Chapter Text
Mahito was having a day which was, when all things were considered, quite good even if it still were only morning, though close to midday.
After having spent the night with Hanami and Dagon and discussed some rather trivial manner with them, he’d gone to his own den and finished one of the texts which Geto had given him-really, as comic books had been rather expensive and not truly that common in is past life, and quite a frivolous pursuit, he hadn’t realized it, but the stories could actually be quite deep-
The world itself seemed happy as well: The sun shone, high upon the sky, with all of its boundless might. In truth, he still wondered how a nation at such a high latitude possessed such strength of sun, but perhaps that was due to his own former ignorance. The flowers and the plants bloomed, and grew with strength, and there were certain miniscule creatures-little grains of sand and little pebbles, in terms of soul-going along in a cheery manner.
His gait was quite slow, and quite leisurely. Nonetheless, his attention was called rather briskly, “Mahito-oh, Mahito-it is good to see you. I-we need to talk, Mahito."
The gaze of the cursed spirit turned, to behold the human: It was Junpei who spoke to him, but he seemed even more haggard than usual. And it is not as though he always kept a very dignified appearance. “Junpei! It is good to see you as well, walk with me, it’s quite a cheery day, isn’t it,” he allowed himself to absorb the fragrant aroma in a peaceful manner, and he then said, "what is it?”
He noted, moreover, that Junpei avoided his own gaze-they’d known each other for only ‘some days now, but that struck him as odd. He’d not shown such a shameful habit even after Mahito had nearly torn him apart.
And it also struck Mahito that perhaps speaking so publicly wasn’t so good of an idea, as they could think Junpei mad.
“I don't think I can. I don’t think-I can’t muster the courage,“ he admitted, though in a very low tone of voice, “I am sorry-can we speak at my house? It’s close to here.”
In truth, mahito had not known that, which somewhat annoyed the more new part of him: but he calmed it, it is not as though he’d tried to search for it. He ended up nodding along. The gait of Junpei, he nodded as well, was an anxious one, his heart beat rapidly, and his eyes turned to all places.
“I didn’t know we were such good friends, Junpei,” he indeed said, in a jesterful manner to clear the air, “that you would invite me to your dwelling!”
Junpei showed little reaction to the comment of the curse, nodding along, and looking anxiously-his mind seemed contorted and filled with an immense amount of weight. He wasn’t a human, so he was somewhat troubled by the fact that he felt only a mild degree of fear for him-far more than if he had been an ordinary human, but only so much as he would’ve shown to a dog or a horse he was particularly fond of.
But regardless of all that-it seemed that Junepi was struggling with one kind of things or another, which he thought shameful and wretched.
“Something,” he indeed whispered, “is most definitely off.”
…
Junpei opened the door to his own dwelling, the air coming forth in its great heat. He took off his own shoes at the entrance, Mahito not doing so seeing as his feet were bare, but attempting to take off the muck which had clinged to his spectral appendages.
Junpei was scared-he had not acted in a very intelligent manner. He wasn’t sure what he ought to do-the curse was quite smart. He hoped Mahito knew what to do.
He was attempting to muster some strength, within himself, indeed, when he heard the curses voice, of a good degree of pleasure, “Ah! I recognize this brand, how odd-could I help myself to some of this.” Hended up saying, scratching at the nape of his neck, “now that I think of it, I have not partaken in such things thus far.”
Junpei was somewhat surprised by that-the cursed figure held within his hands some of his mothers cigars, and alcohol. He knew the curse wasn’t truly a human boy, but still-”Are you not too young for such things, Mahito?”
He looked young. Perhaps a year or two younger than Junpei himself, as though he could be his underclassman. His features were quite youthful, and his stature wasn't much different from that of Junpei himself.
“This is hardly the first time I have drunk alcohol. I think the first time was when I was eleven or twelve, or so,” he mused, helping himself to the foreign brand, and lighting the tobacco, with absurd ease, “I was rather grown when I died, even if young-though I suppose I never truly became a man, as such, did I?”
It was a sexual innuendo which Mahito made, but Junpei didn’t fully realize it until much later, and upon recollection. At the time, he sat fearfully, and stayed there while the curse attempted to consume such noxious substances; he took them well enough, but after some moments, his brow furrowed, and he went to the empty glass and threw away the half-smoked cigar.
“It is as I expected. I feel nothing, it tastes of nothing,” he said, sitting in front of Junpei fully, and looking him directly in the eyes, the grey and blue eye of the curse looking at his own, ‘I suppose I am not truly alive anymore. Now-tell me. What happened? You are very anxious today.“
Junpei supposed he couldn’t have avoided speaking on it forever-he was the one who called and invited Mahito. “I killed someone,” he ended up admitting, clutching at his own head quite strongly, and he admitted, “I-I wished to stand up to them, you see, so I went to school today, and-I succeeded! I truly did, but-they died so easily, mahito! I-I didn’t think I’d grieve those-awful creatures, but-”
He ended up bowing his head to the ground, his eyes widened, and beads of perspiration out of the immense stress the whole of his frame felt. “But I don’t think my mother would want her son to be a murderer, and-did they deserve death,” he ended up saying, and shaking his head, admitted at last, “Maybe they did, maybe not, but-I didn’t mean to kill them, you know?”
Junpei himself was rather confused as to what it was he ought to be feeling. Perhaps he shouldn’t have expected it, seeing as Mahito was a murderer himself and not even a human, but he still instinctively thought the latter would furiously reprimand him. An odd gaze was upon mahito’s face, and he simply held his own chin, “I see.”
There was an expression of seriousness upon the face of Mahito, and one of detachment-as though, while the curse understood the gravity of the situation, he didn’t fully comprehend it on an emotional level. He clasped his hands together.
“I did tell you to be careful with your technique, did I not? Well-I hardly grieve some poor souls as that, I hardly even can, why pretend,” he ended up sighing, after a moment, and he said, “To be quite frank, if you killed them with your technique, I do not think ordinary fiscal authorities would do anything. But I am worried about Jujutsu sorcerers-they’ll know, particularly since they’re already in the area searching for me.”
Junpei flinched-he supposed that much was true. He nodded.
In a somewhat shaky voice, he ended up asking the curse, for though he attempted to muster forth strength he failed rather fully to do so, “so-what is it that I should do? I don't want to get my mother involved.”
