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Chapter Text

Ichigo felt deserved some downtime after his latest bout saving the world. Unfortunately, the world decided that relax and Ichigo did not belong in the same sentence.

He’d taken some time to travel to Tokyo. He was walking down the street and deciding what the best place to grab a snack would be when he spotted three rather abnormal looking teenagers. The three looked to be a year or two younger than him and were clad in dark uniforms. One had bright pink hair with odd markings underneath his eyes. He was engaged in a very animated argument with a girl with short auburn hair. The girl seemed to be winning the argument. The final teen had spiky black hair and appeared to be brooding beside the other two, scrolling on his phone. The kid’s demeanor reminded him a bit of Hitsugaya.

Ichigo would’ve thought they were just school buddies, but the way they acted was reminiscent of they way Renji and his other soul reaper friends acted when they posed as students at Karakura.  

None of his business though. He averted his eyes and kept walking.

“I can’t believe Gojo-sensei keeps sending us on these dumb missions. So what if people’s security cameras keep shorting out. Get a new system! Boom! Problem solved.”

“Itadori don’t be dense, you do remember our last mission, right?” the dark-haired kid responded to the pink-haired kids grumbling. These kids were tech whizzes then? Whatever.

Ichigo moved to walk past the kids toward a tasty looking noodle shop.

“Yeah. I see what you’re saying,” Pinky responded suddenly sounding serious. “But just because that last curse killed people after messing with their automatic doors doesn’t mean every tech issue in Tokyo is suddenly going to lead us to a finger.”

That gave him a pause, what the fuck were these kids talking about.

“A dozen cameras shorting out at the exact same time all across the city can’t be a coincidence. The cameras weren’t guarding places with anything worth stealing so it’s not likely a normal human is involved,” the deep voice supplied. “And could you two idiots keep it down.”

Ichigo stopped in his tracks and turned to the kids to get a better look to see if they were some unseated squad members who he didn’t recognize initially.

Shit. What he saw instead was the weirdest looking hollow he’d ever seen. Not only that but it looked like it was about to pounce on the trio.

Damn it all, Ichigo had left his combat pass at the hotel, but even if he had it on him, he didn’t have anyone to look after his body. He was pretty sure nothing past a menos could really give him that much trouble in his human body, but he was about to look like a freak punching air. Whatever. Running away from people trying to commit him to an insane asylum was better than letting these weird ass kids die.

Ichigo dove toward the kid with spiky hair and knocked him over before the hollow could take its first swipe at him. He hurtled back to his feet with a weak ‘sorry I didn’t see you there’ and turned to face the hollow. The thing was green and slimy and unlike any other hollow he’d seen before. He raised his fists ready to lay into it.

“Hey, run away!” he heard a feminine voice call behind him. He turned back to see the three in a stance that he would best describe as “poised for battle”. The girl had a hammer in one hand and nails in the other, the pink haired kid had his fists up, and the last—somehow had a sick black sword now?

“What? You can see that thing?!” Ichigo yelled back at them. “And a hollow isn’t exactly something you can kills with construction tools lady, you guys run away!”

“You can see that thing!?” Pinky.

“These aren’t construction tools, asshole!”

“Hey guys, this really isn’t the time!” Spiky.

He sensed the hollow closing in behind him and ducked under a slime shot. The green goo landed on a building behind him and immediately started dissolving the structure where it struck.

Ichigo ran at the bubbling green mass and punched it as hard as he could. He aimed his strike to throw the thing into a back alley where its goo was less likely to touch anyone. The flesh where his fist connected immediately started sizzling. Ichigo looked down at it and it was red and steaming. He turned to the three and grabbed the red scarf off of Pinky’s uniform, wrapped his fist and charged into the alley.

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Yuji was too stunned to yell at the older teenager for stealing his hood. He looked at Fushiguro and Kugisaki puzzled.

“Who the hell does that guy think he is?!” Nobara seethed. “I don’t care if you’re hot! Don’t insult my hammer!” she yelled and ran after him.

“Do you think he’s another sorcerer?” Yuji asked Fushiguro as they ran after Nobara.

“I don’t think so, I didn’t sense any cursed energy from him. And he said something about ‘hollows’. But either way we have to get to him before either Kugisaki or the curse kills him.”

Chapter Text

Ichigo was confused, the hollow, which he was not entirely sure was a hollow anymore, didn’t have a mask and was now splitting into three parts. He’d punched the thing several times with enough force to put a hole through most things, but the damn thing didn’t seem all that phased. There were several craters in the wall from where he’d thrown the green monster, but it kept putting itself back together and the hood he was using to cover his fist was all but disintegrated by now.

He dodged through the flurry of goo that the now three monsters were careening at him.

“HEY YOU! You got some nerve insulting my hammer!” the girl from before charged into the alley behind him.

“Lady-” Ichigo ducked, “-I couldn’t-” he jumped,  “-care less-” he punched, “-about your stupid-” he picked up the nearest green mass and chucked it into a dumpster and slammed the lid closed, “-hammer!”

Ichigo turned back to the girl scowling. The other two had joined her.

“Woah, man, your hands!” Pinky looked concerned. Ichigo looked down and sure enough the cloth he had stolen had completely disintegrated and both hands were red and raw up to his elbows.

“I’m fine, but get back, I think I pissed it off,” Ichigo held down the lid to the dumpster that the monster was trying to escape as he kicked the other two away.

“Let us handle this,” the spiky haired kid approached the nearest monster with his sword ready to attack. “Normal humans can kill curses without their own cursed energy.”

“Wha-,” Ichigo watched as the kid sliced through the nearest pile of goo. It disappeared. Cursed what now? Who the hell were these kids?

The girl, suddenly with a creepy grin on her face, threw a couple of nails in the air and swung her hammer, sending them flying directly at him.

“Hey! What the hell-” he jumped out of the way, letting go of the dumpster lid, and watched as the nails struck the goo who had been trying to sneak up behind him. It also disintegrated. It was a bit of a blow to his pride that a couple little nails could do what his trained fists had tried and miserably failed to do.

The monster that he’d been holding back sprung out of the dumpster and headed directly at Pinky.

“Watch out!” Ichigo winced as Pinky reared back his fist and struck the final foe.

Ichigo would be the first one to admit he had the sensing abilities of a wet paper bag, but it looked as if there was a mass of spirit energy gathering around Pinky’s fist as he punched the monster. To his surprise the monster disappeared, and the kid’s fist looked good as new.

“Don’t worry, Itadori is immune to all forms of poison,” the girl said rolling her eyes in response to his gaping.

“Who the hell are you kids?!”

“Who are we? Who are you man?” Pinky said eyeing him warily. “Are you another sorcerer? And, dude, you don’t look that much older than us.”

