(a/n) this is a bit of slow burn story hehe, we'll be getting straight into plot and meeting characters soon i promise!
Himari had listed five steps to save the world.
1. Get the attention of Tokyo Jujutsu High.
Himari needed to enroll in Tokyo Jujutsu High. The highschool itself was an exclusive club— a farming ground for talented sorcerers sent out as cannon fodder for the higher ups. The school seemed to be the center of Shibuya's destruction, and Himari would need to follow.
Underneath this item, she had scribbled out the world: "eat a finger?"
2. Save Riko Amanai.
In the jujutsu community, news of the star plasma vessel's death spread like wildfire for two reasons: Tengen's merger was delayed, and a fracturing between the two strongest sorcerers developed into one singular crown. Gojo Satoru developed purple.
3. Stop Geto's betrayal.
She never knew exactly how or why Geto turned his back on the world. She had heard whispers regarding the sorcerer, but they varied from the loss of his title to possession from a cursed spirit he consumed. There was never one concrete answer.
4. The disaster curses.
The disaster curses were born from fear and massive loss of lives. Every sorcerer in the community was informed of the special grade curses after an incident at the goodwill event, where a disaster curse had crawled into the premises and sparked havoc. Special grade curses were rare, and the disaster curses seemed to be intelligent, capable of human speech, and hiding below the peripheral of the higher ups.
It was simple— Himari noted. They needed to be hunted down.
5. Yuji Itadori.
Himari considered this to be the most unknown factor in her plan. Yuji Itadori, Sukuna's vessel, was likely five or six now. Impulsivity was not an option, she could not afford to kill a five year old— that was often frowned upon. Yuji Itadori must be continuouslessly monitored.
There were a few things that Himari had underestimated.
She had never expected how much of her cursed energy reserves had been exchanged in the binding vow— she had trouble managing her cursed technique before, but now she could likely only use it minimally each fight.
Alongside her pitiful cursed energy reserves— Himari technically did not exist. There were zero records of her as an individual in Japan, and following her transportation to the past, any of her identification cards were void.
In essence, Himari was nobody.
This made it painfully difficult to survive. For about a month so far, Himari lived as Miko Tanaka, a 21 year old university student whose ID she had stolen from the floor of a bar. Admittedly, she was wracked with guilt while using poor Tanaka's identity, but it was only temporary.
Himari worked as a grocery attendant, and a part-time server at a local cafe, whilst staying in a hostel. It was draining, and she had begun to dread the sun peeking through the hostel windows as it signaled the start of her daily routine.
Today was different.
As the sun welcomed the new day, Himari stretched her arms above her head, grasping her right elbow with her left hand. A smile tugged on her lips and excitement crackled through her body. The month that she had spent working had funded a small trip to Otaru, her hometown in Hokkaido. Part of the trip was fueled by her desire to envelope herself in something familiar, and another component was her desperation to meet her parents, to make sure they were doing well.
It was a bit selfish, Himari knew that, but she wanted to be selfish one more time.
Stepping out of the train, Himari welcomed the fresh air into her lungs with a bounce to her stride. It was comfortable; the warm and balmy wind sweeping by her, and the post-rain humidity left hanging in the air. Still puddles pooled on the stone lined floors, and Himari passed by dripping rooves that sang softly as the weary droplets collided with metal and flooring.
Himari loved the town, she loved the port city, and the harbour, and the canal. She loved how timeless the city remained. Hours crept by slowly here, warded off by the smiles and warmth of the civilians.
"One Taiyaki please!" She called out at a local food stand, and the worker took her coins and began pouring the pre-prepared batter into a fish shaped mold. Himari scarfed down the red bean fish treat, feeling too ecstatic to care about her tongue burning against the hot filling.
As she skipped by the houses, stores, and food stalls, Himari had her eyes set on a specific location: her childhood house down by the canal.
