmetry of her delicate feature reminded him of a panther. He'd had her kimono fashioned to reflect this, a stark white kimono decorated with a large stalking panther along its length.
Nadja entered his dining chamber as silent as the grave, her face schooled to contented calm. Sukuna smiled to see her attired in his own native dress, her black curls caught up in an array of beautiful jeweled hairpins. Even the stray curl that swept along the side of her beautiful face was part of the art of her looks.
"Where will you go," Sukuna said, making her look up at him in hushed expectancy. "When you leave this country, what duty calls you so strongly?"
Nadja smiled as they ate, but inside her heart broke. Here was a man who had only the stoic Uraume as his closest companion and confidante, and here she was feeding him scraps of love she knew she could not sustain. She wasn't supposed to love him. That was not the objective.
"There is something I must take care of across the sea," she said cryptically. "But if all goes well, I should be able to return before the next winter."
"Marry me before you go," Sukuna said promptly. Nadja's brows shot up, her chopsticks paused just before her next bite.
"What?" She whispered. She had been expecting this but still she hadn't thought he'd go through with it. Sukuna did not look like he wanted to argue.
"A simple arrangement," he said matter-of-factly. "We wed, so that no matter where you go or for how long, you will always be mine."
Nadja blinked at him.
"That's a foolish notion, Sukuna," Nadja said. "You cannot own a person anymore than a person can own you."
Sukuna snorted. "As you say. I do not want anyone else to have you."
Nadja scoffed. "What would change? I would still need to leave Japan to fulfill my duties abroad. Do you think being wed will compel me to return faster?"
Sukuna stared at her. "Would it?"
Nadja laughed helplessly.
"I don't know, Sukuna, do you even need a wife?"
Sukuna laughed. "No. But I can think of no other way to have you for my own without forcing you. I'd rather you be mine willingly."
Nadja sighed and set her bowl down. For a moment there was a terse silence before she spoke.
"What do you mean by that?" She asked him and Sukuna frowned. She frowned back. "What do you mean when you say you want me to be yours?"
It was Sukuna's turn to think. He gazed at her a long while, drinking her in. So slight a woman, so vicious and tenacious a fighter, with enough secrets that he wanted to spend the rest of their lives unearthing them. She was compelling and fascinating in a way few were, and she was strong, so very strong. Her lack of cursed energy, her inability to generate it, her ability to resist it, and those damnable blades of hers…everything about her enamored him.
Why wouldn't he keep her for himself?
"You will go wherever it is your divine mandate takes you," Sukuna said, "outliving all who come to know you. But you will leave your heart with me so that you know this is where you belong."
Nadja hated it. He spoke with conviction, as if it were a simple truth that she belonged to him. And she pitied him because he was right just not in the way he interpreted it. If she agreed to this arrangement it would mean nothing, and it may even grant her more leeway within this country's borders, but how long would it last? Sukuna was not immortal either, powerful as he was.
Unless…
"If I agree to this marriage," Nadja said, "would it mean you belong to me as well?"
Sukuna laughed but there was nothing self-deprecating about it despite his next words.
"Nadja, look around: who else on this wretched earth would want me?"
In all her years Nadja had never heard anything so utterly bleak, and yet Sukuna seemed unbothered by it. Unbothered by the curse of his existence, the solitude his power carved out around him, and now here she was contemplating stealing off in the night like a filthy rat, taking his only descendant with her. As terrifying and evil as Sukuna was, in that moment, she felt like she was worse. At least one of them was being honest.
And she did love him. That much she knew.
"Alright," Nadja said, rending her heart to pieces with a lie. "I'll wed you ere I depart this place. Will you be trying to get heirs on me or can I at least be allowed to do my work for another few years before you start siring a legacy?"
Sukuna chuckled. "In due time, wife." He already liked the sound of it.
Later that evening, when the meal was cleared away, Sukuna and Nadja made love.