“Yuji,” the dark-haired kid seethed, “shut the hell up.”

“A sorcerer? What?” Ichigo was starting to wonder what these kids were on.

“You should come with us. We need to get your hands checked out,” Spiky said diplomatically.

Ichigo didn’t know what weird shit he’d stumbled into this time, but it looked like these kids had it under control. This was none of his business. He’d give Kisuke a quick call and get back to his well-deserved vacation time.

“I’m alright,” his hands hurt like a bitch now that he didn’t have adrenaline fueling him, but they didn’t need to know that. “It looks like you got this covered, so I guess I’ll just be going then,” Ichigo said lamely, stuck his hands in his pockets, and turned to walk out of the alley.

“Hey, wait!” Pinky yelled after him. “You should really come with us! If you were infected, it could get a lot worse.”

“My dad is a doctor, if it gets any worse, I’ll go to him,” Ichigo doubted it would really take very long to heal, but if need be, there wasn’t much Orihime couldn’t heal past literal death.  

“Could you excuse us for a minute,” the dark haired kid stepped in front of the other.

“Sure,” Ichigo said and waived them off.

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Fushiguro stepped aside and he, Itadori, and Kugisaki huddled together.

“We really shouldn’t let him go,” Fushiguro whispered to the two of them. “He’s suspicious at the very least.”

“Yeah, he could see the curse. Normal people can’t usually unless they’re about to die or have cursed energy. And he seemed to think he could exorcise it but had no clue what sorcerers were?” Nobara questioned quietly.

“He could be lying,” Yuji supplied.

“His surprise seemed genuine when we mentioned cursed energy,” Fushiguro considered. “He’s a lot like Yuji was when I met him.”

Fushiguro looked to the wall where the curse first attacked. The goo it shot at them had melted a massive hole in the concrete.

“Honestly, he should be in much worse shape if he was a normal human,” Nobara followed Fushiguro’s gaze to the fissure in the wall. Concrete should be a bit tougher than that guy’s body. “It doesn’t make sense. The curse didn’t faze him, and he even seemed to notice it before we did. But I can’t sense any cursed energy from him.”

“He’s not normal. That curse was at least second grade. A normal person would’ve been dead in less than a minute. Let’s just try to convince him to come back with us and if he refuses, we can try to take him by force.” Fushiguro reasoned.

“I don’t know,” Yuji stood back with a hand on his chin. “He seemed like an alright guy to me. He tried to protect us. And he doesn’t seem like the type of guy to let us drag him with us back to Jujutsu High.”

“Yeah, Fushiguro, you just want to beat him up because he looks like a punk with his hair,” Nobara teased as Fushiguro grumbled.

“We’ll, I guess we just do our best to convince him to come back with us,” Megumi sighed but he could acknowledge that they couldn’t just kidnap random strangers off the street. “We at least need to make sure that he doesn’t have any lingering effects from the curse.” It was possible that what they killed wasn't the curse's main body.

They turned back to the tall orange haired man. He was gone. They spun around couldn’t spot a trace of the orange-haired man in the crowd.

Fushiguro sighed, pulled out his phone, and dialed Gojo.

Chapter Text

Ichigo didn’t wait around for the kids to finish their discussion. As soon as they seemed engrossed enough in their conversation, he turned on his heel and high tailed it out of there.

On his way back to the hotel, he pulled out his phone and called Kisuke.

“Ichigo! What a pleasant surprise!” came Urahara’s chipper voice over the line. “Can I interest you in my latest new product-”

“Hey Kisuke,” Ichigo knew to stop him before he could really get started and get straight to the point. “Do you know anything about ‘cursed energy’?”

That shut him up really quick.

“Hmm…,” came Kisuke’s not answer. “What happened?”

“I ran into a monster. It was green and slimy. I thought it was a hollow, but it didn’t have a mask. I don’t think it could be an arrancar either. These kids spouting off something about ‘curses’ and ‘cursed energy’ came along and killed it.”

“Well, Ichigo! I do believe you just had your very first encounter with a student from Tokyo Jujutsu High!” Kisuke made it sound like he’d just won the lottery. His voice turned serious. “But I’d encourage you to stay away from them, they take after the Soul Society traditions. They’re a bit trigger happy with executions.”

Ichigo rolled his eyes. He’d had enough of the Soul Society’s lame “traditions” to last a lifetime.

“If you do encounter another of the hollow like monsters, I believe you’ll be able to kill it if you are in you soul reaper form,” Ichigo heard Kisuke mumbling to Tessai about ‘spiritual pressure’ and ‘cursed energy’ in the background. “But in your human form, they’ll be impossible to kill. Though if you could still activate your fullbringer, I’d imagine you would be just fine,” that thought seemed to spark an idea in him.

“Were you injured by the curse?” Kisuke inquired serious again.

“I punched it a couple times and it seemed to burn my hands, but its not too bad,” Ichigo responded.

There was a moment of silence over the line.

“How would you feel about enjoying the rest of your vacation with your friends?!” Kisuke’s voice was upbeat again but not his normal ‘I’m a creepy shopkeeper’ voice, but his ‘I’m not telling you the whole story and I’m scheming’ voice.

Ichigo almost called him out on it, but he realized that he probably wouldn’t understand either way. He trusted Kisuke.

“Whatever,” Ichigo sighed. “Don’t send them all the way out here to test your theories Kisuke.”

“I would never do that!” Kisuke had the gall to pretend to be offended. “Bye-bye now!”

Ichigo woke to a pounding on his hotel door. He checked his phone. 10 AM. Did people not know the meaning of vacation? He was a little surprised he slept in so long though, as usually he woke up around 7. Whatever, you were supposed catch up on rest on vacation. Which the person at his door was currently interrupting.

He scowled opening the door, surprised to see the worried faces of Uryu, Chad, and Orihime.

“Huh? What are you guys doing here?” Ichigo said through a yawn. He slept in so long, why was he still tired?

“Ichigo! You’re alright!” Orihime seemed near to tears. “I’m so glad.”

“What are you talking about?” Ichigo stared at them with a blank face. “Did Kisuke send you guys?”

Uryu stepped forward into Ichigo’s room. Ichigo begrudgingly let him pass.

“Kisuke said that you’d been infected with something potentially lethal, and we needed to come immediately,” he looked at Ichigo rather skeptically. “And of course, we had to be the ones to come bail you out of trouble.”

Uryu pushed his glasses up and looked at Ichigo. He seemed fine? He would never tell Ichigo, but Kisuke had freaked him the hell out. But Ichigo seemed to be acting like himself.

“Bail me out of trouble?!” Ichigo knew he was being baited but couldn’t help himself. “I was doing just fine without you!”