Mahito ended up saying, after a moment, “I suspected this, but I suppose you’ve no brothers, and your father is not here.” He was toying with a finger of his, tapping the cushioned furniture upon which he sat.
“No. It’s just me and my mom,” is all Junpei answered-he didn’t have strength to deal with that situation right now.
Mahito thought for some time, as he continued to place his own hands around his chin, and he ended up sighing. He spent, in such a manner, a good amount of time for contemplation: Nonetheless, he eventually finished, and he once more looked at Junpei, and directly in his eyes too.
“Being quite frank with you, I believe your best choice is joining my side. My own friends themselves would never accept a human: but we’ve a certain-human ally. I do not wish to reveal more about him,” while often being quite a curious and not overwhelmingly serious fellow, the gravity of the words of Mahito were quite clear in such a moment, as the figure proceeded to continue, “for he told me not to: And I do not wish to go against his wishes. He’s strong-he has a variety of twisted humans beneath him, though I know them little for they do not consort with things like me.”
He ended up bringing back a certain lock of his bright blue hair, the one which he had been toying with. “But truly-I do not fully know. I am not even a human-do as you please.”
Junpei knew how powerful Mahito was, due to the way in which the curse had rather violently attacked him the first time that they met-but with the reverence that the curse spoke of the nameless figure, he couldn’t help but wonder what power lay there.
“I’ll do that,” Junpei ended up saying, in a rather hitched sort of manner, “ I trust what you say.”
Mahiot nodded along. There was a certain kind of energy and ferocity in his gaze, and he ended up saying after a moment, “Moreover-I would wish something from you, if it is possible. You’ve told me you know Itadori Yuuji, do you not?”
Junpei nodded along to the words of the fierce figure, the sutures upon the cursed being twisting as he outstretched his limbs. “I know him-he’s a rather nice person,” Junpei ended up admitting, and he soon thereafter said, a sudden thought striking him, “you’d like to see him?”
Mahito ended up nodding, with a fair amount of strength, seeming pleased that he had been understood before even properly launching his inquiry. He ended up patting the cloth of the piece of furniture. “I would very much! I am glad you understand that,” he ended up outstretching his right hand upwards, and he said, “Perhaps he can join us as well-I’d like to get a moment where we are all isolated from other humans.”
Junpei supposed he didn’t much wish them to interrupt in some manner, or to attract the hostile attention of other jujutusu sorcerers which could be of a very notable sort of danger, and which could turn the situation against them. “I can try to get him to come to my school at night-it is rather empty, and I know the places to enter it,” he ended up patting absentmindedly at his own robes, and after a little while admitted to Mahito, “I am-not fully sure he’ll wish to join, though: he’s-very empathetic, from what I’ve seen.”
“It could be an act, for survival,” Mahito ended up saying, after a moment, the words flowing away from the cursed lips without a second of doubt, “and he ought to have some bitterness at his situation-I won’t know until I meet him.”
There was, moreover, a certain shadowy expression which overcame the face of Mahito, not precisely hateful but rather quite serious and contemplative. Another sudden thought overcame Junpei, and he said, “Well-Mahito-well- I just wanted to say-”
“Simply say what you wish,” the curse said, making a gesture with his hand, his posture a rather relaxed one.
“You won’t be forcing him to join if he refuses,” Junpei ended up asking, “will you?”
Mahito’s response came quick. Too quick, it could be said, “No. of course not. Can you do this for me, Junpei?" Junpei thought about it for some moments- a twisting part of him was rather uncertain about the whole situation but: he was a murderer himself now, in the end, and he had been the one who asked Mahito for help. He supposed it wasn’t so great a thing to do.
“I can,” Junpei ended up saying after a moment, “I’ll do it.” A smile overcame the face of the curse, bright and rather cheery. The figure stood up, and patted Junpei in the head as though he were some sort of child.
“That’s good to hear!” Mahito said, with a wide smile as he placed a crooked finger beneath his own cursed lips, “I am rather quite excited, indeed, for tonight!”
…
The sun hung in the sky in a moderate manner, thick and rolling clouds gathering overhead: Their intensity was mighty, and they made it appear, in truth, as though the sun were hidden-a great quantity of blankets, they did resemble, wrapped around that blessed globe, the eye of heaven.
The winds were rather strong, as well-a notable difference from the morning. “And so,” Mahito ended up saying, after describing the conversation with the human lad, “I am going to meet the vessel of Sukuna-I think it is best if I meet him alone, if I’m honest.”
Both Hanami and Geto, his chief companions in the walk, nodded along to his words: Dagon gurgled, Mahito holding onto the little curses hand with his own.
“I’d agree with Mahito,” Geto ended up saying to Hanami, primarily at least, “he’s the most reserved, out of all of you: And the only one who was once human. You can carry out your little plan, I’d say.”
Hanami remained stiff, and proud as some mighty oak, but her words came forth at last, and she responded to the both of them, her muscular body seeming tense, “I understand. Mahito-I simply wished to say, if things become too intense; There is no shame in fleeing.”
Mahito somewhat thought that Geto, in that moment wiping some kind of insect which crawled up to his sutured forehead, knew more: but both he and hanami were filled with the most bright kind of emotions, and the most greedy kind of hopes, regarding the vessel of Sukuna-and that, in truth, meant they expected danger from it.
“I understand so perfectly,” Mahito ended up saying to Hanami, helping Dagon cross over a slight bump which caused his sluglike body some difficulty, “do not fret about that.”
Such words spoken, he turned towards Geto with brisk strength, in the process realizing some people of the street were staring at him: he supposed it made sense, considering the fact that he was speaking to invisible spectres-he ought to seem like a madman, and such things caused Mahito a degree of hilarity.
Nonetheless, he calmed himself-he had more crucial matters to think about. “Geto. If that young man doesn’t back out,” he said, for he seemed rather somewhat unsure, "Will you let him join that group of yours?”
“I do not see why not let the little fool in,” Geto ended up saying, not mincing many words, shrugging, “It is always good to have more, is it not?”
Mahito ended up nodding to those words of his-he supposed that they made a good deal of sense. Geto had always been a rather practical sort of fellow. “I suppose it is,” he ended up saying, and finally noted, “Well-I’ve got some rather good feelings about this. Maybe I shall indeed be able to take him in a peaceful manner-though I am not overly hopeful.”
