Archive of Our Own

January 3, Sendai City, Miyagi Prefecture

Jujutsu Tech sorcerers' group had finally managed to locate Kenjaku in one of the culling game boundaries, coincidentally being Itadori's hometown, and it was high time for their inevitable confrontation. 

Cameras on each one of their bodies provided live streaming of the conditions around them to Tsukumo and Chōso, who, while on bodyguard duty for Tengen, communicated through earpieces much like the one Mechamaru used during the fiasco in Shibuya. Both provided feedback, instructions and fighting advice; the four students were also able to talk with each other and coordinate accordingly. Now, they're finally headed out for attack. 

Fushiguro and Itadori moved separately from Maki and Okkotsu, allowing them to scout the whole area properly as they ploughed forward into the depths of the boundary, eerily void of non-sorcerers, empty buildings looming ominously, searching for the damned brains behind the wicked game they were unceremoniously thrust into.

The atmosphere in the formerly lively city was  crushing , deadly; it's unbelievable how the hushed silence could be so loud, clanging, echoing endlessly throughout Fushiguro's mind. As he followed Itadori, suddenly, his instincts erupted, warning bells tolling, clamouring, screaming for him to reach and pull Itadori  back , when the other boy's cursed energy spiked explosively, uncontrolled emotions fuelling the unnaturally concentrated surge of power. Ah, there he is - Geto Suguru, no,  Kenjaku , standing carelessly in the middle of the road of an unknown street in an unknown neighbourhood. Itadori's eyes seared scarlet with the intent  to kill, kill, kill and destroy , all his attention honed onto the man. 

Divine Dog Kon abruptly howled to the sky, skidded to a stop a distance away from the two and began growling viciously, the guttural sound strangely accentuating the silence. Megumi felt the baseless dread pooling in his gut, anxiety pouring into his soul, seeping into his blood, as he focused on Kenjaku's sneer -  can a sneer look gentle?  - feeling time slow down, seconds trickling into languid eternities, as Itadori launched to attack the man with his fists. 

"Itadori, wait!" At the same time, he activated his earpieces, allowing the others to listen to whatever was happening here. “Senpai, we found him.” An affirmative grunt from Chōso and a light tsk from Maki confirmed audio was working correctly.  Back to business on hand.  

Itadori did not heed his call at all, opting to rush faster -  hurtling carelessly, mouth wide open in a wordless snarl  - more determined than ever to beat the daylights out of this abominable monster. Fushiguro tried to calm his nerves, he believes the other can do it, nearer, faster, just a little bit more,  gods, please, let it hit...!  

-

"Yūji, is this any way to greet your mother?"

-

Huh?

The silence exploded into white noise, unidentifiable static, warning bells in Fushiguro's mind now wailing sirens. 

-

Itadori  stumbled , cursed energy entirely dissipated, eyes wide with shock. Unable to properly regain his footing in the face of Kenjaku, he landed face-first at the curse's feet, letting out a winded gasp. Fushiguro winced, he could  feel  the asphalt and tar scraping Itadori's tender skin, leaving scratches all over his hands.

"Aw, poor baby... Here, here, let mummy kiss the pain away." Kenjaku kneeled, cooing, making a move to hold Itadori's wrists. Without missing a beat, Itadori sprang up, slapping his long fingers away and pushing him away as hard as he could. 

"What the hell... You're not my mother, you bastard!" Itadori fell a few steps back, now standing cautiously between Fushiguro and Kenjaku. His earlier shock had been replaced with a bubbling fury, eyebrows knitted, mouth set in a tough line. (Fushiguro felt a pang of  need , to smooth the creases out -  no, it's not the time to be thinking about that. ) 

“Itadori Yūji, how could you forget about me? Haven’t you dreamt of your parents these past weeks? You can’t even remember your own mother? I’m hurt…” Kenjaku adopted an exaggerated pout, twisting Geto’s handsome futures into a hideous imitation of the pleading face emoji. He extended his arms, beckoning for Yūji. 

Fushiguro couldn’t stand the noise any longer.