Uryu, Chad, and Orihime wouldn’t say anything, but they were relieved to see Ichigo behaving normally. When they got the call from Kisuke in the middle of the night, they were afraid they might find Ichigo half dead in his hotel room.

“And what the hell! Kisuke didn’t say anything about ‘being infected’ last night when I talked to him,” Ichigo was still feeling exhausted despite sleeping and the fight left him almost all at once. His single-person room was beginning to feel hot and crowded with the three extra guests, so he sat down at the small table in the corner of the room.

“There is actually a reason he didn’t tell you,” Uryu started. “Apparently, you were infected by a monster who uses techniques that work faster once you are aware of the effect of the technique, though he didn’t say what exactly was wrong with you to begin with.”

“Well, I’m sorry you guys came all the way out here, but, as you can see, I’m not dying,” Ichigo pinched the bridge of his nose to quell the headache that was beginning to form. He looked up confused as they collectively gasped.

“Ichigo,” Chad spoke for the first time. “Your hands.”

Ichigo looked down at his upturned palms.

“What the hell?!” his skin had turned various shades of purple and red and there were—eyeballs open and closing on his palms. It looked like it continued under his nightshirt, so he rolled up his sleeves to see more of the same. Now that he was more awake and aware, he really did feel like shit. His arms throbbed dully, and his body ached like he had the flu.

“Take off your shirt so we can see how far it spread,” Uryu demanded. Ichigo scowled but did as he was told.

He watched them all grimace as they saw underneath. He walked over to the mirror in his room and damn, he really couldn’t blame them. He looked like something out of a horror movie, with the coloring and eyeballs extending up his arm and almost to his neck.

“Sōten Kisshun,” Ichigo looked back to see Orihime’s hands up and her golden dome surround him. Ichigo sighed. He hated that they had to come all the way out here and save him because he couldn’t mind his own damn business. Ichigo turned back to the mirror to see the disgusting flesh receding down his arms.

After a couple of minutes of Orihime’s healing, Ichigo no longer looked like a zombie and felt a hundred times better.

“Thanks, Orihime,” he said giving her a small smile.

“No problem, Ichigo!” she said smiling brightly again.

Chapter Text

Ichigo laid on his bed bored out of his mind. He’d been exiled to his hotel room while his friends went to investigate. Ichigo had insisted on coming along but they informed him that he was most likely being targeted because curses were normally tied to places with negative emotions attached to them, and not out and about. Apparently, Kisuke was pretty sure that he would be able to kill curses in his soul reaper form, but not fully confident so they figured him staying behind would be the best option. And that way, even if he was attacked, he could at least leave his body locked up in his room.

He heard a knock at the door.

Damn, already? That was quick, he figured he had a couple more hours before his friends came back to relieve him of his boredom. Ichigo made his way to the door.

“I didn’t think you guys would be back so s-” Ichigo’s pleasant mood vanished when he saw who was on the other side of the door. Not his friends, but a tall man with stark white hair and a black blindfold covering his eyes.

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Gojo exited the elevator on the fifth floor replacing his blindfold back on his face. He strode down the halls of a rather unassuming hotel like he owned the place. Getting in was a piece of cake, he just scoped out the shyest looking receptionist and spun a tale about losing his keycard. He flashed a couple of smiles, batted his eyelashes and he was on his way.

Finding the hotel, was an entirely different story. Much more difficult. When his precious students had called him last night about a suspicious teenager attempting to beat on a curse and then disappearing into the night, he’d been curious to say the least. It wasn’t good to have unknown players for the enemy to recruit. Apparently, the kid was reasonably tall, had orange hair (his students debated whether it was dyed or not, but Megumi settled the debate saying he knew dyed hair from natural--Gojo suspected from his days beating on delinquents), and looked like he’d been travelling in Tokyo, but was Japanese. His student reported he may a father who worked as a doctor, but they weren’t sure if he was lying. And finally, he had a mean right hook. It wasn’t much to go off of, but with some help from Nanami, they’d figured it out. The kid’s name was Ichigo Kurosaki from Karakura Town. Father Isshin Kurosaki, who ran a clinic in the town. Had a spotty school record filled with good grades but many fights and many absences.

Gojo was excited to meet the kid. If his student’s recount of his fighting ability was accurate, the kid had potential to become a mean sorcerer. More importantly, he’d fought a special grade spirit. Though his students had disposed of the portion of the curse attacking them, Gojo had gone to the scene to track the residuals left behind and discovered that the curse attacking them was merely a portion of a much larger curse. Apparently, he’d fought off the curse, who’s technique was akin to acid, with his bare hands. Until the entire curse was exorcised, he was not likely to heal. Gojo was a little worried that the kid might be dead by the time he got there. But, that was unlikely, as he had some sort of resistance to the curse or he wouldn’t have hands at all.

Equally importantly, he needed to find out if the kid was holding onto dangerous loyalties. Apparently, he’d been rather skittish upon being questioned by his students and, though he’d attempted to protect them, his students were still quite suspicious of the teen.

Gojo stopped outside the door he was looking for and knocked at the door. He wasn’t expecting the door to swing wide open. The teen had a rather relaxed look on the face he’d seen scowling in all the photos they’d dug up of him.

“I didn’t think you guys would be back so s-” the teen stopped short once he saw Gojo and immediately scowled at him. Ah, there it is.

“Expecting someone?” Gojo inquired.

“Who the hell are you?” came his cagey response.

“I’m Satoru Gojo!” Gojo responded cheerily with a wave. “I’m an instructor at Tokyo Jujutsu High School!”

(Ichigo’s eye twitched as he was viscerally reminded of Urahara)

“Why are you here?” Gojo noticed the teens hands slip into his pockets. It was made to look like a casual motion, but he could tell that the movement was calculated. Did he have a weapon?

(Ichigo grabbed his combat pass in his pocket, ready to pull it out at a moment’s notice.)

“Well, my students, I believe you met them last night, wanted to make sure that you made it home safe!”

Much to Gojo’s surprise, the Ichigo kid didn’t seem to have a scratch on him. That didn’t bode well. He had to have been in contact with a sorcerer who healed him and it wasn’t one of theirs. The kid’s eyes narrowed.

“How did you know I was here?

“You see, our high school is very well connected,” Gojo lied easily waving his hand as if to say ‘oh, it’s no big deal’.

The kid didn’t buy it.

“Yeah, right,” Ichigo scoffed. “Well, as you can see, I’m perfectly fine,” he gestured toward himself. “So you can be on your way,” and moved to shut the door in his face.

“Actually, I quite curious as to how your wounds healed, if you don’t mind me asking,” Gojo asked getting tired of being obtuse.