That was somewhat of a lie. He was overly hopeful, the curse recognized after a moment, but he ended up attempting to convince himself he was not, so if it worked out he would be exceedingly cheery.
“I would have dragged him off myself,” Hanami ended up saying, gently caressing the branches of a tree, and even appreciating the natural cycle inherent to the parasitic insects upon it, the words coming forth like a rustling of so many branches, “but Satoru Gojo was with him, and the sorcerers are smart-they have not given him free reign.”
Which was, indeed, why the current situation was so advantageous. “Precisely!” he ended up saying, “so fortunate a situation may not show itself to us in some time.”
Mahito himself was willing to carry off the vessel for Sukuna-hopefully the vessel would eventually warm up to them and to the situation. It’d all be well. Though even more hopefully, he’d go along willingly. It began to rain in such moments, forcing Geto to place the hood of his odd plastic robe-he did not wear that more formal monkly attire, which he had placed sometimes, as of this day-above his head. Hanami and Mahito both allowed it to flow freely, while Dagon was overjoyed, as he always was, by its presence.
He ended up patting the little curse in the head, with his other hand, while another held it in his own-he loved this. He loved this feeling of camaraderie and companionship, which he couldn’t obtain with any creatures other than the other mighty curses: Geto was pleasant too, notwithstanding his odd behavior at times. What did it matter, indeed, if Dagon often ate human beings? What did the destruction wrought by Jogo mean?
He simply could not bring himself to care, even to a slight degree, about so very many things.
They walked along, waiting as per the human laws that existed in the crossings of the street-so pleasant and so cheery of a time it was, indeed for Mahito! He cheerfully walked in the silent but undeniably present company of those peers of his.
The peace vanished some moments thereafter, a particularly loud motorcar breaking through such an effect; but a lesser form of it remained-he soon thereafter grew inexplicably intrigued by the sutures on the forehead of Geto. “Mahito,” the human ended up saying, after a little while enough, “What is it you are looking at so intensely?”
He got somewhat embarrassed-he was being rather rude, was he not? But he had the same,or a similar, kind of mark upon his frame-truly, indeed, it wasn’t so different.
“Ah! I’m sorry-I suppose it is quite rude to stare. It is just,-” he ended up pursing his own lips, and pointing both at his own sutures and at the scar on Get’s forehead, “I was wondering-both of our stitches are quite deep. I was born with mine, in this life-but what kind of nasty wound created the one on your head?” He was not looking at Geto at that moment, but instead walking alongs, as he admitted, “I was simply curious, is all!”
Nonetheless, a vibrant burst of energy came from his soul, as soon as the words had escaped his cursed and pale lips. It made Mahito stop in his step, and the expression on the face of Geto, as though the subject was a curious one, was entirely absent-as though it were a trained thing, to undergo so as to not reveal anything.
He calmed himself after a few moments, and went along, peaceably saying, in such a common tone that he could scarcely believe the prior expression, “Such a thing? It is quite embarrassing, indeed-you needn’t mind it much. I fell one day, and cut my head quite badly-it didn’t even reach the brain or any such thing-”
The figure shrugged, rather intensely, after a moment.“I really do wish," he said, in such a mournful manner and with such excellent control over his energy, that were he not an expert in reading the minuscule signs of the body, he'd have believed it, “I had a more interesting story to tell you! It is rather embarrassing.”
Mahito nodded to the words of Geto-
Mahito looked around, but Dagon was being Dagon and only somewhat aware of the world around him-the curse very much wished he could communicate with him, it gave him memories of dealing with babes, both his younger siblings in their infancy and those of others-neighbors, cousins, the like. They never could tell you what ailed them-at least Dagon was tough. Hanami was entirely uninterested in the tale of Geto: seemingly finding the lichens and bushes and the aphids upon them more worthy of attention.
But he knew, deep within him, by that expression Geto had made for some moments: it was not good. It was a very wretched kind of situation-there was something deeper involved in the sutures, but he couldn't guess at it.
“I understand! In my previous life,” he ended up responding, in a quite lighthearted demeanor unlike the anxiety which remained with him in such moments, “my father-I saw him little, but I did see him-had a scar from a nasty fall. He always told me when I was little it was from a mountain lion!”
He hadn’t seen the awful, awful creatures in those days: he knew not of their immense size, and of their deadly power-it is only with the might of human ingenuity, and the fierce rifle, he had succeeded and slaughtered his fiendish beast, obtaining his vengeance.
Geto and he laughed, the laugh of Geto being it’s odd kind of form it always was, not quite false, simply-odd. Like his gnarled soul.
He ended up announcing to the whole group, after some moments, for silence reigned for such a length of time, but nowhere near so peaceful-at least for Mahito, hanami seemed without trouble-as before. “I also just wanted to say,” he let fly such words, to the lot of them, “I shall give it my all, indeed-and truly, I do hope the vessel of Sukuna shall join us of his own volition!”
A certain, faint shadow of an immensely smug and amused expression overcame the face of Geto-but it vanished soon thereafter, and he merely nodded politely.
“I am sure you shall, Mahito,” Hanami said, patting him in the shoulder, "I am sure you shall.”
…
Junpei was acting not a little bit suspicious, Yuuji had to admit.
He liked the boy-he really did!-even though he’d only known him for a little while, and he didn’t want to expect the worst from him. He would have liked to have been able to discard the comments of Nanami as being the mere suspicions of the overly formal bloke-
He wore a full-blown business suit for slaying curses! Those things were not something that could be called comfortable for such strenuous activity.
And he really had thought they’d come clean the prior time, when they’d talked and whatnot. But the older boy had an expression of certain guilt, and anxiety, when he approached Itadori Yuuji, and said, “Oh! Yuuji-it is-it is good to see you. Could I ask for a favor from you?”
The sun had not set in such a moment, but it found itself in the foremost point of the sky, before the earth would swallow it up and seemingly extinguish it for the night-how that had enthralled him as a boy. “Of course! We’re friends. What is it,” he ended ups saying, also stating in a calm manner, “I’ve even been to your house already-”
“Good. Good-this going along well," Junpei said, fiddling with his own robes in a manner noticeably more anxious than the last time they’d seen one another, “just-just follow me, alright?”
