Chapter Text
It was something that movies, training, and frankly expectation never prepared you for.
Fights, especially fights with guns, were really, really loud.
Yuji's ears were running after the first shot in the cramped corridors of the apartment complex, adrenaline, training, and frankly pure stubbornness kept him going. His fist hit someone's face, staggering them out of position, and by the time he went for another haymaker he was somewhere else. His brother's cursed technique kept both of them moving, pushing them forwards to knock out the people with guns as fast as possible.
It was a blur. In one second, he was in the living room, then he was in the hallway. Yuji didn't bother thinking about his next move, every punch was a motion leading to the next hit. And with each hit, he felt things that he thought he never would.
Bones shattered under his fist. Eyes bloodied and popped under his knuckles, and silent screams of pain were choked short. Yuji didn't think they were actually silent, but with all the ringing in his ears Yuji couldn't really hear that well anyway.
It took a few moments of silence for the ringing to stop, and Yuji found himself leaning out from the remains of someone's apartment. A knocked out pile of the members of the Elite were stacked up just outside any field of fire, but that brought up the obvious question.
Why the fuck were they shooting at them?
"They're being controlled, fool."
The bored monotone cut through the pounding in Yuji's head. Sukuna's mouth had formed on his cheek, sighing. As the last of the forced silence faded away, the voice of the King of Curses remained.
"Isn't it obvious?"
"What?" Yuji asked.
The mouth groaned, and Yuji could imagine that demonic clone of himself rolling his eyes on his throne of bones.
"You're as thick as the skulls I tread on," the King of Curses groaned, "The entire Foundation is dedicated to keeping you worthless sorcerers alive, and you think that a country spanning organization would send out chattel armed with tiny fireworks to take care of a sorcerer, even one as pathetic a child as you? They're being forced, either by some 'master power', or some droll technique."
Yuji frowned, even as he dipped to throw a rock at a kid with a shotgun that was rushing towards him. It hit the kid's head, and he dropped like a puppet with its strings cut. Thankfully, the gun didn't go off, but it gave an idea. Someone, barely as old as Yuji, rushing with a shotgun? That was insane!
"Hey, I'm sixteen!"
"And you've never felt the touch of a woman."
Yuji launched himself to the next room, rolling to some other barely used apartment.
"Are you seriously making fun of me for that?" he asked. "It's the twenty-first century, not the Heian Period, old man."
"Children and making excuses for their incompetence. Some idiocies transcend eras." the mouth said. Yuji could just imagine the demonic copy of himself sighing on his throne, rolling his four eyes.
"Besides, talking about this with me is fucking weird."
"So is cannibalism to most people, but that didn't stop me." Sukuna commented.
"Can you just shut up?!" Yuji screamed, only to cringe when he heard muffled shouting start rushing towards him.
"No. I'm hoping I distract you long enough for you to be killed by a bunch of mortals. It would save me from suffering the cavernous emptiness of your skull."
"You're so annoying."
"I assure you, living inside your mind as you deliberate over the pointless melodrama and infantile concerns is far worse than anything I have done to you. You and that other vessel of mine should fight or fuck about it already."
"Excuse you!?" Yuji yelled, feeling disgust coil inside him.
"Incredible. You manage to stumble beneath my expectations yet again. You can't even notice when someone is willing."
Yuji instinctually ducked behind his cover, hoping no one saw him, but they were gathering towards him so it's only a matter of time.
"I'm not gonna- wait willing?"
"Of course that is what you focus on while you're getting shot at?" Sukuna groaned, "Please just kill yourself and let her eat your corpse."
"You're sick."
"And you're worthless. Worse, you're cowardly."
Yuji exhaled through the nose, grabbed a broken door and chucked it at Elites on a balcony before they could rain fire at him. He rushed up, jumping up to them before they could recover and with well placed punches, they all went down like rag dolls.
"First of all, she's my friend. And we're teenagers."
"Every generation the sensibilities get softer. First they demanded I not kill nobles. Then they wanted me not to kill and eat the peasants. Now children whine when I speak of ordinary topics. How humanity has survived baffles me."
This dementia-addled sex and cannibalism obsessed fucking boomer!
"Please, continue struggling to find insults for me in your head while ignoring the grenade right next to you. I may be free of you yet."