“Stop messing with Itadori, you asshole.” He all but snarled. “For starters, you’re a nasty cursed  brain . Second, you are in Geto Suguru’s body and he’s male if you haven’t noticed.” Fushiguro ignored the way Itadori’s fingers are grasping at the frayed hems of his hoodie, helpless, and the trembling of his shoulders. He did notice Itadori looking agitated every time he woke up recently, but Fushiguro didn’t feel the need to pry into it. The other boy would have had told him if his dreams or Sukuna were bothering him terribly.  He really should have investigated - he needed to know everything about Itadori.

“Exactly my points, Fushiguro Megumi.” Kenjaku chuckled as if Fushiguro had just cracked a joke only the curse could understand. “It’s because I am a brain, a curse at that,” - as Kenjaku spoke, his hands undid the stitches holding his head together – “and it’s Geto boy’s body I’m inhabiting now.”

“So?” 

“Oh dear, have jujutsu sorcerers gotten really dumb or I haven’t been clear enough?” Kenjaku’s mockingly disappointed tone caused both first-year students to bristle, affronted.

Out of the blue, Chōso’s gravelly voice resounded from his headpiece. “He might be telling the truth.”

“Huh?”

“Kenjaku is, unfortunately, my father, in a sense of the word, but during the time he was inhabiting the body of the man known as Kamo Noritoshi. He had laid waste to the Kamo household, and by extension also the jujutsu world. That was the Meiji era. Now we’re seeing him in Geto’s body, who only recently passed away. He may have been jumping from corpse to corpse during these 100 years or more he’s lived. It’s just that whatever form he takes probably has those stitches on their head.” A sharp intake of breath. 

Fushiguro kept his eyes on Itadori. The other boy’s face was pale, bloodless. It was also contorted into an expression Fushiguro hated ( loved ) to see; despair. Chōso’s words had evidently struck him.

Chōso continued, oblivious. “It’s also perfectly feasible to assume that cursed brain could, and have, inhabited female bodies as well. To be honest, if this is true, it explains a lot of Yūji’s physical and mental capabilities, and affinity to curses…”

Before he could continue any more, Kenjaku clapped his hands. His skull was split open, a grinning brain nestled cosily, resembling a can of freshly opened worms; Fushiguro felt like vomiting. Spilling over the sides, meaty noodles wriggling around, each with a mouth of their own… Disgusting, though he knows that’s not exactly how a brain is. He’d  still  squish it to oblivion though. 

Just as Fushiguro’s mind began to wander ( was this a sign of exhaustion? he’s going crazy, really ), even as Geto Suguru’s face remains warped in a malicious grin, the brain opened its maw and began to speak, in a voice neither male nor female. “Such a clever boy, Chōso. Good for you to have figured it out! Why not I re-introduce myself!” The mouth on the brain then stretched into a broad leer, Geto’s body shifted to face Fushiguro as well, instead of just Itadori, and dropped into a fake polite bow, just inclined enough to-  to be feminine?

“Mother to Itadori Yūji, wife to Itadori Jin, my name is Kaori. Pleased to make your acquaintance, I hope you’ll take care of me and my son!” 

-

The noise had disappeared.

 Fushiguro’s mind is clear now; he can think properly.

 And the only thing on his mind now is Itadori.

  Shit, Itadori will not be taking this well.

-

“Yūji, do you know where you are now? Take a look around, it’s so long since I’ve been here too, I’ve really missed it…” Fushiguro snapped out of his thoughts, registering Kenjaku’s words. They were somewhere familiar to Itadori? A neighbourhood in Sendai… That can only mean…!

In front of him, Itadori made a soft choking noise and began to back away slowly from Kenjaku. One of his hands came up to slap over his mouth, the other reaching wildly behind him; it seems he didn’t want, neither had the courage, to turn his back onto Kenjaku, but he needed,  he needed  Fushiguro,  he needed Fushiguro to hold him, ground him, pull him back.  

( Fushiguro did nothing to squash the dark satisfaction blooming in his chest; Itadori’s subconsciously dependent on Fushiguro now. That’s a positive side of the whole situation then.)