Ichigo noticed the change in the older man’s voice from overly cheery to deadly serious. Ah, so he’s dropping the act. He was once again reminded of Kisuke’s shifts in demeanor when discussing more serious matters. Was it a prerequisite to be obnoxiously chipper and have intense mood swings to become a mentor in the supernatural?

However, if the man was anything like Urahara, then he should be wary.

“I have a friend who’s a very talented healer,” Ichigo decided to give a vague answer but give him a nibble to try to see what he was getting at. However, Kisuke’s ‘stay away’ warning rang in the back of his head.

“I would very much like to meet them,” the white-haired man’s voice cheery voice was back but the mood had already changed.

“No.”

Ichigo felt his heartrate spike. He suddenly wished he’d questioned Kisuke more about the sorcerers but at this point, it didn’t matter who they were. Orihime had already been kidnapped one too many times for her powers. He wasn’t letting anyone near her.

Gojo thought the teen was cagey before, but the kid’s expression had completely hardened, and it suddenly looked like he was itching for a fight. It was looking more and more like the worst-case scenario in which the kid was already working for the enemy

“These things are never easy,” Gojo sighed. “Looks like we’ll have to do this the hard way.”

The thinly veiled threat had Ichigo pulling his combat pass out of his pocket as Gojo reached for his blindfold.

Chapter Text

Gojo figured he’d knock the kid out, take him to Jujutsu High, and interrogate him. Much like what he did with Yuji. But, at that moment, he felt a familiar residual heading a breakneck speed toward the window of the hotel room.

“Get down!” Gojo yelled but the kid had already hit the floor and rolled to the side. Curious, but he didn’t have time to think about it at that exact moment.

A massive green blob crashed through the window, sending glass flying everywhere. The curse was twice the height of him and was oozing slime.

“Holy shit! That thing's huge!” Ichigo yelled as he dove to the side from where the curse shot a geyser of the deadly ooze at him.

The curse had all but ignored Gojo and focused on the teen. He figured that he should probably assist the teen, as, like his students had reported, Gojo didn’t sense any cursed energy from the teen. Gojo was about to jump in to help but he was surprised to see that the teen was actually fairing pretty well, dodging all the curse’s assaults.

“This is the curses main body,” Gojo explained. “What you fought yesterday was only a portion of it. Now get back, this one is several levels stronger.”

To his surprise, Ichigo scowled at him as if to say ‘yeah right,’ and turned to face the thing. He pulled a piece of wood out of his pocket, shoved it against his chest, and promptly—passed out?

… “What the fuck?”

Gojo jumped to scoop up the teen's body and shielded him from the latest barrage of goo. He activated his infinity, but the goo never reached them. Gojo was confused. He found himself a little short of breath and it felt like the air had suddenly become dense. That didn’t line up with the curse’s reported abilities?

He looked up.

There, the orange haired teen stood in front of him shrouded in the most massive cloud of cursed energy he’d ever seen. Wait no, it felt similar, but it wasn’t cursed energy he was sensing. It felt like the force of gravity itself was emanating from him. He looked down and sure enough, he wasn’t hallucinating, there were two of the kid.

“Just what the hell are you kid!?” Gojo yelled.

Ichigo looked back at the man. He was still wearing the damn blindfold, so Ichigo couldn’t really get a read on him. However, Gojo could still move pretty freely under the force of his spiritual pressure, so he was right in thinking that the man may be a threat. Ichigo held up Zangetsu to shield himself from the goo the curse was sending at him.

“I’m surprised you can see me in this form,” Ichigo said lamely, not particularly fond of the idea of getting into the novel that was his heritage.

Gojo took a better look at the kid. He was now in a black robe, wielding a massive sword, with another shorter blade in his sash. Gojo was torn between hysterics and pulling a ‘higher-ups’ and executing the kid on the spot. The kid was using techniques that he’d never seen before, and it had been all of five seconds. Gojo didn’t know what the teen was capable of. Body doubles? Weapon summoning? On top of that he had suppressed his cursed energy to the point Gojo himself couldn’t sense it.

Ichigo ignored the older man for now. He could dodge his questions later. He turned toward the hollow--no, curse—and hoped Kisuke was right about him be able to kill it in his soul reaper form. Ichigo jumped in the air meaning to drive his sword straight into the top of the monster.

Except he never connected. The curse seemed to sense what Ichigo intended to do and reshaped its body to form a donut looking structure, effectively dodging his sword and surrounding him. He flash-stepped back up and away from the monster.

Ichigo sighed. He looked back at Gojo, who seemed to be having the time of his life watching him fight instead of helping him out. This was going to be embarrassing.

“Bakudō Number 61: Rikujōkōrō!” Ichigo yelled desperately hoping the spell didn’t blow up in his face.

The kido looked like absolute garbage compared to what he’d seen Byakuya and Rukia do, but it had its intended effect. The six bars of golden reshi, though it had jagged edges and holes throughout, held the curse in place. Ichigo wasted no time slicing the thing in half. (He was suddenly glad Rukia had found it unacceptable that Ichigo didn’t know any kido and went of her way to teach him the essential ones, even if she had quit after two days).

The curse disintegrated, not unlike the way hollows did.

Gojo watched as Ichigo exorcised the curse. This kid in front of him was a mystery. He didn’t understand his techniques at all.

Ichigo turned back to Gojo, and Gojo saw his eyes flick from his face down to his arms, or rather what he was carrying in his arms. Gojo got the sense, now that it wasn’t in danger of acidic goo, the boy may want to be in control of his other form. However, he said nothing.

The look on Ichigo’s face as he regarded him was one Gojo had seen before. His body was tense for a fight, but not so rigid that his movements would be jerky if he were to be attacked. His swords were not raised, but he had not sheathed them either. His eyes were serious but not threatening, calculating but not afraid. This orange-haired teen was a soldier.

Gojo found himself a little angry. Though he looked young, Ichigo was not a boy, but a man. Someone had stolen his youth away from him.

Gojo took the initiative to walk over to the robed man and hold his body out to him. The kid took his body back and, though he regarded him warily, he seemed a little more comfortable. The swords were still out.

Gojo hoped that his show of good faith may give him a leeway to ask him just what the fuck he was.

At that moment, the remaining windows shattered as Uryu, Orihime, and Chad made their return.

(Ichigo took a moment to lament the security deposit he never going to be getting back.)

The trio hopped off Uryu’s reshi platform and took in the sight of the destroyed room.

“Ichigo, are you’re alright? We sensed your spiritual pressure and rushed back!” Orihime was a little frantic as she ran over to him.