Fu—BOOM!
He leapt away as the grenade detonated, showering his skin in shards that punched into his skin. His legs moved him without his mind's input, running down a hallway as fast as he could. Sukuna was distracting him, he couldn't afford that. Yuji took a deep breath. He had to lock the fuck in already. Taylor was out there and he couldn't leave her alone.
He threw a piece of drywall at an Elite aiming a shot. They hesitated, pulling their gun up to shield themself. Yuji closed the distance, grabbing the rifle, ripping it out of their hands. He turned, using the momentum of his body to crack them upside the head with the gun. They dropped, letting Yuji throw the gun down the hall, cracking another gunman upside the head. It let him see Todo who was cleaning up the fighters with a series of jabs, three blows taking out three fighters, only to leave a fourth that brought their gun to bear on Yuji.
With a clap, Todo was in front of him, his body glowing with cursed energy. A shotgun goes off right into Todo's abs… which only made steam come from the skin. Yuji's brother looked at the shooter, a look of utter disappointment on his face before slapping the shooter hard enough to send them spinning.
Yuji blinked, then Todo was right beside him again, grabbing him and moving him back before the spray of automatic fire obliterated the space that Yuji just was. Todo grinned.
"You doing okay, brother?"
Yuji shrugged his shoulders, taking the time to gather his breath.
"My house guest is being annoying, and really inappropriate."
"Says the cowardly virgin."
"Fuck you."
"I'd sooner cut off my own cock."
Yuji blinked, readying himself as even Todo hesitated at the comment.
"Can't you grow it back?" Yuji asked.
"Permanently you drooling-"
Gunshots blasted the wall next to Todo and Yuji apart. Some part of Yuji's head continued to analyze. Automatic fire, shooting through the walls. Everyone is mind controlled, try not to kill them. Keep working.
And pray that Taylor is doing okay.
(X)
Who the fuck made a basement this far down?
Taylor walked down the concrete steps heading deeper underground as she heard Jogo's footsteps behind her. Whatever had done it certainly hadn't been human. With every step, the realization of what this was grew with every breath. The air shimmered with cursed energy that made her stomach turn.
A domain permeated every breath. An uncontrolled, pathetic display of power. It was nothing compared to either Jogo's or Geto's domains which were infinitely more refined. This was like an engine that was wasting its fuel heating the air around it rather than an engine putting everything into making a car move. Taylor got to the last step, turning around to see a hallway of stairs leading even further down.
"How deep do you think it goes?"
One arrow could turn this entire underground into a-
"Deep enough your technique won't destroy enough. Besides, you don't have the firepower unless you get close."
Taylor sighed, well, there went that idea. Despite the use of her blood, simply pointing her finger and watching something explode was getting rather comfortable. It was a thought that never would have passed through her mind a year ago, and it probably said something that everyone around her seemed on board with the practice. Nevertheless, she headed forward, head on a swivel.
Next to her, Jogo looked utterly bored. His lone eye was half open like he was walking into a battlefield filled with kindergarteners instead of something potentially dangerous. The deeper they went the darker it got, to the point where Taylor was annoyed she didn't have a flashlight. However, of the two of them, one of them was a living spirit of fire that could make a light and Taylor glanced his way.
"You mind giving a-"
Jogo held up a hand. Taylor's ears popped from the superheated air flashing over her as a torrent of fire exploded from Jogo's hand. Metal and concrete melted into slag, blasting open a doorway that was only a few paces in front of them that Taylor didn't notice. On the other side of the wall of melted metal a huge open area of pipes and catwalks opened up. Below, broken pieces of concrete bridges and water covered the ground, while the catwalks aimlessly went from one room to the next. Some didn't even go into a room, simply going into the wall.
A room of dozens of directions, with no structure, just space and power, with the material to build something.
"It's here." Jogo stated, "watch yourself."
"I know that." Taylor said. "But where specifically?" She said as she turned around.
And saw multiple eyes looking back at her, a milk-white naked being with a rictus mouth gazing back at her.
It screamed. "GIIIIIIIIIIIII!" Taylor felt her collarbone break as a blow struck her in the shoulder and sent her flying across the room. She felt herself land in a heap on the catwalk, pushing herself up with one arm.