“Fushiguro… It’s my house… It’s my house!” The weathered plaque engraved with the word “Itadori” fixed onto the postal box of the house directly opposite them, standing sinister behind Kenjaku, gleamed weakly in the sunset, confirmed Itadori’s shaky declaration.

“It’s really… really my house…” Itadori’s eyes were glassy and unfocused. “Kenjaku, really... Kenjaku really is my mother?”

Tsukumo’s urgent voice crackled through the earpiece. “Itadori, take a deep breath. Try to remember. Did your mother have stitches on her forehead?” 

Itadori shook his head, all the while still grabbing at Fushiguro desperately. “I… I don’t remember my parents at all… I only grew up with my grandfather, he did try to tell me something about them just as he was about to die, but…” His voice tapered off weakly.

“What about your dreams?” Fushiguro probed experimentally as he released Kon’s technique, letting the dog dissolve into the shadows. It was getting a bit aggressive; Fushiguro also needed to conserve his cursed energy.

“To be honest, whenever I wake up, I can’t recall anything. Only vague shadows: but every time, every single time, I feel weird… So many emotions, Fushiguro, I don’t know...!”

Kenjaku didn’t take the two talking to themselves very kindly. “Even after such a joyful reunion my own son is ignoring me. Jin, darling, you should really take a look at your boy!” He then closed his head, hiding the brain, meticulously stitching it shut. “Even though you’ve brought such a good-looking, strong friend home too,” Kenjaku smirked at Fushiguro, whose body froze at the sudden attention towards him.  (Something primal within his chest purrs at the compliment.)

“Why not we go inside and see the truth for ourselves?”

The last thing Fushiguro saw was Itadori’s panicked face before he  fell.

-

When he opened his eyes again ( when had he closed them though?),  Fushiguro was inside the house, right at the  genkan  where a dusty rotary phone sat atop a chest of drawers, pale sunlight streaming in from the window above it. But… there was something  off  about the place. Before long, however, he realized,  this isn’t the real world. It’s a pseudo-domain…?!

From beyond the darkness of the hallway, Kenjaku called. “Fushiguro Megumi, come on in, make yourself at home! Yūji and I are in the living room!” Fushiguro finally noticed he was standing alone. With an annoyed “tch,” he made his way – with his shoes on – to the only illuminated room in the house. Nothing could have ever prepared him for what he would witness then.

Kenjaku, in Geto Suguru’s body, was lounging on a bright yellow sofa in the centre of the room. Itadori-  Itadori was !!!  Sitting in his lap !!! The tips of the boy’s hair were grazing the other man’s chin, head lolling onto his chest as Itadori slept, nuzzling into Kenjaku’s warm embrace, scarred face peaceful for once in a long time. Kenjaku was humming softly, stroking the boy’s back, lulling him into a deeper slumber.

Fushiguro ignited.

 “What the fuck?!”

  Pull him away, only I can touch him like that, pull him back!!

“No, no, Fushiguro, it’s not proper to curse in front of children. Jin always said babies tend to remember more than what we expect.” The words of admonishment from the curse only served to send blood rushing to Fushiguro’s head, his whole body set ablaze in anger. He was trembling from the whole weight of his fury.  How dare this curse…!

“Itadori. Is not. A baby. You freak.” Fushiguro enunciated slowly, making sure to coat his words with poisonous rage. Unfortunately, Kenjaku was unfazed. In fact, as he patted Itadori ( like a mother comforting her child)  with his left hand, the curse beckoned for Fushiguro to sit on the couch beside him. “Fushiguro, boy, you’re not seeing this clearly yet. Come here, there’s a surprise for you.”

Gritting his teeth, Fushiguro took reluctant steps from the doorway and gingerly took a seat. The couch was soft and plush, sinking to accommodate his weight. He kept his eyes trained unto Itadori and Kenjaku however, his nerves strumming, body on high alert. Ah, he couldn’t hear anything from the earpieces. This… pseudo-domain must be blocking signals, even cursed energy. The boy tried flexing his cursed energy and his shadows, to no avail.