She had done the math, at this point, and on this day, her parents were supposed to have been raising a little Himari Suzuki in a quaint, pale brown building. Walking along the paths filled her with overwhelming nostalgia, to the point where tears were beginning to form. There was no question that her life would never be the same— there was no point pondering that. Up until now, she had managed to fend off the loneliness welling inside her with a promise to herself that maybe— maybe she could have some form of a relationship with her family. It didn't have to be one of parental love or guidance, they were probably too close in age at this point. But Himari hoped, she desperately maintained the hope that she would be able to keep the her parents safe this time.
Her heart was pounding as she approached the familiar streets, and her gaze explored her surroundings hungrily.
There was the tall brick house with a crooked fence she recognized, one that belonged to her grumpy neighbours that had to deal with Himari's consistent failures to throw a baseball anywhere but into their yard. She chuckled at the memory, and softened her gaze as she slowed her pace. She wanted to take it all in— this moment of familiarity.
The feeling bubbled in her chest and was brimming with the sensation of intense recollection. It was akin to deja vu or nostalgia, contorted with a sense of uncertainty. There was something daunting and exciting about this experience, like she had walked into a diary and was staring down a younger clone of the author.
Turning the corner, Himari felt her chest squeeze and her heart began to palpitate as if it were trying to crawl out of her chest. A pit formed in her stomach, and she couldn't identify whether the anticipation was fear or excitement.
The house looked newer. Fewer plants crawled out from the perimeter of its foundation, and the brown was a brighter shade. The steps leading up to the front door were less cracked and worn down, and Himari took her time approaching the large brown door.
She rapped her knuckles against the door eagerly, and waited for a response.
A moment passed, and then another. Himari held her breath the entire time.
The door swung open, and her heart stopped. When she looked down at the person who answered, their jaw was square with freckles adorning their face.
Himari did not have freckles.
She didn't have the tussled blonde hair that the child standing in front of her did. Himari's hair had always been a sandy brown. The child had pale blue eyes, Himari had rich, brown eyes. The square jaw line didn't fit either, though it was the closest feature to Himari's angular face.
This was not little Himari.
A voice called from within the house.
It was not her parents.
"Melissa! We told you not to open the door to strangers!"
It was a foreign voice, slightly deeper and rougher than her own father's voice. She wondered how long had it been since she heard his voice— how long it would be before she forgot his voice.
"What do you want?" A man approached the door, and a lump lodged itself in her throat as she tried to speak.
"Speak up," The man demanded, his demeanour exactly opposite to her own father's. It was harsh, and impatient.
Himari's father had always been a kind man. He would bring home fish from his days out on the sea, and he would come home and chase her around with his hands wiggling in the air, threatening to turn her into a sea creature if he caught her. There was a time she remembered fondly, where on her 10th birthday by the docks, she had dared her father to kiss a fish. Right there, he grabbed one from his fishing pail and landed a kiss on the fish's mouth— much to the horror of her mother. It would be two week before Himari's mother kissed him again.
And he had told her it was worth it to see Himari smile.
"Do you know a Kenzo Suzuki who used to live here? Or Mari Suzuki?"
The man brought his hand to his chin and scratched at his beard, tilting his head in thought. Melissa had slunk away, and Himari could hear the child's mother reprimanding her.
"Oh yeah! The Suzuki's!" The man exclaimed in recognition. "They're dead."
Her cursed energy spiked.
Her fists curled into balls.
And Himari felt the world shrink.
The world around her melted, the floor beneath her opened up, and a visceral sense of dread sunk into her bones.
"Can I ask how they passed?" Her voice wavered, but she told herself that she wasn't going to cry, not until the door closed.
"Not sure, uh, we bought this place from some realtor a few years back. Heard some neighbours say the wife died from a sudden sickness, and the husband died from a broken heart. Nobody really knows." The man's voice softened slightly, and the edge gave way to some semblance of sympathy. "They're buried in the central cemetery, if you wanna visit." His suggestion was kind, but Himari felt his words slip past her.
"Thank you," She mumbled, and the man nodded. He glanced at her once more, and then closed the door.