The other…
Fuck it hurt, everything hurt! She spat out a glob of blood from a cut in her cheek, and she couldn't feel her right arm. Everything was hurting so much. Frankly the only thing keeping her from screaming was the sight of the spirit in front of her. It had the shape of a man, with arms and legs, but with four milky white eyes and a pure white body. A single cloth kept its modesty in check, not that she was sure it had any to keep with its claws for fingers and toes, and a manic smile on its teeth.
Just looking at it made her shiver, the energy alone. It was strong, no doubt about it, and she was already down an arm.
"Jogo!" Taylor yelled, feeling terror grip her heart as she rose up, seeing the muscular Curse Spirit still stand there, fist out as it seemed to grin. "Help!"
The milk-white spirit turned, looking at the relatively bored cyclops.
"GIGIGIGIGIGIIIIIII~!" It charged, leg reared back to kick.
Jogo blocked the kick with a raised forearm, and with a lightning fast jab, and Taylor saw the Curse Spirit gargle in agony, rolling across the floor before its body recovered and shimmered.
"GIIIIIII…." It growled, but the cyclops looked down at it as if one looked at a rodent.
"I have no quarrel with you." Jogo stated. "You want something to maim," He pointed at her, and Taylor felt her stomach drop. "Choose her. She's weak and little to serve as a morsel."
"You're here to protect me!!" She barked, and Jogo looked back at her, eye narrowed and unimpressed.
"What?" Jogo uttered, leaning back on a stone pillar. "You're still alive aren't you? That was the Binding Vow I was forced into. And besides, alive." He rolled his neck. "Is a very broad spectrum."
Fuck you, is what she wanted to say. She showed him the slightest ounce of compassion and sympathy earlier, and that's now fucking gone.
And…
Weak? Little?
"I'm not weak anymore." Taylor hissed as she got up. She pulled blood from where her bones broke the skin and drew back to form her flaming bow. Her arm screamed in protest, but she forced the motion. Sparks grew, the flame started.
The milk-white spirit was on her, punching her right in the gut as she coughed up her lunch. Then came a snapping kick to her jaw, sending her tumbling through a rusted pillar. Her back ached. She spat blood onto the floor, and instinctually, she knew what this was. It was sport, not animalistic, the curse was sentient enough to play with its food and enjoy it. Somehow, she got her still good arm under her, feeling like the world was still spinning, her head dizzy from the damage and blood loss.
She didn't think she had that much blood in her. And now it was outside of her. Funny that.
Taylor chuckled, despite herself. With her one good arm, she slammed her hand over the puddle, coating her hand. With her hands to her lips, she blew, and the bloodied fingers became the conduit for a flamethrower to erupt out. A wall of fire exploded into existence, pipes melted and turned to molten slag, the ground became molten as the wash of fire went straight for the curse. The four eyes widened right before the blast hit it like an artillery shell.
She breathed out… did she get it?
Her left arm was yanked to the side and the spirit's hand came down. She screamed.
A roundhouse kick came at her head, sending her careening across the ground as her new stump sprayed blood. Her glasses shattered. Her body spasmed, everything felt numb.
Was this shock?.
"GIGIGIGIGIGI~" The Curse Spirit giggled mockingly, eyes gleaning with sadistic malice while Jogo looked on in amusement.
The cruel, stupid grin on the curse's face. It was so mind numbingly familiar. Her breath caught, and she remembered where she saw its like.
Those. Three. Plastic. Fucking. Humans.
She rose up even as the Special Grade tossed her arm into the molten ground where it began to cook. Rage and hate and loathing and cruelty and hunger and avarice and pride swelled up within her gut, clawing at her reason. Taylor let them wash over her. It felt wrong, giving in. But it also felt so, so right.She was still breathing. She wasn't dead yet. And she sure as shit wasn't going to roll over and take it. That part of her life was over.
She grit her teeth and ignited the blood rushing from her arm, cauterizing what remained except for a single point—an artery, she thought—that still wept gouts of crimson. How she hadn't passed out from the pain, blood loss, from everything overwhelming her, she didn't know, and she didn't care.
She channeled energy to her feet, and the blood pool under her feet ignited. Launching like a rocket towards her opponent, Taylor smiled in satisfaction when she saw the curse's eyes widen. The milk-white spirit caught it and she felt her ankle be squeezed in a vice.