Kenjaku watched amusedly. “It’s useless, Fushiguro. You, I, nobody can use cursed energy in this space.”

“Huh?”  Second time already.

“This is neither a domain nor a barrier. This is simply a memory, a recording carved onto Yūji’s soul.” Kenjaku explained matter-of-factly. Fushiguro couldn’t believe his ears. For all the years he’d been in the jujutsu world, this is the first time he’s ever heard of sorcerers using memories like this. And to top it off, it’s Itadori’s memory.  Is this a cursed technique?

As though he had read his mind, Kenjaku continued. “This is also not a cursed technique, and there’s not a single drop of cursed energy expended onto this space. Time doesn’t pass too on the outside. To be perfectly honest, in my hundred years of age, I really can count on my two hands the number of times I’ve forced another person to expand their memory like this, much less my own.” 

“Forced? You’ve forced Itadori to do… this? Why? Will it hurt him in any way?” Fushiguro bombarded the other with questions, wishing nothing less than to tear Kenjaku from limb to limb. 

“Fushiguro, you’re really a tough one. Don’t worry, boy, it’s all for my dearest child too. Did you know he’s the last of ten siblings but has lived all his life as a single child?” Kenjaku laughed mirthfully. “Too bad his brothers and sisters are all curses, doomed to be incomplete cursed foetuses infinitely. Ah, but there’s Chōso.” Kenjaku then adopted a thoughtful smile.

Fushiguro impatiently cut off his words. “So, what are we here for? If it’s just for you to ramble on and touch Itadori so carelessly, you should let us leave.”

“Tut tut, boy, it doesn’t work that way. I told you there was a surprise, right? To see it, we’ll have to wait until Yūji wakes up. We’ll be watching his memory with him! Fun, right? Like going to the movies about yourself! And we can’t leave until he deems it enough.” Kenjaku leaned towards Fushiguro in a conspiratorial manner, eyes twinkling cruelly. “By the way, do you know why Yūji doesn’t remember his parents at all? Other than the fact he did grow up with his grandfather without us?”

Fushiguro shook his head, mute. He had his theories, but…

“It’s because he’s locked them away himself! Every, single, memory with Itadori Jin and Itadori Kaori, has been carefully sealed to the innermost depths of his soul, and he doesn’t even know it. Even the great Ryōmen Sukuna, who had taken residence in this body, and has free access to the entirety of Itadori Yūji, cannot discern it, might have not even realized its existence.”

His theory was correct. Fushiguro bit his lower lip. There’s still so  much more  of Itadori he couldn’t grasp if he didn’t get stronger, more knowledgeable. He needs to be faster too before the other could slip away again.  He needs to capture Itadori, tame him, keep him under. 

Just then Itadori stirred, a small whine escaping him. Fushiguro snapped to attention, eyes worriedly roaming over the other’s figure. Kenjaku also paused his movements, allowing the boy to awaken naturally. Itadori’s groggy eyes opened a fraction, before closing again, as he clutched at Kenjaku’s kimono folds. It was an adorable act, something Fushiguro used to see on late mornings after he and Kugisaki spent the night in Itadori’s room watching movies or chatting.

Fushiguro missed the times when Itadori was pure, a blinding ray of melty, warm sunshine. 

 Itadori now is a cold sunset, a lonely dawn, always  just  almost out-of-reach. His eyes were a deep void of guilt, threatening to drown him and those looking into them in despair and blame. He couldn't even sleep properly these days, always haunted by visions of Shibuya, visions of Gojo-sensei, of Kugisaki and Nanami.

Really, finally a moment of reprieve and peace for Itadori… Unfortunately, it had to be in this kind of situation. Fushiguro silently vowed to arrange a space for Itadori to hide from the world, be it on the Zen’in estate, somewhere in the countryside, a silent hideout in a Soho,  maybe even in his shadow realm … As long he can keep him close, only for himself.