“Orihime get back!” Ichigo hadn’t forgotten the white-haired man’s original line of questioning. He wished they’d stayed away just a bit longer so he could find out how much the man knew about Orihime and her powers and how he got that information.

At his yell, his three friends had his back. Uryu’s bow was activated and trained on Gojo. Chad’s fullbring was already activated and he had both of his armor-clad arms raised. Orihime’s hands were against her hairpins ready to call them out at a moment’s notice.

“And I’m fine, Kisuke was right.”

If Gojo was alarmed before, now he was gearing up for a fight. Unlike when he’d first encountered Ichigo, these three teens were emitting massive amounts of cursed energy. This wasn't good, Ichigo had been suspicious by himself, but adding three unregistered curse-users into the mix was all but damning. The tall, tan-skinned one felt the most like other sorcerers. Based on his output, Gojo guessed he would be first grade. The orange haired woman had a smaller output, but the energy was intricate, weaving six different types of residuals together. She likely had complex and powerful techniques. The dark-haired kid wielding a bow made of light had the most cursed energy of the three newcomers. He, like Ichigo, also had the gaze of a battle-hardened warrior.

Gojo, for the first time in a very, very long time felt like this was a fight where he might be challenged. There were too many variables and unknowns.

“Ichigo, who is this man?” Uryu regarded Gojo coolly.

“I’m not sur—”

“Satoru Gojo. And who might you all be?” Gojo said equally coolly. At this point, the time for fake pleasantries has passed.

Ichigo wasn’t good at this small talk. Gojo hadn’t seemed entirely trustworthy but had also protected his body as he dealt with the curse. But, Ichigo had learned his lesson with Ginjo. Should he ask him outright what he wanted with Orihime or just beat him down and take his friends and get the hell out of Tokyo?

“Yeah, you said that already,” Ichigo said irritated. “That doesn’t mean anything to me. What do you want?”

“I want to know who healed your wounds,” Gojo said. “Ichigo Kurosaki.”

Gojo lifted his hand to his face and pulled the blindfold free.

Chapter Text

“I want to know who healed your wounds,” the white-haired man–Satoru Gojo–said. “Ichigo Kurosaki.”

At this point in his life, Ichigo wasn’t surprised when weird strangers knew his name. His name had been tossed around by people he'd never met before, ally and enemy alike. Hell, Aizen had known him from before he was even born.

What gave him a moment of surprise, however, was once Gojo had pulled his blindfold from his face, he revealed the most striking, dare he say beautiful, blue eyes he'd ever seen. The man also looked like he could be Hitsugaya’s older brother, or really, his great-great-great-great grandson.

Despite his momentary lapse in concentration, the man’s menacing tone had Ichigo readying his swords for a fight. 

“Yeah, and I told you I’m not telling you,” Ichigo responded, raising his longer sword toward the older man. Gojo seemed ready to pounce on him, but he didn’t seem to have any weapons on him. 

Ichigo watched as Gojo brought his hands out in front of him and interlocked his fingers. When he disappeared from view, the hairs on Ichigo’s neck stood on end, warning him of danger. Ichigo reacted on pure instinct to deflect the fist coming toward his back with Zangetsu. 

Ichigo’s eyes widened. There wasn’t a being in the soul society who could flash step fast enough that Ichigo couldn’t track them with his eyes.

Though Gojo was surprised Ichigo stopped his blow without even looking back at him, he didn’t waste any time to reflect on it. If anything, it just added to the fact that this teen was dangerous and he needed to end this quickly. 

As he didn’t know anything about Ichigo’s abilities, Gojo didn’t want to let the teen gather his bearings and jumped after him as he retreated from his initial blow. Gojo aimed a punch at the kid’s side. But Ichigo was fast, faster than even Yuji or Maki. Gojo needed to step it up a notch. Ichigo had merely been avoiding his blows so far, but hadn’t made a move to go on the offensive.

Suddenly, Ichigo dashed past him toward the open window and lept from the sill into the open air. Ah, so he’s luring me outside.

Guess I shouldn’t keep him waiting.

Ichigo was a bit confused. Gojo had kept a flurry of blows coming his way, but none of them were quite as quick as the initial punch he’d aimed his way. Ichigo was glad that Gojo had followed him outside. He’d retreated to the skies, a good level above where he could swing his sword freely without worrying about accidentally knocking a couple buildings over in the process. 

There was a lull in the battle, the opponents regarding each other, suspended in the air above the bustling city. Time to get serious .

Ichigo flash stepped forward, swinging his sword where Gojo stood on nothing. Gojo almost jumped back instinctively due to the sheer speed of the sword coming at his side. He activated his infinity as the sword came inches from his body. 

As Ichigo rushed at the white-haired man, he was a bit miffed that the man didn’t even make a move to dodge his sword. His annoyance quickly turned to confusion when the blade stopped just short of reaching him. It seemed like there was an invisible barrier between Zangetsu and Gojo. Well, whatever. If there was a barrier, he’d just have to break it. 

He renewed his assault, attacking faster and putting more force behind his blows. 

Though to the observer, Gojo would seem as composed and nonchalant as ever, inside he was a bit unsettled. Yes, his infinity had protected him Ichigo’s swing, but it had not stopped the sword altogether . When the sword had reached infinity, it slowed down considerably but had kept inching forward, despite his technique.

“Your friends aren’t going to help you out?” Gojo inquired casually, as if he wasn’t taking a swing at Ichigo’s head. 

“They trust that I can settle my own battles,” Ichigo responded, evading below Gojo’s outstretched arm and retaliating in turn. 

Gojo retreated to a distance and stretched his palm toward Ichigo, calling forth his red technique.

“A cero?” Ichigo looked stunned. Gojo used this shock to his advantage and warped to strike his unprotected back. 

Except, impossibly, the teen had the wherewithal to draw the shorter blade to catch his jab at his back amidst slashing through his technique, dissipating the cursed energy. The remnants of the blast billowed past him, but the kid was seemingly untouched.

The two traded blows, Ichigo too fast for Gojo to connect and Gojo’s infinity stopping anything Ichigo threw at him. 

“It seems we are at an impasse,” Gojo grinned, but not in the overly cheery manner he was sporting before. 

Though it was more subtle, Gojo’s demeanor was reminiscent of Kenpachi. He was enjoying himself. And Ichigo had to admit it, the man was more powerful than he’d been expecting. He probably hadn’t had anyone who could give him a good fight in a long time. Ichigo figured that anyone below a captain level would be cannon fodder for this odd man.

“Not quite,” Ichigo had the barest hint of a smirk on his face. “That’s a neat trick you have there.” 

Ichigo flipped through the air and rained down a flurry of blows on Gojo.