She angled her bloodied stump at the spirit, and grinned. Its irises went completely black in surprise.
The blood spewing from her veins ignited. A singular bolt of fire that blasted out with more force than anything Taylor felt her do before. The spirit spun her, maybe to throw her, to get her to miss, to get her away; but she still caught it by the shoulder with her remaining arm.
The spirit howled in agony as she showered in him in fury. Its arm went molten and cut off, letting her bring up her other hand in a palm strike. This time, the fire was like a shotgun, a wall of flame that slammed into it like a sledgehammer. Taylor tumbled through the air with the recoil, but the spirit? She saw in satisfaction as it slammed into the wall hard enough to dent metal and turn concrete into dust. The smelt of burnt flesh and steel met her nostrils as she fell to the ground.
She felt herself go weak. She was definitely in shock now. Blood loss was setting in. It didn't matter. There were plenty of things she needed to do still and she was running out of time to think.
The blood was the fuel, but cursed energy was the spark. That proved cursed energy could create things, but for some reason that didn't extend to healing. The books she'd read confirmed that much. Why was that the case? Cursed energy was fundamentally hostile to life. Everything formed from it wanted to murder and destroy because of it. Evil, manifest, didn't want to heal. It made sense. It followed naturally from observation and reason.
The curse, embedded in the far wall, shifted. No time.
She took a portion of her dwindling energy and mashed it around. Trying to flip it, achieve something. No matter what she did her cursed energy failed to change its fundamental attributes. Gojo had tried to describe positive energy as the product of cursed energy multiplied against itself, but even she could tell that his explanation stopped making sense when you actually applied it. Hate and hate put together didn't make love. Cursed energy wasn't a mathematical object. It only worked that way for him because that's how he saw the world. She'd read the pages from his and Geto's partner, Shoko, speaking of creating motioning the cursed energy in a push and pull. Was that the key? Personal understanding?
The curse's burned visage slowly restored itself. An arm popped free and began to lever the rest of it out of its imprint in the concrete. Her form remained limp and unresponsive with nothing left to give.
So then, what was cursed energy to Taylor? That was a hard question. She felt around inside her gut for it. It burned where it always did. Where it likely always had, before she had the eyes to see it and the catalyst that had turned the darkness and hatred she'd suppressed for years in the face of injustice into sorcery.
Cursed energy turned to sparks and the sparks burned down and down.
The curse was free now, and it was no longer laughing. It screamed, primal and furious, but didn't move to finish her. It didn't see her as a threat.
And oh, how that burned. How it grated. More and more cursed energy became sparks. One spark was a flash in the pan. Many sparks was a bonfire.
"In the souls of the people the grapes of wrath are filling and growing heavy, growing heavy for the vintage." That was a great novel, but now Taylor realized she had only understood it in the intellectual sense. If she'd really understood it, she never would have put up with all the bullshit life had thrown at her for as long as she had. No one ever started a revolution because they were happy with the status quo. Thanks for the recommendation, Mom.
The fire grew even as she held it in check, and everything extraneous inside it burned away. Purifying, condensing, changing.
The curse stalked towards her.
The energy inside her turned positive.
It flowed through her, stitching bones, mending cuts, filling her with rushing blood and even rejuvenated her incinerated curls. She cracked her neck and ran both hands through her hair, lifting the blood-soaked strands out of her face.
She grinned madly at the curse. "What? Did you think this was over?"
"Grrrriiiiiiiiii!" The pale skin Curse snarled as it disappeared from sight. Taylor's soaked shoes came alight as she burst out of the way, avoiding a ground shattering axe kick from the Finger Curse. She twirled, her rejuvenated left hand pointing at the curse, whowas surrounded by the blood stained debris she had bled out on.
Idiot might as well have been surrounded by C-4.
"Boom." She muttered, giggling as the blood stained debris detonated. The curse shrieked in agony.
It charged towards her as it immolated, her blood clinging to it like napalm.
She swung her hand sideways, and the Curse howled as it was sent flying, as if dragged by invisible strings.
She brought her left middle and index fingers to her teeth, biting down to the bone. She can feel herself grow a little lightheaded. Blood was expensive to restore. She had enough left.