Yuuji did such a thing, in spite of the somewhat anxious feeling in his own stomach, not giving it much heed; most likely, it would turn out to be nothing at all. Junpei was quite silent the whole way through, and while on another situation he’d have filled up the air with some trivial chatter-the Buddhas or gods or whatever else may dwell in whatever heaven may exist, knew very much Megumi hadn’t been the most talkative of fellows whenever the two were alone-Junpei seemed as though conversation would merely exacerbate the odd gestures of his.
“This is it,” Junpei indeed said, stopping after a moment, and swallowing some of his saliva, “this is my school. I know it’s technically against the rules but-I’d like for you to follow me. There’s no one there anyways-”
Yuuji nodded-Junpei hadn’t gone to school for some time: he hadn’t been attending when they'd first met, so it struck him as somewhat odd. An odd realization came over him, after a moment, “Wait-I know this place! A group of students died here-just this morning-”
Their corpses had been rather mangled, too, though not in the same manner as the ones warped by the pathface curse that Nanami fought: Their skin and their flesh had corroded, to such a degree that their faces were only somewhat recognizable.
Junpei flinched, but he ended up saying, in a rather hurried manner, “it’s really not so bad-follow me. It’s-all shall be well.”
After a moment, Yuuji nodded and acquiesced, following along with ease-this brought back memories to his days with the occult club. He ended up asking, in a rather calm kind of manner, “So-Junpei. Why did you want us to go here, at any rate?”
He may as well have shaken the boy and shouted at him too, for good measure. He flinched, his eyes seemed to widen, and he fiddled more aggressively-it seemed, indeed, that was possible-with the robes that he had upon himself. “Well-I just want you to meet somebody. That is all,” he ended up saying, with a certain shrug, “it’ll probably all be well.”
The both of them scuttled around, in the dim moonlit darkness of their surroundings, like a pair of rather mighty rats scuttling around out of sight. Junpei found a suitable spot, at last, which Yuuji did not fail to note was relatively secluded, and they thereafter remained there.
Quite frankly, the attitude which Junpei had the entire time was somewhat concerning.
“Hey,” he ended up asking, stepping rather close to the fellow, “Are you alright?”
All he received as a response was a rather hushed sort of whisper and assurance that, indeed, all was well. Overall, Yuuji considered the idea that something was going on here-what, he did not know, but he wouldn’t be surprised were he to be attacked in some moment thereafter.
He clenched his own fists-hopefully, at least, he would be strong enough to deal with whatever it was that came forth against him. He hated Sukuna-the curse currently not asleep within him, for he did not sleep, but quite silent, though he still could always feel he neverending frustration and hatred of the awful thing-but he was right upon one thing: he had been weak, too weak.
He was stronger now, indeed, than when he faced the cursed bearer of the finger. But was he strong enough?
No sooner had he thought such things, than a highly oppressive sensation came over him: his muscles all tensed, and his eyes widened,a certain shiver going up his spine. He hadn’t felt this way-he hadn’t felt this way since he encountered the finger bearer. Shortly thereafter, a kind of barrier came up, cloaking the night in even deeper darkness-the same veil employed by sorcerers.
He turned his body to face a staircase, and said to Junpei at once, his own tone brisk and powerful, “Junpei-get out of here! Something dangerous is coming from there-”
He channeled cursed energy, though his control may have been improper, into his fists, charging them as powerfully as he could: Junpei, moreover, reacted in a manner far less great than he ought to. He ended up bringing both of his arms in front of him, as if to pacify Yuuji. “No, no-this is the person whom i wish you to meet, that is all,” he ended up gulping, and noting, “Look-Mahito isn’t a bad person.”
“That’s not true. I very much am quite wretched, if I am counted as a person, but,” the voice of the figure came forth, in a peaceful and quite a bit lighter manner than he would expect, “I’ve finally found you two. Good job, Junpei! And you-you really are here, my king!”
The posture of Yuuji remained tense-the figure before him wasn't physically very imposing: it was actually shocking how human it was. Compared to the oppressive feeling of the powerful fiery curse which Gojo had in so great a manner shamed, compared to the grotesque finger bearer, or to the variety of rather large and horribly deformed curses-it had a human kind of stature, with only the sutures upon its body and the odd colors of its eyes physically marking it as such.
It’s stature was also not very great-it seemed younger than Junpei, at that, and as though it could be a first year-he seemed little older than Yuuji himself. But that pressure-it was an evil, undoubtedly awful kind of energy-of all he’d felt, only Skuna’s was more vil. He ended up turning to Junpei, asking, with a degree of surprise, “You know this curse?” He had thought Junpei suspicious but-dealing with a curse of all things! He ended up turning to the creature, though his eyes had never left it fully, “What do you mean-explain yourself! What do you want?”
“Calm yourself, calm yourself,” the figure said, its tone a perfectly pacifying one, and he ended up saying, “such a brisk temper! Like the son of peleus-I suppose it makes sense.”
The figure's hair was quite long, and rather blue, its skin a hue rather unnaturally pale-it’s sutures made it seem like Frankenstein, or some other kind of chimeric aberration. “I am not your enemy. Are we not both curses, or something of the like,” the creature said, leaning against the wall, placing a hand to its chest, “I am so glad I am finally able to meet you-I merely wished to greet the king of curses in person. No longer do you have to be a dog for such awful humans-I can deliver you freedom.”
The explanation of the curse did not seem to very much explain much, in truth.
There was a certain degree of nervousness in the words of the powerful creature, and it had made a reverence-Yuuji was at a loss for what to do. He wasn’t Sukuna. He was Itadori Yuuji-the words of the creature displeased him, and the odd civility of the monster. “I am not a curse,” that was the first thing he affirmed, a degree of frustration that he’d even been compared to, “do not ever say that again. And I am not Sukuna-I do not wish to be freed, or whatnot.”
He ended up gathering energy, once more, into his own fists. The emotions left the face of the curse for some moments, his eyes, grey and blue but of an unnatural shade, widening. He flinched, as though struck, when he affirmed he wasn’t one of the creatures.
Junpei ended up saying to him, after a moment, placing his hand upon the arm of Yuuji himself, “Look-just-listento him, somewhat. All he wants is to talk. Listen to Mahito.”
