Chapter Text
Nanami had a bad feeling about this. But then again, he had bad feelings about most things. More often than not, his pessimism was justified.
In this particular instance, his pessimism stemmed from the unbearable stench that washed over him as he descended into the sewer, like an ocean wave crashing ashore more to escape the garbage strewn in it, and less as a natural response to the gravitational pull of the moon. It wasn’t exactly the smell of decay; it was more insidious than that. This was the smell of death.
Nanami sighed as he waded further into the darkness, out of sheer annoyance as well as in an attempt to blow the stench away from his face. He knew that this mission had the risk of being an especially dangerous one. The recent sightings of transfigured humans were severe enough to demand the attention of a Grade 1 sorcerer such as himself (but apparently not urgent enough to to be left to the great special grade Gojo Satoru). Nanami’s primary objective was to identify the curse responsible for the transfigurations, and to exorcise it if possible. With so little known about the curse and its technique, Nanami knew that there was heavy emphasis on the “if possible”.
What made Nanami particularly uneasy was the involvement of Tokyo Jujutsu High first years, namely Yuji Itadori, in this case that likely centered around a Grade 1 or unregistered special grade cursed spirit. Gojo had taken a liking to Itadori and had recently gotten into the habit of dragging him into exceptionally dangerous situations under the guise of “teaching moments”. Nanami was fairly confident that the only thing his idiotic friend was “teaching” the first year was how to charge head-first into crises without evaluating the risks. That seemed to be a skill that Itadori already possessed, given the fact that his entire jujutsu journey began as a result of him swallowing one of Sukuna’s fingers without hesitation.
The only thing that Nanami wanted to teach Itadori was the importance of work-life balance; he intended to get this job over with as quickly as possible. The sooner he could reconvene with Itadori, who was busy gathering intel from transfiguration eye-witnesses, the better.
The thought of the possibility of overtime caused Nanami’s impatience to bubble over. “Show yourself already!” he shouted into the sewer's void, hoping to lure the curse out of hiding.
“Oh good!” A sing-songy voice sprung back from the shadows. Nanami’s pulse quickened. He nervously tugged on the knot of his tie. He hadn’t expected a voice to answer him, let alone one that sounded like a child.
“I’m glad you aren’t Gojo Satoru. I wouldn’t have stood a chance; my head would’ve been knocked off like Jogo’s!” The curse, who had now unveiled itself, put its hands on its stomach and laughed, seemingly pleased at its own joke.
Nanami was less concerned with who “Jogo” was, and more concerned with the fact that a humanoid curse capable of speech stood before him. In terms of stature and intelligence, the curse could easily pass as human (Nanami feared that this curse was smarter than Itadori). However, the glaring superficial difference between this curse and humans was the way in which the curse appeared to have been sewn together. Stitches looped around its arms and neck; they cut through its face at harsh angles, giving it the appearance of glass that had been dropped and haphazardly glued back together. Nanami noticed that the curse also had mismatched eye colors, the left one a blue so deep and intense that it reminded him of Gojo’s eyes. It made him uneasy.
“You seem shocked.” The curse was still talking. It was also approaching him at a leisurely pace, as if Nanami was just an old friend popping by for a visit, as opposed to the dangerous exorcist he was mentally hyping himself up to be. “Are the curses that you normally deal with at Jujutsu High not capable of speech? I sure hope you can speak, or else this isn’t going to be any fun.”
Get ahold of yourself, Kento. Nanami shook his head, dispersing the shock that had begun to cloud his mind, and immediately reached for the hilt of his blunt axe. He felt his cursed energy increase significantly, hopefully intimidating the curse. The awe-struck smile creeping across the curse’s face suggested that the scare tactic hadn’t worked, but at least it was taking him somewhat seriously now. “This isn’t going to be fun, because for me, this is just work,” Nanami retorted. “Now let’s get this over with.” He unsheathed his axe and lunged at the curse mid-sentence, hoping to catch it off guard. But the curse was already one step ahead of him; it leaped backwards with alarming speed and ease. And it was laughing again. It was really starting to piss off Nanami how much the curse was enjoying itself.