“But you don’t use it when you attack!” Ichigo yelled. Much to Gojo’s surprise, Ichigo didn’t make an effort to dodge his punch, instead taking it in the chest, grabbing his arm and pulling him in close. Gojo threw himself back from the descending sword but did not come out entirely unscathed. 

Ichigo thought it had been a great plan but damn , Gojo hit hard. His stomach ached. It was worth it though, to see the torn jacket on the man with a hint of blood seeping through.

Satoru Gojo looked much more amused than he should’ve been, for a man who’d just been sliced with an oversized sword. He laughed maniacally, zeroing in on Ichigo.

“You’re certainly the most interesting person I’ve met for a while,” Gojo said coyly. “But how long can you keep this up?”

Judging by the teen's inhuman durability, Gojo figured his next attack wouldn’t kill him, but it might come close.

“Curse technique amplification: Blue.”

Ichigo watched as his opponent’s hands came together, his eerie blue eyes boring into him.

“Cursed technique reversal: Red.”

Though Ichigo’s sensing abilities were abysmal, he would have to be inept not to feel the immense amount of energy brewing in his opponent’s hands. 

“Hollow Purple,” the man’s hand extended toward him. From his hand a massive violet ball of energy shot toward him, seemingly as powerful as a cero from Ulquiorra. If not for his lack of mask and apparent lack of knowledge of soul reapers, Ichigo may have thought this man was an espada. 

While Ichigo could tank a couple of punches, he figured that , whatever it was, wasn’t something he wanted to hit him. He bent his knees and gathered spirit energy in his sword.

“Getsuga–” Ichigo drew his sword back, “-- tensho! ”

The two colossal masses of energy collided in the sky with the force of an earthquake. Ichigo’s friends, watching the fight from the hotel window down below, had to grab the walls to avoid being blown to the ground. 

Ichigo flash stepped away from the residual energy that his getsuga hadn’t countered. Whatever that attack was, it was enormously powerful. Ichigo had not been taking this man seriously enough. 

“Ban -” Ichigo held his swords out. “ka –”

Uryu appeared beside him, grabbing his wrist.

“Stop it, Ichigo!” he yelled. “We don’t want to destroy the city!”

Ichigo took a moment to look down at the remnants of his fight with Gojo. They were high enough that no serious damage had come to the buildings from the last attack, but the roof below him looked scorched and was in disarray. 

“Well, what do you suggest we do then, Uryu!?” 

“Maybe don’t unleash your Getsuga in one of the most densely populated areas in Japan!”

“What, you want me to just let him kidnap Orihime?” Ichigo yelled, gesturing to Gojo, who had been content to watch them argue.

At that, the dark-haired teen’s head turned toward him, regarding him fiercely. 

“You want to kidnap Orihime?” he asked carefully, suddenly gripping the cross he wore on his wrist.

Gojo lifted his hand, as if to ask a question in school.

“Who the hell is Orihime?” he asked.

Uryu’s head whipped to Ichigo, who started to look abashed. 

“Of course you just had to pick a fight!”

Chapter Text

“He attacked me first!”

“Yeah, after you were swinging your sword around like an idiot!”

“There was a monster in my freaking room, did you want me to let it kill me?!”

Uryu grumbled to himself. Probably something along the lines of ‘it would make our lives a lot easier’.

Gojo was somewhere between flabbergasted, bloodthirsty, and thrilled. Ichigo was wildly strong, and they both knew it. But, from the looks of it, Ichigo and his friends didn’t seem malicious. The kid had taken the fight outside to avoid collateral damage and Gojo didn’t sense any real intent to kill him.

But, though Gojo had put on a show that would terrify most people, sorcerers, and curses alike, Ichigo took all that he threw at him in stride and tossed it right back. The kid most definitely had some fighting experience. He had incredible reflexes and even figured out on the fly that Gojo lowered his infinity when attacking so that his fist could actually connect with its target. And, he’d somehow countered hollow purple with a technique of his own. Gojo needed some answers, and he needed them soon.

Gojo approached the two teens in the air, who seemed to forget he was even there with them. Instead, they looked like they were about to fight each other, trading insults and shouting in each other’s face.

But, the closer he got, the two of them apparently abandoned their argument and regarded him, with Ichigo in the front and the dark-haired kid standing guard behind his shoulder. Though they seemed to have some sort of rivalry, Gojo could sense the trust between them.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to ask you some questions,” Gojo hadn’t replaced his blindfold yet. He kept his tone even and non-threatening.

At their silence, he continued.

“You see, we’re in a bit of what you might call…,” Gojo paused looking for the right word. “… a war really. I’m just trying to see what side of it you’re on.”

“I’m not on anyone’s side,” Ichigo said with his eyes narrowed.

“Well, as much as I’d love to believe that were true,” Gojo drawled slyly, “it’s a little hard to believe. You were infected by a curse yesterday, and yet, now here you stand, good as new.”

Ichigo scowled at him. “Yeah, and…?”

“Curses can only be expelled from the body by someone who knows how to do it. If one of our allies had healed you, I would know. Which leaves us in our current predicament.”

Uryu listened to the man in front of him, trying to put the pieces together. But it slowly made sense. Kisuke had sent Orihime to heal him in the middle of the night, convinced that Ichigo wouldn’t get better on his own. Apparently, Gojo had shown up expecting Ichigo to still be dealing with the curse’s effects, and had assumed the worst, upon finding him healed.

That left one more question. He locked eyes with Ichigo, who seemed to be coming to the same conclusion as him. Did they want to reveal Orihime? Uryu sighed. It had to be done. Ichigo gave an imperceptible nod.

“Might I suggest we go back to the room, you two made quite the spectacle and we don’t want anyone calling the police,” Uryu said to the man in front of him.

“What, so you can dispose of me without any prying eyes?” Gojo said shrewdly.

Ichigo snorted.

“Shut up,” he said rolling his eyes, “you can literally teleport.”

Ichigo turned away from them and flash stepped toward the broken windows.

----------------

Ichigo didn’t like the idea of Orihime revealing her powers to Gojo, but it was likely better than having a whole school of supernatural curse-hunters coming down on their heads.  

He was relieved that Gojo had come back to the room with him and Uryu. Ichigo sat down at the table in the corner that had miraculously survived the curses’ attack.

“Ichigo, Uryu! Are you guys alright?!” Orihime squeaked when they made their way back in.

“We’re fine Orihime, thank you.” Uryu said to placate her nerves.

Gojo turned his attention to the young orange-haired woman in the room. He hadn’t forgotten the two teens’ inclination that he’d showed up to kidnap someone. Someone by the name of Orihime.

Upon Gojo’s scrutiny of the girl, Ichigo, who’d entered his other form, seemed immediately on edge, and strategically placed himself between the two.