He ended up turning to both the curse and Junpei-such a confusing situation! He didn’t know what was happening, but he knew the curse was tricking Junpei now. “Why are you working with a curse of all things,” though it may be capable of communication, it remained what it was, and he also said, “Mahito. I didn’t think curses had names.”
The expression of the supposed Mahito experienced a degree of displeasure at that comment, but he steeled himself, after a moment. Yuuji would’ve much preferred a blow was simply thrown-it’d have been simpler! “Most of us do not. But my friends and I are of a higher calibre-you’ve already met Jogo in fact-little fellow with a short fuse, he’s but one eye. Hanami-the curse of the forests, and Dagon-he’ll talk once he grows older,” having said such things, he made some gestures with his hands, and said to Yuuji, “Look. I was once a human myself-I understand you. But you are something more than a human now-you are supposedly dead, right now, yes?”
“Yes,” Yuuji ended up answering after a moment, quite brusquely. The figure ended up nodding, though he seems to have wished for a longer response-could a curse once have been human?
On second thought-he thinks he has heard of such a thing, though Gojo’s lessons are somewhat rushed: nonetheless, this vile and awful presence could not belong to a human any longer-that much was certain.
“Why tolerate that? Look-I know this Satoru Gojo or whatnot is doing as he wishes. But if the desire remains, they’ll execute you and find a way at some point. And what if Gojo dies, what then? Or if he proves fickle? Look,” he ended up taking a few steps forward, and outretching a hand towards yuuji, a somewhat false smile upon the face of the curse, his voice seeming kindly, “We’ll be the harbingers of a new world-my friends wish it, and I shall be with them, for I shall not allow them to undergo such a path alone. You can be the ruler of it, you can be alive, without conditions-does that not sound better?”
Yuuji wished to live-that much was true. What human, what living creature, did not? The words of the curse were wrought in a more eloquent manner than he’d expected-the volcano-head had done no such things.
But if his life wrought more deaths-he didn’t want that. If he couldn’t control Sukuna, he’d have rather been executed straight away. He wished to live, but nonetheless-
”No. I am not willing to live at the expense of others. I am not a curse. You’re the one who's been responsible for all these disappearances, are you not,” slowly, the curse nodded, and he had flinched once more once Yuuji affirmed the fact that he wasn't one of those things, “You probably killed the students at this school too. How can you do such awful things if you were once a human? Junpei-Why do you work with him?”
The hand of the curse, slowly, stopped being outstretched: real or not, there was a certain expression of anguish upon his face. Nonetheless, it composed itself soon enough. “I see. I understand now,” the curse sighed, seeming to be frustrated to no small degree, “I am the one responsible for the disappearances-I need the strength, and I am a curse-I no longer mind death. I am simply the form God sent to bring them to judgement in the afterlife-”
Nonetheless, a certain smile overcame the face of the curse which lay before him, and his gaze turned to Junpei, who was seemingly acquainted with the curse, and who flinched. “Nonetheless-I was not the one that killed the people here,” he ended up saying, after a moment, “that would be your friend beside you. That is why I have invited him to join the group of a human friend of mine.”
That was-concerting. This supposed Mahito said not the name of the person, but a group of curses and humans working together was-he didn’t know much about curses, not for as long as the sorcerers, but they seemed little more than vile creatures. Even this one before him calmly explained the murders it had performed.
The implications of his initial words, nonetheless, did jump into him all at once. “You lie,” he said, but upon seeing Junpei, wide eyed and with a pale and haggard hue, he ended up saying, asking, “wait-was that truly you, Junpei?” Junpei ended up nodding after a moment, the movement slow and steady.
“It was a mistake,” Junpei ended ups aying, and he ended up voicing his own words soon enough, “but-wht does it matter? They were vile. Most humans are vile. You’re not, yuuji-let us join him, together. He’s right, I think, I don’t think he lies-you’ll be free.”
Yuuji merely shook his head, and said, “No. I already gave my answer.”
The curse before him ended up sighing, seeming to be genuinely anguished to a certain degree; Nonetheless, it thereafter drew a sabre, which really shouldn’t have been able to fit within his body, and some odd little objects he couldn't much make out-soon enough, the sabre gleamed in his hand.
"That's really too bad! I’d hoped we’d be able to be friends, Itadori Yuuji,” the creature tilted its humanlike head, before ginning, and saying, “but I suppose not!”
…
The vessel of Sukuna was tough. Quite tough indeed.
Mahito realized this soon enough, indeed: he managed to stop the sabre with naught but his bare hand, and he thereafter kicked Mahito down through the whole of the passageway's length. The blow hurt as much as the one which the first-grade Nanami had given him-
No. No-it hurt more.
He felt his own body, and he felt at the twisting energy of his own soul: indeed! Indeed-how very curious, he voiced in a boisterous manner, “Amazing! You’ve knowledge of your own soul-astonishing! You struck at mine!”
He couldn’t fully feel the soul of Yuuji, but it was an odd thing-an immense amount of Malice emanated from the soul of Sukuna, a warbled thing which had a certain potency unlike any he’d ever felt before-he felt like one who'd barely ever tasted a few grains of salt at any one time, faced with a lake of brine before him.
And there was a certain quality, somewhat reminding him of Geto’s for an unknown reason, of the soul of the lad: it wrapped around Sukuna’s in so perfect a manner as he’d never seen before-
“Wait! Wait-Mahito, you promised," he ended up saying, with a degree of genuine anguish within his own voice, Junpei, “You promised you wouldn’t hurt him-you’d let him go if he wished.”
“I did, didn’t I?” He’d been supposing whether some souls could, with less repellence, be mixed together, but then calmed himself and said, “I lied, Junpei. This was always something I was prepared for-I am a curse, in the end. Now-”
He ended up readying his sabre, he and Itadori Yuuji ready to go for another round of blows, as he somewhat mended his soul. “You can either fight alongside me, or you can step away,” he ended up unhinging his jaw, into two great pieces, his own sharp rows of fangs, long and needlelike, being clear as he transfigured himself into a more frightful form, “It is your choice, Junpei.”
This said, he jumped at the human, and kicked him straight through the whole concrete wall-he had a good degree of strength, that was for sure!-and threw him lower. He placed his blade around his feet, and in a birdlike aberration of a frame, he flew. With one limb, he securely caught Yuuji, with the other attempting to thrust the blade into his chest-he failed.