“You’re strong! A sorcerer like you would be a great addition to my experiments.” The curse launched itself at him head-first, reaching for him with its patchwork hands...and did its arms get longer? The curse’s body was some distance away but its hands nearly swiped Nanami’s face. Nanami ducked under one arm and swung at the other, activating his 7:3 technique just in time.
“That’s exactly why I’m here. Your little science project needs to come to an end.” Nanami targeted the curse’s left arm and before the curse could recoil, its arm was sliced nearly in two, its forearm hanging on to its elbow by just one sinewy tendon.
Nanami watched in disgust as the curse froze and stared wonderingly at its own nearly severed limb. “I thought I blocked it…?” The curse murmured to itself as it whipped its dangling forearm around like a spinning top. Then, as quickly as its arm had been slashed, the tissue that had previously surrounded the gaping wound reformed, rejoining hand to elbow. Was this a reversed healing technique? An iteration of its transfiguration power? Nanami cursed himself for not using the curse’s brief lapse in focus to damage it further.
“Much better.” The curse stretched the fingers on its newly reconnected hand. “My little ‘science project’ doesn’t just apply to my transfigured humans; I can manipulate my own body as well. I’m not healing, I’m merely changing the shape of my soul.”
“The shape of your soul? You’re sounding less like a scientist and more like a conspiracy theorist.” Nanami wasn’t in the mood to talk philosophy with this cursed spirit. He glanced at his watch. Overtime was quickly approaching.
“It’s true.” A taunting smile spread across the curse’s face as it opened the palm of its other hand to reveal what appeared to be three small rocks. Upon closer examination, Nanami realized that they were transfigured humans, shriveled up and warped beyond recognition. Nanami shuddered and took a step back, nauseated. “I know that you’ve seen enough of my soul-transfiguring experiments to know that I’m not bluffing.” The curse leaned its head back and popped the human shells into its mouth. It licked its lips and gave Nanami a wink. It seemed to get a rise out of putting Nanami’s nerves on edge. “The more souls I touch, the more I understand about the human condition.”
Nanami swallowed thickly. “You lack understanding of basic human morality and decency.”
The curse raised an eyebrow and put one hand on its hip. Nanami almost laughed; he had to admit, this humanoid curse was remarkably expressive. He found himself wondering what other “experiments” it had conducted to learn how to act this way. Or were these human characteristics innate to the curse?
“Oh, don’t be so hypocritical. How is what I’m doing any different from what you humans do everyday? Manipulating the spaces and faces around you in order to satisfy your own curiosity. We’re the same.”
Despite himself, Nanami found himself agreeing with the curse. Its words struck a chord with him. This realization, that humankind persevered because humankind was cruel, was the reason why Nanami had left his office job and was circuitously sucked back into the jujutsu world.
His face must have betrayed him, because the curse was smiling. It was leading this dance with words, and it knew it.
Nanami attempted to counter the curse’s statement, but he was interrupted. “Exactly.” The curse crossed its arms over its chest and gave Nanami a smug smile. “I’m so in tune with the human condition because I was born from the hatred the humans have for one another. I reflect all of the negative emotions that humans use to manipulate each other. Perhaps that’s why I bother you so much.”
Nanami was well aware that sharing details about one’s cursed technique with an opponent was a method used to increase the strength of that technique, but Nanami didn’t sense any increase in cursed energy from the spirit. Nor did he sense the same sinister foreboding that he felt when he entered the sewer. Was this cursed spirit truly just interested in parrying words?
“Perhaps,” Nanami mocked the curse’s feigning intellectualism, “you should reflect the brighter aspects of humanity. Mirrors aren’t selective.”
“If I only reflected light, the world would be blinded. You’re only irritated because you don’t like what you see. Death is a mirror for humans.”
“What does a mirror look at?”