She took a few strides before Himari could no longer feel the floor beneath her feet. Sinking to the stone floor, she leaned her back against her old neighbour's crooked fence and caught her head in her hands. Her breathing grew shallow as wails wracked her body, tears beginning to form. Everything felt like static.
A binding vow. To gain something, another must be lost in the process. The world was confined by these laws.
To gain a second chance for the world, Himari had lost the foundation of her previous reality.
She slammed her fist against the stone flooring beneath her, feeling the impact against her knuckles shoot through her arm. Her nails dug into her palms, and she rammed her fist into the floor again.
And again.
And again.
"Take it back," She begged. There was no one who would hear her— there was no one who would answer her. "Take it back, please."
The jujutsu world seemed so far away.
The rest of her trip to Otaru was filled with dread. She knew the graveyard would be a beacon for cursed spirits, but she couldn't bring herself to visit.
If she saw her parents' graves, then that would mean it was real, and they were gone.
It felt like a sick joke.
Himari knew what loneliness felt like, she had been consumed by the feeling many times before. This was the first time she had ever felt alone. There was an ocean of difference between the two.
It had taken her a few days to muster up the energy to return to Tokyo, and even longer to return to work from her weekend trip. She had inadvertently gotten fired from her grocery clerk job— it was not a good look to disappear for five days straight— but she managed to hold onto her part time position.
The days blurred together, and the burning desire to change the world was fickle. It was hard not to be indifferent when days were composed of serving customers, and the harbour city no longer welcomed her home with steamed fish and miso soup.
It had taken her another two months before she dug out the newspaper from her small duffel bag. It was the one Himari had initially claimed after her first paycheque, where she had circled a missing persons picture alongside a messy scribbled list of steps to save the world.
She had tucked it away after discovering the consequences of her binding vow, but the grief that previously tamed her now stoked the flames within her.
Himari felt like a murderer.
She had stolen her parent's future.
She had taken the years of love and marriage and struggle and being human— and she had stolen all of it. There was some comfort in knowing that they had already lived that life once, that they had shared their last seventeen years together and with Himari.
Her mother had dreamed of opening a chain of resturants in Tokyo. Her father had dreamed of being a stay-at-home husband, and to be able to proudly point to his wife and exclaim, "I'm her husband!" They were distant dreams that would never be fulfilled.
Himari couldn't forgive herself.
She had to put her plan to motion.
Standing at the border of an abandoned hospital, Himari clenched her jaw. The hospital was located near the the edge of Tokyo, having gone bankrupt and abandoned. In about ten years, construction would have flawlessly converted the building into a shopping district, but for now, the hospital space was flooded with cursed spirits.
Pushing past the bushes and stepping on weeds that sprouted from the cracked, dry ground, Himari was shocked anything managed to squeeze an ounce of life out of the nutrient deficient floor. Brushing the leaves away that crowded the door, she stepped into the deteriorating building.
Footsteps clacking against the tiles, she noted the dusty floor had accumulated dry, cracked leaves and broken branches. Walls were decorated with grafiti, large tags of bright splashes of colour being the only change of pace in the sterile, worn down buildings.
Cursed energy slathered the walls of the building. It was pungent, and the grief and sadness was palpable.
Himari tensed her muscles, balling her hands into tight fists as she drew her shoulders closer to her body. It was a defensive stance— a stance that facilitated quick reaction to any hostility.
Turning the corner in the hospital to face a long, winding corridor, at the end of the hallway hung a flickering light, and a pulsating source of cursed energy. She furrowed her brows.
There was noticeable dust that scattered as she slunk closer to the room, and she ignored the small sources of cursed energy that could only be attributed to flyheads, or other small, feeble curses.
The light flickered in tune with her footsteps, drawing her in like an angler fish. Heavy levels of cursed energy seeped into the hallway from the room, and she approached cautiously, peeking through the doorway and into the small room.
It appeared to be a nursery. Rows of tiny beds lined with cotton sheets were dispersed through the room, though most of the sheets were torn to bits with mysterious substances soaked into the fabric.