The lad wrestled his way up Mahito, and with his own head beat that of Mahito so very hard it shattered. He laughed even as awful pain overcame his frame, as he forced himself to mend his own skull-indeed! His soul was being damaged!
The two of them went upon the earth, billowing dust climbing around them, the grim jaw of Mahito, an aberration mixing a birlike horrid thing with sharp, jagged rows of teeth, and somewhat humanlike features. He laughed, with it, a raspy thing.
“Indeed! You are very strong, Itadori Yuuji,” he ended up saying, having somewhat reworked his skull to seemingly heals. He’d only managed to catch the vessel by his robes, but now, he forced himself upon him, with his jagged talons holding him in place, “but you appear to be quite unreasonable, and reject your own nature. Very well-perhaps my king shall be more amenable!”
And so, in such a manner, he ended up touching the soul of Itadori Yuuji in a complete manner-
It was a feeling unlike any other.
…
The soul of Itadori Yuuji, as it were, was so very closely intertwined with that of Sukuna, that he could not touch that of the lad without at the same time touching that of Sukuna. The feeling was-odd.
There was an immense amount of malice which came forth, and it was strong-but the most important thing, indeed, was that it writhed. The soul of the prior sorcerer had struggled, but this one clawed and tore at him so that he felt like a mere boy wrestling with a bear of the high mountains.
And he thereafter was pulled-he’d attempted to draw his monarch out, but now he stood, returning to base humanoid form, stitches upon him, before Sukuna himself. When he was there, an overwhelming pressure worked itself into every portion of his own body, every cursed tendon, every shred of sinew-Jogo had felt powerful, indeed, and Geto was immense as well-but this-
It had no equal. No equal at all!
He wondered, vainly, if this were how it felt-if this were how the prophets of old had felt when faced with the angels of the lord before them. He instantly bowed, in as respectful and complete a manner as he could, saying, “My king. My heart is full of delight upon seeing you! I am he called Mahito-I request your aid. We wish to bring forth a world of curses, which most surely shall be pleasing to you-I can help you, indeed, make your control of this young man total.”
He did not know where he’d drawn such strength, indeed, to refer in such a direct manner to the immense creature-but he had.
The creature laughed. The mighty being laughed at him with nothing but the wildest and most obscene hilarity that he could possibly have expected. “What a sorry sight! You’re some curse, indeed, playing at such civilities,” the mighty figure continued to laugh, with a certain degree of wretched superiotiy, and he said, “What an excellent laugh! I’ve no desire for all your silly dreams."
He made a dismissive gesture, which Mahito was able to behold. The curse was surprised, indeed, to no small degree by the words of the monarch. “My Lord?” he ended up asking, after a moment, “What ought we to do-how ought we to-serve you, for you to reconsider?”
Another bout of laughter. Mahito would’ve felt a degree of bitterness, if it weren’t for the all-consuming fear which wracked his frame.
“Nothing! I have no desire of teaming up with a group of lowlifes like yourself. It is not how curses ought to behave, I tell you,” he ended up saying, standing up from within that mighty throne of bone, carved as it seemed upon the great pool of shallow blood, “simply kill. Do not mind such civilities-leave that to the humans. Now-as you are so hilarious, I shall let you go for now.”
“But make no mistake,” the voice came forth, with a quality fiercer than iron, “if you touch my soul again, it shall have consequences. Know your place, you wretched fool.”
…
He was woken up by a fist from Yuuji, powerful enough to throw him into a full tree-the tree shattered, indeed, though his own body did remain whole. His breath was jagged-
What a disappointment! What a disappointment indeed, and he ended up punching at the earth, his fear being somewhat gone, as he said, “it simply had to be this way, did it not? Sukuna is as unreasonable as his vessel!“
He braced himself, sabre his in his left hand and his right hand ready to turn into an awful net, to face Itadori Yuuji once more. Moreover, the inhuman lad was restrained by some powerful, twisting appendages belonging to a cursed jellyfish, which tore into him somewhat-even if only lightly.
“Junpei!” he said, full of joy, “So you’ve finally made your choice, haven’t you? It is a good choice, indeed.”
He was able to rest himself up for some moments-he’d drawn up some transfigured humans, hadn’t he, a little while prior, but he’d not returned them to their own form due to the stress of the battle. He ought to do something with them, indeed.
“You don’t have to do this, Junpei,” he ended up saying, the poison seeming to affect the vessel not at all, soon saying, “You do not-why do you side with this awful thing? Look-you killed some people, but that need not be the end-why kill more? You can stop-you can!”
“You don’t understand,” Junpei ended up saying, his voice raw and quite broken, as he gnashed his teeth, ‘you are a good person-you are bright, you are kind! I am not so-’
Mahito ended up sending some of the twisted creatures against him, the powerful extremities of them grasping at Yuuji-in an impotent manner,of course, the lad was much too powerful for them. He ended up hearing their wild garbles, and his eyes shook-their souls were sending more perspirations than usual, indeed, due to the speed with which Mahito had warped them, and the extent.
“Look at what he does! Look at it, Junpei,” he ended up saying, after a moment, wrestling with the creatures, “These are people-people! He tears apart lives like they were nothing at all-you are not like this, Junpei! Do you want this?”
Mahito himself felt nothing. Nothing at all as the little creatures shrieked and spoke their own lamentations-Junpei, moreover, did seem affected by the earnest declarations of his other friend. “I don’t-I don’t know much,” he ended up saying, clutching his own head, “I don’t know.”
“Come with me,” Yuuji ended up saying, seemingly proud in the power of his own words, “You don’t have to continue further down this twisted road-Gojo will help you. Please.”
Mahito ended up coming forth by that point, approaching-the damage to his own soul from the blows of Yuuji wasn’t fading, but he remained whole sufficiently, at the very least. He ended up scratching, his own fingers having been turned into claws, scratched at his own cheeks, drawing forth the red blood. “You feel pity for them, do you not, you feel anguish for their own pain,” he sent forth an odd, twisted laugh, and said, “You really are human! Your soul is so odd-but you’re a human where it counts-”
Mahito ended up finally readying himself, his own fleshy arms warping themselves into an agile, winged form, his own bones growing follow, and all his cursed tissue growing taut-all this, before going into the air. “I-you’re right, my mother wouldn’t want this anyways,” Junpei ended up saying, crumbling into the ground without giving greater heed to the things around him, “you’re right. I ought to just-face whatever consequences come thereafter-”
Mahito swooped before the conversation of them both could continue further, with the sabre aiming to strike at the neck of Yuuji-the rough, fearless youth stopped the steel blade with naught but his arm.
