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Junpei knows there is something…off about Itadori.
When he was young, his mother read him fairytales filled with witches and monsters and evil spirits. The stories were simple. They varied in plot and names and beginnings, but at the end of the day, the demons would be vanquished by knights and princes - some variation of strong and brave humans. He had been certain that the heroes were human. He had taken the fact for granted.
Now, he is not so sure.
Junpei is an observer. He’s good at it too, that’s why he tried to start a film club at his old school. He enjoys watching movies, trying to guess the ending through minuscule details and finding loopholes, things that veer from the narrative. In a film, the truth is never glaringly obvious.
The same applies to life.
It’s the little things that give it away.
It’s the way Itadori smiles, his teeth just a little too sharp and just a little too white. It’s the way his shadow not quite right - its movements are not smooth, but sharp and stuttering. It follows too slowly, never quite keeping pace. At times, the dark reflection simply looks wrong - Itadori does not have two faces or four arms or a gaping hole on his stomach and yet he does in the brief moments that Junpei catches a glance.
It’s the way Itadori knows things he shouldn’t. In class, they learn about historical events; the rise of emperors and the destruction of kingdoms and horrifying wars. They will be shown an ancient artifact of some sort and Itadori will laugh and read the inscription upon it (“It means The King of Curses!”).
But how could he know? When world-renowned archaeologists had tried and failed to translate the sloping calligraphy, the missing letters? When that language had been long lost, dead for centuries?
Junpei files the information away in the back of his mind. Itadori is nice. The only person who has ever cared about him. Junpei is probably just being paranoid.
(Ignorance is bliss, after all.)
Occasionally, he accompanies Itadori on missions.
They’re tasked with exorcising a hoard of curses in an abandoned school.
He summons Orizaki, his jellyfish shikigami, and can’t help but notice how much it shrinks in Itadori’s presence, how it always chooses to stay far far away, how it never lingers longer than it has to.
Orizaki is tied to him. Junpei knows that it is afraid.
It shouldn’t be scared. Itadori is his friend. He had saved him from Mahito. Itadori would never hurt him.
(Why does it sound like he’s trying to convince himself?)
They find the source soon after — a mountain of corpses piled inside a classroom. Their eyes are frozen, hollow as they stare into the great beyond. Large tears into gray skin reveal mangled intestines spilling out like ragged dolls torn open by careless children. Plump wriggling maggots burrow into red flesh by the hundreds, gorging themselves on fresh meat. Junpei’s stomach turns, the bitter taste of bile filling his mouth. Itadori steps on the corpses effortlessly, his sneakers cracking bone and bursting skin. Blood splatters on his clothes. He doesn’t seem to notice.
The smell - like rotten meat that had been left outside to fester for days on end, with a hint of saccharine sweetness on top. Junpei gags, bundling his clothes in an effort to cover his nose with his uniform. It doesn’t help.
“Shouldn’t we...bury the bodies first?” Junpei asks, trying to keep his voice stable.
Itadori tilts his head. “Bury them? Why?”
It’s a question he isn’t prepared for. “Um....respect for the dead?”
“Respect for the dead?” Itadori repeats, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “They’re dead already. What does it matter what happens to their bodies?”
Junpei can’t respond. He doesn’t know how.
“This is making me hungry,” Itadori says, leaning down to pick up one of the heads. He inspects it, rotating it delicately, blood dripping down his arm. “I didn’t eat yesterday.”
(Itadori’s eyes are red - a trick of the light?)
He stares at Junpei, for a moment too long. Junpei’s breath catches in his throat and he tenses, blood thundering in his ears. He wants to scream, wants to run, but he can’t. He stands still. Every instinct screams at him - danger danger danger.
Junpei doesn’t dare break the silence first.
Itadori blinks slowly and looks away. “We should hurry,” he says at last, his voice strained - as if it were a struggle to respond. Itadori tosses the head to the side as he stands, his movements erratic, twitching in a way that looked like he had forgotten how to control his body. He leaves the room with uneven steps.
Junpei is still for a second more before exhaling. Relief floods through him.
(Why was he so afraid?)
He wills his legs to stop shaking and follows Itadori into the hallway.
Itadori brings his hand to his mouth and draws his tongue across his palm, tracing the rivulets of blood running down his arm.
There is a hunger in his eyes that Junpei has seen before, the same carnal desire that monsters have when they are hunting people, leaving nothing behind but bone-
Fear strangles Junpei, crushing his windpipe, stealing the air from his lungs. What are you?
The question goes unasked.
(Secrets are hidden for a reason.)
Itadori licks his lips and smiles at Junpei, smiles with jagged edges. “Ready?”
Itadori is his friend. Itadori will not hurt him.
(The words sound like prayer.)
Junpei only nods.
“Evolution has given these animals a gift,” The television is saying. A nature documentary happens to be on. “Carnivores have long, sharp teeth - perfect for ripping and tearing into flesh.”
Junpei thinks of Itadori’s teeth when he smiles. Each one longer than they should be. Each one as sharp as a knife.
He changes the channel.
Itadori disappears at night when the stars are missing from the sky.
It’s a dangerous thing to do. Curses are more powerful under the cover of darkness, feeding on nightmares and lost souls.
(Then again, curses have never bothered Itadori before. In fact, it’s the opposite; they gather around Itadori like moths drawn to a light, quivering in his presence. They look at him - the ones that have eyes - like he holds the answer to the secrets of the universe and die by his hand with a sound that can only be interpreted as happiness.
Itadori is always gentle in exorcisms. Curses crumble to ash in his hands, but first, he caresses them with the tenderness of a mother holding a newborn child, sends them to unknown realms with a murmured apology. They come in droves, to be killed by Itadori, in the same way that armies willingly march to their death for the honor of their king.)
When Itadori returns, just before sunrise, Junpei understands.
In the waning light of the fading moon, Junpei sees red on Itadori’s face and bloodlust in his eyes and knows what has happened. Itadori shifts and contorts and his skin stretches like it is a piece of clothing instead of being a part of his body, as if there is something inside of Itadori that is trying to escape.
There is blood and bits of meat that drip down his chin and the smell. Junpei would recognize the smell anywhere - it’s the same as the one in the schoolhouse, the smell of rot and decay and death.
What use is the curse barrier that the school employs? When demons can walk through so easily?
But - Itadori is his friend. His first friend.
Junpei almost murdered someone once, in a rush of anger and revenge. He’s seen how cruel people can be. Even now he can feel the pain of pale purple bruises that blossomed on his skin for weeks on end, worsened before they could even begin to heal.
Junpei is not a hero; he is not brave or self-sacrificing. There are some people who don’t deserve to be saved.
(Itadori is kinder than he will ever be. Itadori saves people without asking for anything in return.
It balances out, doesn’t it?)
If Junpei were asked whether or not he would trade his friend for the life of strangers, it would be an easy decision to make.
So when Junpei walks down the streets of Tokyo and spots posters of missing persons, when Junpei sees alleyways colored red and finds corpses with organs missing from their bodies, when Junpei hears the weeping of mothers and the questioning of children who cannot comprehend grief — he makes his choice. Junpei closes his eyes and tunes them out.
(It’s funny to think about. In the absence of angels, demons are the ones trying to save humanity.)