 “Fushi…guro?” Itadori finally roused himself fully, taking some time to look around blearily. As he came to his senses, Itadori froze, body stiffening. “Kenjaku? How… wait, this is… the living room?!” He made an attempt to escape Kenjaku’s hug, ultimately failing, the curse’s arms wound tight around him. Droplets of sweat rolled down his face, his eyes blown, pupils dilated in  fear , anxiety roiling in waves off him. “Fushiguro, what’s happening?” There was no trace of the previous peace at all, only paranoia etched on his face.

Fushiguro made to grasp his hands. “Itadori, calm down! I’m not sure what’s happening as well, but nothing’s going to happen here. It’s your memory.” His explanation only seemed to work Itadori up further. “My memory? It’s not enough Sukuna gets to rifle through my mind all the time, now it’s bared to you, even... even Kenjaku?!” The boy’s voice rose in pitch, ending in a shuddery wail. 

Suddenly light pattering sounds coming from the doorway of the living room disrupted Itadori’s anguish. Fushiguro heard Kenjaku whispering enthusiastically, “Oh, it’s started,” and felt the curse leaning back into the couch. “Pay attention, boys, this’ll be an experience of a lifetime! If only I had some popcorn…”

Fushiguro turned his head to face the direction of the pattering – they sounded like tiny, tiny footsteps – the same time Itadori did, and both sucked in a deep breath at the sight awaiting them.

In the doorway, just toddling around, was – a baby Itadori Yūji.

-

How many times must Fushiguro Megumi be surprised today?  The universe seemed determined to set a new record for him today,  he mused, as he gaped at the energetic bundle that was a perfect tiny version of the teenager whose hands he was holding,  whose hands were shaking in fright.  The child didn’t seem able to see them; perfectly logical, this is a mere memory after all.

“Mummy!” The child called out to nobody, looking over his shoulders, chubby hands grabbing at his onesie. “Daddy! Come on, play with Yūji! It’s time to play!”

Kenjaku snorted affectionately. “Ah, he really was a clingy baby…” He cooed again, nestling his head into the crook of Itadori’s neck. “Jin, the poor soul, he really couldn’t keep up at times.”

A low growl ripped from Fushiguro’s throat, as he glared intensely at Kenjaku. Itadori didn’t notice, eyes still trained apprehensively on mini-him. There was no reason for that fucking curse to be so touchy with Itadori, especially in Geto Suguru’s body. Seeing another male so… intimate with Itadori is making him see red.

Before he could give in to his itch and attempt to rip off the limbs of the parasitic curse’s vessel, more sounds of footsteps, heavier, probably adults’, interrupted him. He turned, only to have his jaw drop again. 

A tall, bespectacled man with fluffy pink hair exactly the same shade as Itadori’s bore down unto the tiny boy. “Ooh, daddy’s here to bite you!” He then faked a roar, swiping with clenched fists, imitating a tiger chasing its prey. Mini-Itadori squealed in delight and scampered away, coming to a skidding halt in front of the couch where the three outsiders sat unseen. Up this close, Fushiguro saw the child was at most 3 years old, baby fat clinging heavily to his cheeks, round eyes sparkling with childish mirth.

“There, there, Yūji, be careful! Jin, darling, really, you’re being awfully silly today.” This time it was a dark-haired woman – stitches on her forehead! – talking, gently reprimanding her husband.  So, these are Itadori Jin and Kaori… Itadori’s parents, huh?  Fushiguro could see the resemblance; Itadori Yūji had his mother’s round eyes, high cheekbones and that black undercut of his hair, while his upturned mouth and nose was identical to his father’s. Not to mention that mop of pink on top of his head.

Kenjaku perked up. “Hey, that’s me!” He chirruped conversationally, ignoring both Fushiguro and Itadori’s slight cringing. “You’ve got to know, I borrowed lovely Kaori’s body after she died in a car crash on the way to the doctors for a pregnancy examination. It was sad, she actually couldn’t get pregnant. After I occupied her body, however… that’s a whole different situation. I rearranged her insides, repaired some stuff here and there, made love with Jin… and voila! A baby is born!” He smirked.