And he succeeded! His flesh was tougher than stone, in truth, and with barely any reinforcement of cursed energy-
He also created some whiplike appendages, steellike, distracting him for a moment more before drawing Junpei up, the way in which the eagle does the lamb or the rabbit, his own claws somewhat tearing into the youth’s flesh.
The transfigured humans-the kindhearted young man still hadn't killed them-struck once more, and Mahito threw a few more for good measure, their gnarled limbs and odd hues and textures of skins showing.
They swooped for some moments, mahito-this time having maintained his face somewhat humanlike-saying to him, breaking thus through the silence which had built up, “So. Junpei-you do not wish to fight with me anymore, is that it?”
“I’m sorry,” Junpei ended up saying, after a moment, “I just-he’s right. I can’t do this.”
His voice had that same weak, rather pitiful tone of his-in truth, he did suppose he’d never been more than a weak youth. “That’s all right. I shall not kill you so soon, and it is not as though I were your father to order you around,” he ended up bringing the young man to a more secluded portion of the school, and threw him, “Moreover, you have to understand-I can’t let you intervene in this.”
He sent forth a human, the flesh expanding and billowing up forth, in the same way as a piece of corn when faced by the heat of fire, the forking tongues licking the bottom of a pot. Soon enough, Junpei was incapable of motion, his limbs caught by the sharp, gnarled flesh of something which had once been human: very securely, so that even when the human yelped he couldn’t much escape his situation-the transfigured human, seeming more a gnarled bush of thorns with odd ears and fingers, thereafter clasped his mouth shut, so few sounds escaped him.
It’d have been so easy-to kill him right then and right there.
The childlike, newer part of him urged him to do such a thing; The same part which wished to employ naught but hedonism. But he thought it foolish-so indecisive a figure could be useful in the future, he was quite weak, and ultimately he didn’t want to antagonize the vessel of Sukuna to an irrevocable degree.
“That didn’t go so well as I thought, Junpei, but you did do your part, and I thank you for it,” he indeed up, sighing, turning his pack to the human youth, and saying, “I wonder if he’ll appreciate my sparing you.”
Most likely not. But one could hope.
…
He ran back to the human, indeed, swiftly enough-the stone bending beneath him, indeed, as he went along: so much might beneath his limbs, but he knew, very much, how impotent he was after having been faced with that aberration, his supposed king-
And indeed, so soon as he went along, he ended up beholding the vessel of Sukuna himself.
The vessel's own limbs were bloodied, and this was not his own as it had been in the rest of the combat; Upon reflection, Mahito wondered how he still stood and fought so valiantly with so many oozing wounds-truly, he had a commendable fighting spirit. It was clear that he’d slaughtered the transfigured humans, his own countenance being full of abundant rage, his teeth gnashed, fists clenched, and breath anxious.
Mahito affirmed such a thing swiftly enough, as he spotted one of his creations-it’s skull torn to shreds, and the matter inside exposed to the world by his beings blows-a distance behind.
“You killed them, for you knew you had to do so. But still-you felt anguish and pain for those rabid things,” he ended up bringing his claws over to his own pale cheeks, tearing off blood, which swept strongly, “I already knew-but you’re human! I am so jealous of you-so very jealous!”
He’d been picked for a role, indeed, within this twisted play of the earth ordained by the forces in the heavens: Same a Mahito had been from his formerly ordinary life-but even fused with such a vile being as Sukuna, the wretched human remained whole.
“You’re weird. I can’t say I understand what your deal is,” Itadori yuuji said, getting into a ready posture even as a worrying amount of human blood coated his own robes, “but you toy with humans lives in an awful manner-you’re gross. Did you kill Junpei?”
“I did not, in truth,” he ended up saying, readying his sabre once more, and in a single bound lunging with all the ferocity of a tiger, “But what’s it matter, indeed? You’ll die today, or come half-dead with me.”
He wasn’t, indeed, altogether sure anymore if Sukuna was truly something which was beneficial to them-he seemed like a ravaging flame, tearing all uncaring of identity. And Itador Yuuji was a human-he accepted that.
Moreover, so soon as the blow was meant to strike at Itadori, another mighty blade came forth-it matched the strength of his own, three blows being exchanged between them, before he struck at him with such strength to send him flying back at a gnarled tree of the empty campus -destroying both it, and some of the artificial stone of the building itself
Mahito readied himself swiftly enough, beholding, indeed, the seven-and-three sorcerer-he’d become certain, indeed, that was the proportion al in that final strike. Having come, his countenance was as stout as always and his appearance as dapper, in spite of the fiery exertions of his soul.
Nanami was sharing some conversation with Itadori Yuuji, and he heard his own name-and the word patchface, which he supposed was he-and that of Junpei. “Nanami! You have come, indeed,” he ended up striking with such ferocity, they had to jump back to avoid him, “the more the merrier, I do suppose! No matter-I shall have to handle you two, I do suppose.”
He was frustrated to no small degree when, rather than answering to his own words, the grade-one sorcerer readied his cleaver, and in so proper manner as always said, “I understand. I shall open a path for you, Yuuji-we can exorcise the pathface curse if we play our cards correctly.”
They ended up fighting, in a painful assortment of implements: Within the first portion of the fight, he ended up using his blade, held in his right arm and hand, and his left and which he transpired into a variety of winding steely whiplike appendages. They further wounded the two individuals, but he sadly noted he couldn’t use his technique against them in so thin a form, and the wounds they inflicted could only ever be minor-
Still. That was enough, indeed, for Mahito, as he ended up forcing them to focus fully and entirely upon him-the fierce and jagged blade of his, indeed, attracted the full attention of Nanami.