Though he didn’t seem happy about it, Ichigo turned to face Gojo.

“One of your enemies didn’t heal me,” he said scowling and gestured to the girl. “She did.”

The girl looked puzzled but smiled slightly at him, nonetheless.

“Where have you studied cursed healing techniques?” Gojo said intrigued. Cursed healing was extremely advanced, and only few sorcerers could pull it off.

“…eh, cursed, um, what now?” she said still smiling, looking more and more confused.

“None of us have studied sorcery. We all have different kinds of powers. Orihime can heal nearly every wound known to man,” Uryu had stepped forward, pushing his glasses up as he explained.

“Uh…” Gojo said disbelievingly, suddenly understanding why they thought he may be out to get the young woman. That was a power anyone would be lucky to get their hands on.

Gojo wasn’t entirely convinced. Sure, the girl may be a talented healer, but injuries done by curses and cursed energy couldn’t exactly be classified as wounds. They ran deeper than that, into the hosts body and soul.

When the girl looked toward his shoulder, her face became serious in an instant.

“You’re hurt,” she said steadily, rising from the chair she’d been sitting in.

Gojo hadn’t paid any attention to the wound on his shoulder. It wasn’t so deep and other, more important things had been occupying his attention. It was something he could easily heal with cursed energy later.

The girl stopped in front of him and raised her hands to the clips in her hair.

Gojo instinctively activated his infinity when a golden dome enveloped him.

He was a little more than alarmed when his technique, against his own will, deactivated. Except, it didn’t deactivate. There was a certain feeling associated with deactivating his technique, and it remained disturbingly absent. It felt as though this girl had forced the technique back from existence. He resisted the urge to jump up and get this girl to stop whatever she was doing, but he had a feeling that wouldn’t go over so well with the rest of the room’s occupants. Gojo’s eyes drifted to his shoulder and watched the flesh neatly knit itself back together.

He may have been doubtful before, but now, he was a believer. There wasn’t any technique that could heal wounds that fast.

Gojo looked up in wonder at the girl standing before him with her arms outstretched. At his gaze, she smiled brightly at him.

“All done!” she cheered excitedly, as the dome receded from existence. She dropped her arms and stood back, looking at Ichigo.

It seemed Ichigo was the de facto leader of the group. He stood up and strode forward.

“Well, as you can see, Orihime isn’t trying to get after you and your group,” Ichigo said standoffishly. “So, if you could leave us be, that’d be great.”

Gojo hadn’t seen the other two teens’ abilities, but if this young woman with perhaps godly powers regarded Ichigo as the leader, he figured that their earlier fight might have gone much differently if they’d both been serious from the outset.

“Not so fast Ichigo,” the dark-haired teen interjected and turned toward him. “We actually may need your help.”

“Hmm?” Gojo was intrigued to see where this was going.

“Our knowledge of curses is very limited. We didn’t even know they existed until yesterday. However, we have reason to believe someone was targeting Ichigo, likely trying to engage with him.”

“You could come to Tokyo Jujutsu High,” Gojo suggested, not wanting to let the teens away so quickly. “There are many sorcerers there and you might find the information you want.”

The four teens in the room exchanged uneasy glances.

“Eh, well we would rather get it from you,” Ichigo said with dry humor. “We’ve heard the school likes to execute people that make them nervous.”

Gojo couldn’t help but laugh sardonically at that.

“Our reputation proceeds us,” Gojo said dryly with a mock bow. “I don’t know where you heard that, but you’d be right. However, I do have some pull at the school, so they won’t try anything with me around.”

Gojo glanced at the young woman.

“But yeah, I’d suggest keeping her powers to yourselves.” Gojo said darkly.

Gojo suddenly clapped his hands together and beamed brightly at them.

“Alright then! I’ll send my precious students by to pick you guys up tomorrow,” he said gleefully, tying his blindfold back over his eyes.

Gojo turned and opened the door behind him that was barely hanging on by its hinges.

“Wait, we didn’t even—” Ichigo shouted after him as the door slammed shut.

Chapter Text

Yuji, Nobara, and Fushiguro stood in front of a door that looked nothing like it was supposed to.

Fushiguro pulled out his phone and opened his message from Gojo, wanting to make sure he had the right room. The number matched what Gojo had said. There was supposed to have been a fight here with the curse they’d encountered two days prior. The curse with acidic goo.

Yuji, oblivious to his friend’s internal turmoil, raised his hand and knocked at the door.

After a few moments, the door swung open to a familiar orange haired teen.

“Uh, hi,” the teen said, scratching at the back of his head.

“Hi, you’re Ichigo, right?” Fushiguro stepped forward. “Gojo sent us to pick you and your friends up.”

“Something came up and they had to leave.”

“Oh, alright I guess.” Fushiguro said tactfully. Gojo had suspected that Ichigo’s friends would be gone by the time they went back for him.

When Gojo had returned to Tokyo Jujutsu High the night before, he’d been uncharacteristically serious calling Yuji, Nobara, and him together to his room late at night. Though he’d kept his usual air of foolishness, Fushiguro had seen Gojo discreetly making sure that they weren’t followed. When they’d made it to his room, Fushiguro had almost shit his pants, noticing that Gojo’s jacket had been torn. Though Gojo didn’t seem to be injured at all, in all the time Fushiguro had known Gojo, nothing had ever been able to get close enough to him to damage his clothes.

Gojo had laid out a simple mission: go get the Ichigo kid and bring him back with to Tokyo Jujutsu High with his friends or by himself. He’d been rather dodgy about additional questioning, telling them to ask Ichigo anything they wanted to know.

“You ready to go?” Yuji asked him, bouncing up and down with pent up energy.

“Yeah, just give me a second to grab my stuff,” Ichigo said, turning back into the room.

The three sorcerers stepped into the room behind him. It was in almost pristine condition, with only the bed unmade and few living essentials scattered about. No signs of a fight.

“Did you switch rooms?” Fushiguro couldn’t contain his curiosity any longer.

“Huh? No,” Ichigo responded with his back facing him, pushing the last few items into his duffel bag and zipping it up.

“Didn’t you exorcise that nasty green curse here?” Nobara asked suspiciously, catching onto Fushiguro’s apprehension.

“Oh,” Ichigo looked slightly alarmed, “well, we just, uh… cleaned up a bit…,” he finished lamely, wincing at his obviously unconvincing answer.

“Why’s Gojo so insistent that you come to Jujutsu High, anyway?” she questioned unimpressed.

Fushiguro had to agree with her skepticism. The teen hadn’t even been able to dispose of a low-grade piece of a larger curse without their help. There was something more going on that Gojo hadn’t felt the need to tell them.