Sukuna was rough in his attentions almost all the time, preferring to evoke pain and pleasure as one most nights, but there was something different about tonight. As Nadja writhed and moaned and bent beneath him, there was something fearsome and possessive in his eyes, and he rode her until she pleaded for release, kissing her hungrily, drinking down her pleas greedily. He breathed her name into the crook of her neck, sucked dark, purple bruises and bites into her skin, filling and stretching her until her breath came out stuttering and gasping. Her nails carved into his arms and shoulders, and he pressed close, rubbing his nose against hers. She smiled, tears in her eyes, and Sukuna licked the ones that escaped like droplets of starlight on the tip of his tongue.
And all the while Nadja saw the thing that Sukuna himself did not recognize shining in all four of his eyes: love.
Gods above it was shouting from every part of him, from the way he touched her tenderly, all four hands caressing every inch of her, to the way he handled her when they lay in languorous, drowsy contentment afterward. He stroked her hair, which she had unpinned, letting the curls fall loose over her shoulders. Sukuna marveled to see the vicious warrior so soft and unarmed, pliant in his embrace.
Sukuna loved her, and she was planning on leaving him.
"Ryōmen," she murmured and heard his answering hum beneath her cheek as she lay on his chest. "How are we going to do this?"
One of his hands squeezed her hip reassuringly.
"I have plans for that, little assassin," he murmured, another hand grasping hers to bring it to his lips, kissing her fingers and knuckles. "Do not trouble yourself over those details. And don't tell me I'm the first to try to have you. You are immortal, certainly there were others."
Nadja looked up at him, smirking.
"Of course there were others, but none of them were anything close to you."
Sukuna chuckled, a deep sound that reminded Nadja of the bottom of a deep well.
"You certainly flatter like a wife," he said. "You'll make a fine queen, I think."
Nadja laughed. "I don't want to be a queen," she said. Sukuna eyed her.
"Then what will you be by my side? Whatever it is, you will be that."
"I will be me."
They shared a smile and Sukuna laughed, shaking his head before he resumed kissing her fingers, marveling at the delicate blade-ready hand that had worshipped his body as often as it had killed others. Nadja let him, laying her head back on his chest. There was still time before she began to show. So long as she left between now and when he belly began to protrude she should be alright. She had no reason to suspect Sukuna would be the fatherly type, and she would much rather not witness him committing infanticide on their only child fresh from the womb. She'd seen him do such things to others, but she could not be sure if his bloodlust would be stymied for his own flesh and blood. Loving her was one thing, but loving a child of their flesh was another.
No, she had to leave, it was the only way.
It was the night before they were to wed that Nadja made her departure. It had been frighteningly easy. She had begged use of a horse to take a night ride and clear her head. Nadja packed what provisions she dared, secured her arsenal, and rode into the night. She did not return for another century, and by that time Sukuna's infamy had passed into legend, and she learned what had happened to him.
She learned, and began her preparations. It would not be the last time she saw Sukuna, but it was the last time she knew they would be on good terms.
Present Day, Tokyo, August 2018
Nadja continued to train with Maki and the other second years, and even begun the rudiments of combat training with Kugisaki. Gojo had gotten Nadja a temporary pass as an instructor at Jujutsu Tech, affording her all of the access she needed to see if there was a way to truly win against Sukuna. She knew Satoru was exceedingly confident in his abilities, as well he should have been, but Nadja knew Sukuna, had seen firsthand the devastation he was capable of.
And if he became so fearsome and heartless because of her betrayal, who was to say?
Nadja had planned for centuries for his inevitable return when she learned the sorcerers responsible had failed to destroy his body, instead splitting his soul into his fingers. And now Satoru was feeding those fingers to a vessel, a young boy no older than her daughter had been when she first earned the title of Godslayer.
Thinking of Sundari made her chest hurt. She feared for her daughter, she could not help it. As powerful as she was, as much ferocity and tenacity she held within her soul, Nadja knew that in the end it would take more to bring down a creature like Sukuna. He was not just any cursed spirit.