In the center of the room, under the blinking light, a slim green figure sat on the floor with large, bulky arms clutching its head. Each section of its spine protruded from its back, and it swung from side to side in a metronomic motion. As soon as Himari peered into the room, a high-pitched shriek emanated from the spirit, reverberating from within its vocal track. The spirit began to shake violently and turned its head to stare at Himari, several rows of eyes were embedded in its face.
And then it lunged at her.
And she dodged backwards.
The spirit screeched, opening its jaws to snap at her as Himari continuously dodged its swipes by ducking or leaping over the clumsy swings.
She accessed the situation— she was currently able to avoid each of the spirit's attacks, but she could tell that one collision from its cursed energy would do immense damage to her body. Himari also knew that the cursed spirit was relatively low grade, but it was definitely a high enough grade to catch the attention of jujutsu sorcerers.
Her current stores of cursed energy would facilitate her technique only a few seconds into the future each instance of its use, and she wasn't sure how many uses she would be able to pull off. Exorcism needed to happen in one swift motion.
The curse was frustrated, it reared in anger and began to launch itself through the hallway. The previously worn down hall began to fall into disarray as each failed swipe from the spirit left deep indents and claw marks in the wall.
Sprinting down the corridor and planting her foot into the floor to launch herself around the corner, she passed through the entrance to the reception room. It was a closed off space, with broken down elevators made of metal that had long since lost its shine. Himari twisted her body to face the incoming spirit, and she reach up to grasp the top ledge of the doorframe. Hanging in the air and pulling her knees close to her chest, she swung herself backwards and funneled cursed energy to her legs as the spirit drew closer.
The spirit thrust itself towards her, and Himari shot her legs forwards and propelled herself into the cursed spirit's chest. The spirit's knees buckled beneath it and it fell backwards.
She smirked.
"My cursed technique allows me to see a future image of myself constantly, how far ahead depends on my cursed energy output— it relies on continuous cursed energy, and when I choose to, I can select that future image to be my current reality."
As the curse stumbled onto its feet, Himari dropped onto the floor into a crouched position.
She wasn't used to her new cursed energy reserves, and she had burnt through her stores far quicker than she expected to maintain her future image.
"Time weave," She shouted, and felt the world spin around her.
Himari was repositioned exactly where she would've been five seconds into the future: right behind and above the head of the cursed spirit. She landed onto its back as the green creature began to scream and claw at its rear end.
Gripping the cursed spirit's head with her right hand to maintain her position as it flung itself wildly, she dug her feet into its back and planted her heels. Himari drew her left hand back, and funneled the remainder of her cursed energy into her fist, and then drove it through the back of its skull.
The cursed spirit let out a whine and a gurgle as her fist dug through its flesh, and it disintegrated into small fragments underneath her.
The curse was exorcised, and the flesh and body underneath her gave way.
Landing on the floor with a thud, the blood came rushing back to her head.
Breathing out, she grasped her head in her palm, lightheaded. It was scary how little cursed energy she was able to control, and she felt an uncertain twinge at her capabilities.
To maintain time weave, she constantly had to fuel her eyesight with a varied amount of cursed energy, and then let out a burst of her energy when she wanted to select a future to jump to. It was tiring— exhausting— but she hadn't expected it to reduce her thoughts to static and brain to fuzz.
Turning her crouch into a sitting position, she sat down to catch her breath, wiping the sweat from her brow.
It was silent, and she frowned, biting her bottom lip.
Had it failed? Was she not able to capture the attention of Tokyo High? She had already failed thrice before at various other locations— and this cursed spirit was a higher grade relative to the previous ones.
A whistle came from around the corner, and she whiped her head in the direction of the noise.
"Enjoy the show?" She asked, furrowing her brow. Himari couldn't recognize the voice, and she was uncertain if it was another sorcerer who was fluent in disguishing cursed energy, or if it was a regular individual.
"It was good," The voice quipped, "If you're satisfied with being mediocre."
A man turned the corner, and then leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. His piercing blue eyes were droning into her, his mouth was upturned into an arrogant smile, and she felt lost in a trance.
His eyes reminded her of the ocean.