Blood collected from around the room and condensed into a great arrow. The curse sprinted around her, trying to stay ahead of her aim as it burned.
It was stupid though, and that made it predictable. It came from her right and the ground beneath her feet exploded, launching her up and away. She drew an invisible bow and drank in the fear in the unnatural creature's eyes.
"Fuga." She whispered, and loosed.
A great gout of flame erupted, blazing forth and incinerating the curse before her as it barreled through the sewers, incinerating metal and stone, sending steam and flames rushing through the tunnels. Taylor breathed in and out, feeling the high and adrenaline of it all as she stumbled away from the smoldering and scalding ruin before her. Molten red debris laid out in front of her, stretching for over a hundred meters.
She took care of it. On her own. A Special Grade Curse. At the center of the destruction she saw a gnarled finger, unharmed despite it all.
How delightful.
With a twirl of her hand, the flames came alive, carrying the finger towards her. The same thing that the bitches forced down her throat, she would have been repulsed by.
With power like this on offer, she didn't feel so bad about it anymore.
She pocketed the finger, and walked off as she ran her hand through her long dark locks.
Taylor turned around, and walked off and she felt annoyed at walking through the hot room barefoot.
She saw Jogo standing there, single eye wide.
"You coming or what?" She smirked. "Little man."
Jogo said nothing. And followed.
(X)
Yuji rolled his shoulder, sighing as he sat down on top of… honestly? He'd lost count of how many people he'd knocked out since the fighting started. At the very least, the police were here with the PRT. Todo was giving a very enthusiastic recounting of what had happened and under him, the Elite member that Yuji had probably given a concussion groaned.
He frowned as he thought.
Who could've made them do all this? And in Alexandria's city too. Worst of all somehow it had worked, and stalled them all while they were hunting a curse. Now Taylor was MIA and—
"Hey Yuji, what happened here?"
He relaxed instantly. She was fine.
"Just a bit of a firefight, nothing Todo and I couldn't handle how… about…" his voice trailed off as he took her in.
Her head was matted in blood, her shoes were burnt off, and her feet were caked in charcoal. One of her arms didn't have a sleeve, and her chest had bloody smears on it.
"Holy crap! What happened to you? You okay?" He saw Jogo come from behind her, looking cross as usual.
Taylor blinked, looking down at herself.
"Oh, this? It's not as bad as it looks. Anyway, I got the finger."
She pulled out one of Sukuna's fingers, and smiled. Yuji tried to smile with her but there was a lump in his throat. Mocking laughter sounded in the back of his head.
"Is something wrong?" Taylor asked, and Yuji shook his head.
"Oh, no, nothing. Just got something on my mind is all." Not technically a lie.
The laughter only got worse.
"Alright then!" Todo snapped his fingers. "Seems everything is a-okay! And sistah, you handled the hive all by yourself!" He cupped his chin. "Then again, I imagine Brotha would have been able to. But it only creates…" He takes a deep inhale, hands raised in the air as if he was possessed by the holy ghost. "Uwoooooooh~!"
And brought them down, index and thumb fingers tapping each other to make a picture frame. "PAARFECTO PICTCHA!"
Yuji blinked. Taylor looked at him deadpan. As did Jogo.
"How do you tolerate this fool." Jogo grumbled, eye angled towards Taylor.
"He's… quirky." Taylor said politely. "Let's call in Geto-Sensei." She patted her pocket, smiling with pride. Normally it would have made Yuji happy for his friend.
But something seemed off.
As the police and some heroes that Yuji didn't recognize rounded up the bound up Elites, he watched Jogo follow Taylor through the throng of first responders as Todo's monstrous physique drew more than a few eyes.
She had an air about her too… something that didn't fit.
Okay. Something was off.
He got out his phone, finding Gojo-Sensei's contact and texting him.
"When you have a minute, can you call me?" He hit send. Hopefully it was nothing.
(X)
How delightful. Even at his age he could still be surprised. A single push, and this unremarkable host of his had excelled. A single drip fed of realization, flowing from him to her in a way that she hadn't noticed.
The Disaster Curse had a good enough eye to notice it, quite impressive. He might have been someone to watch if he hadn't been weak enough to be controlled by a sorcerer. It made things shape further, greater than what he expected. So many plans, so grand and so perfect.
It made Ryomen Sukuna smile.