THE WEAKNESS - CHAPTER 1
Sukuna's four crimson eyes glared down at Megumi Fushiguro's pathetic excuse of a soul.
"Do you really think you can face the world again?" Sukuna spat.
Megumi looked down. He looked guilty, a disgusting emotion that the boy should have rid of by now. But if Sukuna could use it to his advantage, he wouldn't complain.
"I stole your body, and you allowed your sister to die," Sukuna said flatly, "Not to mention, the one brat you did save ended up killing thousands of humans,"
Sukuna began to move in for the kill. The darkness of his soul edged toward Megumi's—eyes appearing from the miasmic cloud. Megumi closed his eyes with a pitiful expression.
"Just give up," Sukuna said, "You'll never live a normal life, boy."
This was it.
I win.
But then, Megumi sighed with a short smile. Sukuna's soul halted its progress.
What the hell?
The boy finally spoke, dark eyes boring into his. "Why are you so desperate, Sukuna?"
Tch.
"You still have a finger out there, don't you?" He continued, "But that's not enough to hold your entire soul is it?"
Sukuna tried his best to not display any reaction. He furrowed his brow.
I thought he had given up! This boy lost his will to fight long ago, what changed!?
Megumi's smile grew—almost crazed—baring his teeth and eyes widened in sadistic pleasure as the darkness of Sukuna's soul began to be pushed back by his determination.
Sukuna's eyes widened.
"I never intended to live a normal life!" Megumi shouted, "For once! I think I'll live for someone other than myself!"
Sukuna felt himself shrink away. He was powerless against the determination of this boy's soul.
BOOM.
Sukuna was suddenly flung back, the barrier of this innate domain had shattered.
Yuji Itadori slammed his fist against Meguna's chest. The building they were atop of rumbled from the impact.
Sukuna slipped out of Megumi's body, his soul taking the form of a pathetic blob of skin, flesh, and eyes, "AHHHHHH," He screamed as he tried to reach out to grab ahold of the boy's body once more.
SPLAT.
He smacked into the concrete with a wet squelch—mere feet away from his former puppet. He glanced behind him, breathing hard. He hadn't felt this powerless even against Satoru Gojo.
The brat stood above him, glaring at him with those infuriating eyes.
"What's it gonna to be, Sukuna?" Yuji said. His right eye was completely bloodied, scars etched across his face and arms.
Neither moved for a long moment, eyes locked with one another.
How dare this brat look at the King of Curses in such a pitiful way.
"Sukuna," Yuji finally said, reaching down to grab a hold of him.
"You are me."
Yuji knelt down as Sukuna's form began to wither away, holding what was left in his hands. "Let's do it Sukuna." He said, "I'm willing to allow you to live on in me. But this time, we can help people… Not curse them,"
Sukuna paused for a moment. His form was now reduced to a single bleeding eye in a mess of sludge.
"You are a fool Yuji Itadori. Do not dare take pity on me! " Sukuna barked, knowing full well these would be his final words.
"FOR I AM TRULY A CURSE!"
And with that, the world blackened. And he accepted his fate.
A burning sensation flooded Sukuna's chest. It itched, the inside of his lungs infuriatingly wet. He felt so disgustingly empty. As if one of his entire senses was stripped from him
COUGH.
His whole body jolted upright as mucus hocked out of his throat. Wait. Body?
Sukuna opened his eyes slowly, his eyes having trouble adjusting to the sudden light. He raised his arm to block out the glow. He blinked hard a couple times, his blurry vision finally clearing.
"Lord Misha!" A woman's voice called from beside him, "You're awake!"
He looked down, ignoring the girl's squealing. The majority of his body was draped in a thick blanket. His torso was bare… and… frail.
Sukuna's eyes widened as he threw off the cover and took in the rest of his body. That simple movement exhausted him. His two arms were thin, like a child who had been starved for weeks on end. So were his legs. The markings, his markings were completely gone.
Sukuna didn't recognize this vessel. Was he inhabiting someone else now? But why had the markings vanished?
How did this happen?
"Are you alright, M'lord?" The woman asked with a disgustingly sympathetic smile—apparently glad he was awake.
Sukuna spun his head to glare into the women's eyes.
"Tell me what happened to me," He growled.
The woman was taken aback by that.
She wore a simple white dress covered down to her ankles—the only thing she wore despite the cold—and her black hair was free-flowing over her shoulders.
"D-do you not remember? You're sick, Lord." She said with concern, resting a hand on his bony shoulder.
Sukuna slapped her hand away with a grunt.
Disgusting.
He pushed himself off the ground to stand, but stumbled into the wood wall near the makeshift mattress he was laying on. He took in his surroundings in confusion, leaning onto the wall for balance.
It was a cramped space, the only furniture the pile of blankets on the pristine floor beneath him and a pair of chairs to the side. A small stone-covered hearth lit the center of the room, a metal teapot resting above the flames. The entire place was made with wood planks, and the door was a poorly insulated origami screen.
His eyes finally rested back on the women. She looked up at him in worry and hurt.
"I will not repeat myself again, woman" Sukuna spat, "Tell me what happened to—"
COUGH.
A fit of coughs took over his speech. He couldn't stop it. He slumped to the floor in pain as his lungs felt as if it were eating itself. Drops of blood splattered from his mouth.
"M'lord!" The woman cried, rushing to his side and helping him back to his bed, "You mustn't exert yourself like that,"
Sukuna didn't stop her this time, allowing himself to take a seat, arm over knee, atop the pile of soft blankets.
"As for what happened to you. If you truly don't remember, then perhaps your condition is worsening." The woman lowered her head in sadness. "You've been sick for some time now, about three months. You have been unable to move from this room for a bit shorter than that."
Sukuna furrowed his brow. His mind began to piece together what may be happening.
"Tell me," His voice came out coarse and uneven, "Who is it you think I am?"
The women stared at him in slight shock, seemingly unsure if the question was rhetorical or not. After a moment of thought, and Sukuna glaring at her like he would strangle her if she didn't answer, she spoke again.
"You're my husband, Lord Misha Horunzu, 7th prince of Heriaal" She said flatly, "And in case you also forgot me, I am your second wife, Lady Tima Horunzu,"
Sukuna grunted disapprovingly with a slight shake of his head, "Misha? What a pitiful name," But then a thought came into his head and he smiled wickedly. Wife, huh?
I wonder how this vessel's soul will react if I…
Without hesitation, Sukuna flicked his wrist upwards.
CLEAVE.
But nothing happened. The woman tilted her head curiously.
"If I may, you are acting rather strange today, M'lord. I hope the sickness is not spreading to your mind,"
But Sukuna didn't hear her words. His stomach dropped. Why didn't Cleave work? He brought his hands to his face and shut his eyes, trying to gather his cursed energy.
There was none.
No.
He turned to the women again, trying to sense the natural cursed energy that normal humans exuded, but it was completely absent. That emptiness that he had felt, that sense he felt was missing. This was it.
His cursed technique was gone.
This is my first fanfic ever, so please let me know what you think about it. I know it's pretty short but if I get good feedback I'll add more chapters. Thank you for reading!