Itadori seemed like he’ll vomit anytime soon upon hearing those words. Fushiguro didn’t blame him, he felt the same.  So nonchalantly speaking… 

Itadori’s voice cracked. “So… you’re really my mother… and I have cursed spirit siblings. That doesn’t really make me human, does it?”

Kenjaku had the audacity to look surprised as he pondered the question.
“A boy borne of a cursed corpse and a human, specially designed to be the vessel of the King of Curses… You’ve killed so many humans too…”

Fushiguro could see the world falling apart around Itadori.

“Ah, Yūji, sweetheart, no, you never were one after all.”
You’ve always been a curse.
An existence blighting the world.
You should never have been born.

-

Time passed and the memories of Itadori Yūji’s childhood flit by like scenes in a movie; a biographical documentary, the type that Fushiguro likes to watch, the ones where Kugisaki and Itadori end up sprawling on the floor, deeply asleep. 

Itadori was quietly watching too, but his eyes were anything but focused. They were murky, splintered. Kenjaku keeps on humming and petting the boy, whispering sweet lullabies and motherly promises of never leaving again, to stay beside  her son  forever and after.

Fushiguro didn’t tire of watching the Itadori family’s life – in fact, he liked it. The feeling of warmth and comfort, the crying tantrums the tiny child threw, peals of laughter punctuating meals, the shouting matches between Itadori’s grandfather and the TV; everything felt homely. But he couldn’t shake off the feeling that this peace is impermanent, especially as Itadori grew up and began to go to school.

-

Mini-Itadori was now 7 years old, in his second year of elementary school. Even at this age, Itadori's unnatural strength and physical abilities had manifested, without requiring any proper training. He scurried around enthusiastically, helping his teachers with their books, carrying boxes of them without breaking a sweat.

His talent in sport, especially in track-and-field, was also apparent. He could sprint laps ( with his short, pudgy legs ) and jump across bars ( is he a kangaroo, goddamnit ) as naturally as breathing. And just like present-time Itadori, he was a charming boy, always with a joyful, innocent smile on his face. 

Cute.  Yet the fact Itadori was lesser than human remains.
Fushiguro prayed, hoping his fears, for once, would remain fears. But when has anything went the way he wanted?

One day Mini-Itadori returned home late, dusk almost setting over the horizon. His clothes were torn, dust all over his body, leaves and broken twigs in his hair - the boy seemed to have been tumbling in the forested patch of the local park.

"Mummy, mummy, I found a tiny monster! A round, blobby monster! In the park!" The child was bouncing on his heels, excited and bubbly. Kaori smiled, turning away from the kitchen counter and reached down to hug him. "Oh? What was it like, baby?"

"The eyes! Googly eyes! It chased me in the forest, mummy, see, I fell down lots, but it was fun! But I just left it and ran home, because Yūji runs fast!" 

Kaori's smile took on a tinge of satisfaction and pride. "Can it talk? Did it say anything to you?" Kenjaku by Fushiguro's side too seemed entertained, no doubt reliving his own memories while hugging Itadori tighter. Mini-Itadori pouted. "It was a meanie, mummy, it kept telling me to go die... also giggled endlessly, it was creepy!" Kaori huffed amusedly.

“Yūji, honey, that’s what we call a curse.”
“Curse?”
 “Uh-huh, you’ll see more in the future! Some would try making friends with you too.”
“Friends? With Yūji? But I have friends at school. I don’t want friends who tell me to die?”
“Not all curses want to kill you, sweetie.”

 Kaori raised her head, dark eyes meeting Jin’s furious, disappointed ones.
“Some just want you.”  

Suddenly for Fushiguro, everything turned dark again.

-

When he opened his eyes again, Fushiguro was in the exact same spot he was before entering the memory realm, outside the gates of the Itadori house. It threw him off-guard, disorienting him, but at least Itadori was right beside him. 

Oh, Itadori. Have they finished watching all his memories?

 Kenjaku turned an unreadable gaze upon them. “Yūji, that was a little too early. You didn’t even reach the best part yet.” Itadori began to retch violently, falling to his knees. Chōso’s concerned voice came through Fushiguro’s earpiece, startling him. “What happened? What’s wrong with Yūji?” Seems like time really didn’t pass outside. 