“Have you gotten slower, or is it i who has gotten faster,” he ended up saying, in twisted mockery, and continued, “for you are overtime, are you not, but your blows have so little strength! And you’ve a companion this time, too.” His body moved, indeed, without even needing to comprehend the exact events which were occurring before him-
He laughed, with glee, though neither Yuuji nor the first-grade thought it fitting to pay him any heed to his own words. He felt a though his soul and his cursed body grew intertwined to a greater degree-
It wasn’t truly a dance, the fight, it had not the rhythm and order of one; but it had the same kind of exhilarating exertion of the body, and at last, he felt something within him grow aligned.
“I understand! I can do it now," he ended up saying, in a wild cackle, "I understand!” And no sooner had such a reveleration been opened, indeed, than an opening came-he managed to strike directly at the stomach of Nanami, and tear it open, sickly fluids coming forth-he kicked the fool, for good measure.
It was, indeed, the kind of wound which did not kill at once; but which would lead to immense agony, and to eventual death after hours or days-though he had heard, indeed, some of the sorcerers had inhuman techniques for regeneration.
He wouldn’t give him the chance.
This done, he turned against Yuuji, and successfully managed to cut the left foot of the fool-he’d turned his eyes towards Nanami, shrieking the name of the sorcerer, and thus allowing an opening-and he then cleaved at the shoulder of the pitiful fool. He pulled him close, and said, “What a commendable emotion, to worry for your comrade! At least that I still share with you-but you are a fool, indeed.”
The curse threw the human, at last, though he knew his own body was beginning to reach its limits, alongside his last transfigured humans-he offered a substantially greater degree of resistance to the winding, thornike extremities of the creature than Junpei had done, but still-he could feel victory.
Nanami managed to stand up, in spite of his wound, and would have succeeded with his mighty will to cut off the head of Mahito, for he’d been distracted with Yuuji-
Had it not been for the new revelation which had opened up itself to him: he opened his grim jaw, and there manifested themselves pale and twisted appendages which contorted themselves to match hateful sigils.
“Domain expansion," he ended up breathing out, with a maniac glee, “Self-embodiment of perfection.” The barrier opened itself up, with all the potency that could be expected-darkness enveloped the region, and a variety of twisted, gnarled apendages-his, apendages-manifested themselves in such a macabre temple. Nanami could do nothing against him, being securely caught by the extenct of his power.
He had won. He truly had won!
He allowed himself to manifest glee in such a situation, cackling mightily, even though he could feel the strain of it upon his body. “I have a domain! Now I’ve a domain too, my friends, I wish you could see this,” he ended up twisting his grim jaw into an awful grin, and he pointed to the first-grade sorcerer, “you fought valiantly, human, but I’m afraid it clear who God has granted victory today.”
There came no response from the figure, but he did take off his goggles, and he seemed to have, as it seemed, made peace with his death-the convulsions of energy resounding from his soul halted their ferocity, and a placid, saddened expression overcame his face.
“Regardless, I do thank you,” Mahito ended up saying, “Without you two, I couldn’t have awoken this technique. But now it is time for you to die-”
He’d take Yuuji with him: he’d restrained the vessel of Sukuna, after all-he was rather sure he’d eventually warm up to them, and resign himself tot his fate. If Sukuna refused to cooperate, he’d simply force the human part of the two to fall back in line. His victory was total to such a degree, that he rid himself of his prior murderous plans for those instants.
No sooner, however, had he steadied himself from his inane ramblings of glee, and prepared to slaughter the wounded and exhausted human before him, than the barrier of his domain broke-
Yuuji entered, in spite of his abundant wounds, and in spite of the absolute lack of energy of his soul, his countenance being wracked by the most fierce expression which one could possibly have expected.
No sooner had he done so, than his technique automatically grasped at the soul within him-and indeed, the words hammered into him went through him with immense strength. “Have I not spoken tnao you once, worm, and told you how things were,” the voice came forth immediately, as the soul of Sukuna writhed within his vessel, his power surging forth, being able to do so due to the particular world of the domain of Mahito, “You wretched fool-you really do need a lesson. Know your place, little cursed spirit.”
His domain broke apart, as his own body was injured in a deadly manner by the strokes of Sukuna-it took every ounce of strength, indeed, to bring his body back together-and that was but illusion, for the damage remained there, within his very soul.
And so great was the pain, from the way Sukuna had torn him apart and the exhaustion of opening his domain and the rest of the combat, he could even swear he saw the hills and dwellings of his own native town open before him.
He calmed and steeled himself, however, as the both of them charged against him-truly, they were both in a pitiful state, but Mahito was in one which was far worse.
“I was wrong; it is you whom God has chosen to be the victors for this day,” he ended up saying, his own mouth contorting into a twisted sort of smile, “So be it!”
A sudden thought overcame him, and he inflated his own body to an enormous degree; tissue swelling uselessly, though even this pitiful transformation exhausted his soul, ravished by damage and crushed by exhaustion-it felt as though his body and spirit burned and tore itself apart with every movement.
The vessel of Sukuna struck at him with rage, thus allowing him to flee.
He did not know how long he crawled, for he took the form of a boneless snake, writhing within cracks and within the deepest and darkest potions of the sewer-even though such portions were, indeed, filled with wastewater-all in order to escape.
He could sense the soul of at least one other human crawling through the sewers, seemingly near the area of his collection-Mahito was improving his own senses somewhat.
He found an insular, wretched sport,at last, returning to his original form; A simple, exhausted lad, stitched together, with a hue and texture of skin rather inhuman. He heaved his breaths, and found himself incapable of any motion at all.
“Today was such a failure,” he ended up whispering, clawing at his own hair, with much strength, “Such a failure! I grew stronger, but nonetheless-”
He ended up letting out a great sigh, and a great many heaving coughs-the darkness welcomed him, like a blind mother unaware of the hideousness of her son, and in this grotesque and twisted portion of human society-what was he, indeed, but another twisted product of them, even if he remembered the life of some hapless wretch-welcoming him fully.
“Oh well,” he ended up sighing, mustering sufficient strength to heave himself up somewhat, and move slightly, “What is done is done, is it not? I did my very best.”
That was true, was it not? He’d strained himself beyond what could possibly have been expected of him-but, it seemed, his best was not enough. He still did not know how the lad had moved with such strength, with bleeding stump for a foot and al the prior blunt and edged wounds on him-
He truly was a beast, indeed, of a human being.
“This will not be the last time we face one another,” he ended up realizing, and he touched his own chin, “But that is well. I have learned. I have learned much today.”