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The curse smiles, all teeth and malice as he towers over the shaman and suddenly Fushiguro Megumi is reminded exactly why Ryoumen Sukuna is crowned the undisputed, undefeated King of Curses.
The shaman curses under his breath and orders his shikigami to fall back. He only just stumbled upon the scene, seeing a flash of pink hair and going “fuck it”, not expecting that very same flash of pink hair to be bleeding. Much less under Sukuna’s control.
How long has it been since he’s last seen him? Days? Time passed by so excruciatingly slow after the Shibuya Incident, with the entirety of Tokyo thrust into the very depths of darkness and the higher ups clamoring to seize the opportunity to finally exterminate the teen before him. With Megumi himself being assigned to be one of his many executors.
What a truly cruel fate.
Megumi winces at his aggravated wounds. He still hasn’t fully recovered, having been sent out the moment he was able to stand to assist in the evacuation efforts. Whatever’s left of his cursed energy bubbles up and forced up front as he braces himself for the-
“Stop that.”
Megumi gapes, jaded emerald meets blazing gold (weren’t they just red a second ago?) and the King of Curses’ markings being washed away like spilled ink on porcelain, the vessel’s Itadori Yuuji’s grip firm and unwavering on his chin as he forces himself to face away. Sight all too similar to that fateful night on the rooftop, but this time, in place of that spark of hope and beacon of light is something different.
This time there’s an underlying darkness that drowns out the beacon of light.
“It’s always Fushiguro this, Fushiguro that-”
Itadori growls, voice thick with venom as he practically spits out his words, the poison inside overflowing and coming to light-
“I’m your vessel. Pay more attention to me, you shitty curse”