“Okkotsu-senpai, Maki-senpai, Itadori and I have to retreat. We should regroup.” He made a split-second decision, desiring distance between them and Kenjaku. Especially Itadori; Fushiguro doesn’t think being nearer to his biological  (is that even the correct term?) mother any longer would have a good effect on his already unstable emotions.

“He managed to kick us out of his memories before locking them down again… Impressive, sweetie, impressive. That’s the will of Sukuna’s vessel. But what a shame. It was so near to  that  event! Just a little more, just a bit more, you’d be able to see how much of a curse Itadori Yūji is.” Kenjaku sneered, marring Geto’s gentle features with malice. 

“Even before you were born, people died because of you, Yūji. And you think you have a place among humans?”
You’ve killed curses, you’ve killed humans.
So, which one are you?

“…I’m a curse…,” whispered Itadori as he heaved on the ground, nothing left for him to vomit. Fushiguro didn’t wait any longer – he pulled forcefully on Itadori’s hood. “Up, up! Itadori, we need to get away. Itadori!” When the other boy didn’t respond and continued to lie down, trying to curl into himself, Fushiguro made another decision.

He willed his shadows to surge and wrap around Itadori, viscous black sticking to his skin. “I’m sorry, Itadori, but you’ll have to stay down there for a while! Nue!” The shadows swallowed Itadori whole as Nue’s talons seized his shoulders in preparation for flight. A mess of voices – he could hear Maki swearing - echoed from his earpiece; Fushiguro chose to switch it off. Kenjaku seemed to have no intent on assaulting them, but in this state, they weren’t in any shape for attack nor defence anymore. As a precaution, they still needed to escape, as far away as they can. Who knows what other sinister plans the brain had up his sleeves?

Kenjaku didn’t do anything to stop them, smiling –  almost  - gently all the while. “Oh, you’re going so soon, Fushiguro Megumi? Please take care of my son then, he seems to be…  unwell .” A slight pause, a shadow of a wicked grin flitting over his face. “When he wakes up later, please do tell him his mother’s waiting for him to come home!” Kenjaku waves, as though sending a child off to school.

Fushiguro ignored him, refusing to acknowledge the curse’s words. Nue took off into the sky, carrying him over Sendai. Now he notices, it really is Sugisawa, the place he met Itadori for the first time. He could see Itadori’s high school ( patched up nicely, eh ) to his right. Fushiguro pursed his lips, contemplating as he scanned the ground for signs of their two seniors.

There. He spotted, rather,  sensed , Okkotsu-senpai’s uncontrollable amount of cursed energy. “Nue, bring me down.” Landing behind them would just cause a surprise, and a surprised Maki usually ends up with someone being speared to death, so Fushiguro announced his presence with a loud “Senpai!” and alighted a hundred metres away from them, dissolving Nue with a grateful pat on its head.

“Oi, where’s Itadori? And what was that, switching off comms so abruptly, huh?!” Maki growled, poking at Fushiguro with her  naginata . Okkotsu peered over her shoulder, sighing in relief to see his junior in one piece, safe and sound. “We were worried out of our minds!”

 “He’s in my shadows. We’ve met Kenjaku, a lot happened, now I’ve deemed Itadori not suitable for battle. We need to return to the school, senpai.” As he spoke, Fushiguro probed into his shadows. Itadori was  not  fine. He was breathing erratically, shivering as he huddled in a corner of the murky shadow space Fushiguro created in the spur of the moment just now. It was the first time he tried putting a human in, but… considering the circumstances, it was a successful attempt.

(The rationally dark part of his mind filed the information away. He hopes he never has to do this again, but if one day…)

“Why?”
“We have new information on Kenjaku, and I need to ask Tengen about it.”
“New information?”
“Itadori Yūji, Ryōmen Sukuna’s vessel, is Kenjaku’s son.”
“Huh?!”

Don’t worry, Itadori, if truly you’re not human, even if you are a curse, I’ll tame you and keep you by my side, inside me, safe and sound. 
I’ll protect you.