He was a thing that happened to you.
"Hikmat-sensei?"
Nadja looked up from her pensive reverie to see Maki in the doorway. Nadja had been given a spare office to use during her time at the school. She did not explicitly keep an open-door policy, but the students had warmed to her over the weeks, and tentatively sought her counsel. Maki especially was curious as Nadja was not a sorcerer at all, being something else entirely. Nadja nodded for the girl to enter, and she shut the door behind her.
"How can I help you today, Maki?" She asked, sitting back in her chair. She was clad in her usual all black suedes and padded leather, an almost modern take on fitted armor, and not a glimmer of steel to betray that Nadja was literally armed to the teeth.
Thus, Maki's presence.
"I want to know how you do it," Maki said without mincing words. "The weapons. They're cursed tools and yet no one can sense them until you've drawn them. How? Do you have an inventory spirit?"
Nadja smiled. Toji had been the one to use an inventory spirit to hide his massive and versatile arsenal. Nadja mourned the loss of the Inverted Spear, which would have been nice to have, but she was sure Gojo had sealed it or disposed of it somewhere.
"I do not," Nadja said gently and at Maki's slight narrowing of her eyes, she laughed. "My combat training was not gentle, and the purpose I was designed for was highly specific. I had to adapt in order to do my job efficiently."
"Killing sorcerers," Maki said. Nadja hesitated.
"Not always, no," Nadja said. "There are other things in this world that require my skills. Toji's vendetta against the jujutsu world is not shared by me, Maki."
She bristled at the obvious comparison, but said nothing.
"I lack cursed energy and the ability to generate or wield any kind of magic," Nadja said. "Not just cursed energy. Like you, I require tools to combat my opponents effectively. But I don't have the skills necessary to train a spirit to serve me. Nor do I want that hassle."
She recalled Toji spitting up the curse to access it. She didn't have time for such theatrics.
"The sheaths for all of my blades are seals." She said.
Maki's eyes widened. Nadja smiled slyly, and placed her index finger to her lips, indicating discretion. Maki nodded.
"So the sheaths seal the cursed energy until the blades are released, which doesn't give your opponents enough time to react to it," Maki said breathlessly. "That's brilliant," she murmured to herself. Nadja felt a little proud. While she could not tell the girl everything, she could impart some of her own personal "hacks" for carrying cursed tools.
Maki seemed hesitant, as if she wanted to ask more and Nadja gestured for her to continue.
"Gojo-sensei mentioned that you're ancient, but you don't look that old to me."
Nadja smiled. "Thank you. I am an immortal of sorts. But I don't think that's what you want to know about."
Maki shook her head, color blooming in her cheeks.
"Why do we exist?" She asked, and when she realized the question was too loaded, she adjusted. "I mean, people like us…with little to no cursed energy. What's the reason? What's the point?"
Nadja held Maki's gaze, and there was sympathy in it. Likely her clan—and the entire jujutsu world, honestly—had placed no value on people like them who could not so much as see nor interact with cursed energy or spirits. It was the hubris and arrogance of sorcerers that facilitated the need for people like them: people who were given divine powers in exchange for something else.
Nadja had been stripped of all of her cursed energy and gifted with immortality and eternal youth, an indestructible body careening through the ocean of time until she inevitably fulfilled her function. She knew her mandate, had it written into the cracks of her bones.
For Maki, she had no such knowledge.
"I don't know," she answered honestly. "But know that when you reach the peak of your power and skill, your purpose will make itself clear."
Maki nodded. "Thank you, Hikmat-sensei."
Nadja smiled, watched the girl leave, and sighed. She just hoped Satoru and Sundari's end of the investigations and training were going well. The Goodwill Event was a month away, and Nadja hoped that they could kill Sukuna before Christmas.
A/N: See the fic If to witness the initial encounter between Satoru and Sundari.