The sorcerer and the curse uttered the famous Dune quote simultaneously. Even more unsettling than the fact that their opposing mindsets had reached for the same six words was the silence that followed, as each of them tried to recompose themselves. The curse was at a loss for words for the first time in their exchange. Nanami nearly had to pick his jaw off of the floor.
The sorcerer was the first to speak. “You’ve read Dune?! Or did you just regurgitate that quote from your extensive research on humankind?”
The curse’s expression shifted from shocked to excited. “Of course I’ve read Dune ! I love science fiction; it’s a classic! I actually just reread it recently. Gotta be prepared for the movie adaptation that’s coming out next month.” The curse clapped its hands together in delight; it was genuinely enjoying discussing literature with him.
Nanami found himself more shocked than he had been just a minute ago. “I also love science fiction,” he murmured. He was beginning to feel unsettled by how much he had in common with this cursed spirit, and by how much more he wanted to know about it.
“Nanami Kento,” the curse directed Nanami’s attention back up to its patchwork face. Nanami wondered how it knew his name, before realizing that it was probably keeping very close tabs on Jujutsu High. “I’m not interested in fighting you anymore. You were right; it wasn’t very fun. I’m much more enjoying talking with you.” The curse brushed its hair off of one shoulder as it extended a hand towards Nanami, initiating a handshake. “I’m Mahito. I think we can learn a lot from each other.”
Luckily, Nanami was too shocked to react, and Mahito recoiled his hand before Nanami could even think about reaching out to shake it. “Oh wait!” Mahito facepalmed in a genuine realization that he almost transfigured his new friend. “I can’t shake your hand. Not if you want to see my book collection. I’m so sorry.”
So the curse was serious about no longer wanting to engage in a physical fight. Nanami chuckled at Mahito’s almost disastrous attempt to emulate human connection. He felt himself relax in spite of his current location and company.
“Mahito,” he repeated the curse’s name, wondering if it was one given to him or one he chose himself, “you have a whole book collection?”
“Oh yeah. Curses don’t sleep, you know. I have a lot of free time down here. So I read as much as I can. To be honest, I would read during the daytime as well, if I didn’t have, you know, other things to attend to.”
Abandoning the outside world to escape into the comfort of a good book; now that was a feeling that Nanami could resonate with.
“Mahito, I’ll take you up on your offer. I’m simply too curious. You’re right, we could learn a lot from each other.” Nanami couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. He was trying to convince himself that he was disengaging in this fight purely for the opportunity to gain intel on this unregistered special grade. He suspected that the curse was aware as much as he was that Nanami’s main motive was pure, unadulterated curiosity.
“But there’s one condition.” Nanami quickly unsheathed his axe, cursed energy blooming around him. Mahito, startled, took a step back. Good, Nanami thought to himself. Maybe I can have it both ways; indulge in my curiosity and have the upper hand here . “No use of cursed techniques. You make any move on me and it’s game over for you.” Nanami paused. “And then I’d take your copy of Dune because I also want a refresher before the movie.”
Mahito bowed his head and raised his hands in a gesture of agreement. “Understood.” Nanami released the grip on his axe. “No cursed techniques, I promise. I know you’re no Gojo Satoru, but from what I just saw, a fight with you wouldn’t be easy.” Mahito looked up. “Even if I wanted to, I have a feeling that I’m not smart enough to defeat you yet, jujutsu sorcerer.”
Nanami found Mahito’s use of the word “smart” instead of “strong” interesting. “So we have an understanding then.” Nanami put his hands in his pockets and shuffled his feet. “Where do you get all of these books from? Is there an underground cursed spirit library that I’m unaware of?”
Mahito laughed at Nanami’s quip. “Let me show you how the other half lives.” Mahito waved a hand, beckoning Nanami to follow him.
Nanami’s legs betrayed his sense of jujutsushi duty. He found himself walking towards Mahito, his own curiosity overriding any sense of logic and reason left in his mind. He allowed the curse to lead him further and further from the way in which he came.
It was a decision that would change the trajectory of the jujutsu world forever.