“You’d have to ask him,” Ichigo scowled at her, seemingly getting a bit annoyed.

------

Ichigo followed the kids out of the hotel, after poorly dodging their questions. Though Gojo had kept his word to not blab about his and Orihime’s powers, it seemed that the man had told his students next to nothing.

They approached a car, with a nervous looking man sitting in the driver's seat.

“Hey Ijichi! We’re all ready to go!” Yuji grinned at the driver.

“You guys have a personal chauffeur?” Ichigo asked, staring at the car. If he’d known that this school was so upscale, he might not have given them so much trouble going along.

Nobara, who Ichigo had pinned as a Tatsuki variant, rolled her eyes at him and the rest just ignored him.

“Oh, Ichigo,” Fushiguro paused before getting in the car, turning toward him.

Ichigo watched confused as Fushiguro had placed his hand on the sidewalk. Ichigo jumped back as a shadow gathered around the teen's hand and a dagger came out of the ground.

“Here, Gojo said to give you this,” Fushiguro said, tilting the handle toward him.

“What the hell…,” Ichigo muttered under his breath, accepting the handle.

He shifted the blade around in his hand trying to get to a position that felt comfortable.

“It’s not really what I’m used to,” Ichigo grumbled, giving the dagger a few test swings.

“So, what are you used to?” Fushiguro prodded.

Ichigo leveled Fushiguro with a look that said, ‘I haven’t been answering your questions so why do you keep asking?’

Fushiguro thought back to his conversation with Gojo, when he’d instructed him to give Ichigo the dagger. Gojo had told him to try not to get Ichigo involved in anything too dangerous, a semi-grade one curse or above. Fushiguro had asked why Gojo wanted him at Jujutsu High so bad if he couldn’t handle a semi-grade one curse and Gojo had just laughed and patted him on the head saying, you worry too much Megumi.

Fushiguro huffed and climbed into the car behind everyone.

----

When they’d arrived at Tokyo Jujutsu High, after a car ride of Ijichi sweating trying to break through the awkward tension in the car, it seemed like everyone was happy to get out and stretch their legs.

Ichigo looked up at the campus before them.

“Whoa, this kinda looks like…,” he trailed off looking a bit surprised.

“So, this is your guys’ home base?” Ichigo asked turning his head toward the others as they walked.

“It’s like Itadori all over again,” Nobara huffed, incredulous.

“Yep, the school trains sorcerers, but many stay here after they graduate,” Fushiguro answered.

After taking a tour of the grounds, Fushiguro showed Ichigo to his room, which Gojo had, infuriatingly, assigned right next to his and Yuji’s.

After having Ichigo settle in, everyone retreated to their respective rooms. Before Fushiguro could step inside his room to ruminate on the events of the day, Ichigo motioned to him.

“Hey, um…,” Ichigo had a perplexed look on his face as he held his new dagger.

“Why does it feel like that?” he said swinging the dagger lightly.

“What do you mean?” Fushiguro was a bit confused himself.

“Well, I don’t really know how to explain it, but it feels like the blade is radiating arrogance?” Ichigo looked at Fushiguro, halfway expecting him to call him crazy.

Instead, to Ichigo’s surprise, he laughed.

“That’s because it’s imbued with Todo’s cursed energy,” Fushiguro explained, laughing again. “He’s not known for his modesty.”

“What?!” Ichigo looked like he was about to throw the thing. “If this thing has his spirit, er, cursed energy in it, shouldn’t he be the only one to use it?”

“Uh, no?” Fushiguro wasn’t sure where he got that idea from, but it was foreign to him. “Cursed tools like that can be used by people without cursed energy to kill curses. I figure that’s why Gojo wanted you to have it.”

Ichigo stood back and seemed to think on that for a minute.

“I guess that makes sense,” Ichigo looked down at the blade, but still seemed to cringe at the thought of using it.

(It felt too much like using someone else’s zanpakuto.)

“Well, good night,” Ichigo gave Fushiguro a wave before turning into his room.

----

For the third time in as many days, Ichigo woke to pounding on his door.

He groaned getting out of bed and opened his door with the best scowl he could manage.

“Good morning, Ichigo!” the pink haired sorcerer, Yuji, was not deterred by Ichigo’s foul mood.

“Oy, what do you want?” Ichigo snapped at him.

“We’re going to start training for the day,” Fushiguro appeared from behind him.

“Yeah, get your ass out of bed! If I don’t get my beauty sleep neither do you,” Nobara said with her nose in the air.

Ichigo was about to protest that he didn’t really need any training, but he was all but dragged out the door before he could.

Ichigo grumbled the entire way to the open field that they were supposed to be training in. When they arrived, Ichigo was met with the sight of three people, or rather, two people and a panda, already sparring.

Ichigo shook himself to remind him that this was not the soul society. He was about to inquire about the talking panda, but he decided against it. If the panda was anything like Captain Komamura, it was probably a sensitive topic.

“Hey guys!” Yuji prattled on, “We have a new recruit!”

Ichigo was going to protest that he was not, in fact, a new recruit but figured they didn’t need to know that he was only here to find out who sent the curse after him. (And decide if they were a threat to his friends.)

“Yo,” Ichigo greeted with a wave.

“Guys this is Ichigo Kurosaki,” Yuji gestured to him. “We met him a couple nights ago trying to kill a curse.”

“These are the second years,” Yuji motioned to the three others.

“I’m Maki,” a tall green-haired woman said, regarding him stoically. She held a long staff.

“I’m Panda.” Huh? “This is Inumaki.”

“Benito flakes,” Ichigo raised his eyebrows as he turned to the shorter kid, who waved at him.

“He’s a cursed speech user, so he doesn’t say much,” the Panda offered to clarify of the odd behavior. As if Inumaki was the one Ichigo needed explained.

“Well, let’s get back to it,” Maki turned to him. “How about you show us what you got.”

I’d rather not.

“How about I just watch for today,” Ichigo turned away and sat on the ground. He didn’t know what their limits were and didn’t feel like accidentally injuring them.

“Wha--,” Maki fumed. “If you’re going to try to get stronger, why are you even here!?”

Ichigo just shrugged in response. There was a time in his life that he would’ve wanted to prove himself to these people, but he’d grown past that.

His response didn’t seem to be popular among the sorcerers, who regarded him with various levels of distaste. Only Yuji seemed to be happy he was there still. Though he really couldn’t tell what Inumaki was thinking.

After a bit, everyone else seemed to elect to ignore his presence and went back to training.

Ichigo was content to watch the sparring matches, as he really didn’t know what the sorcerers were capable of.

Nobara and Inumaki were on the sidelines goading them on. Well, Nobara was doing the goading and Inumaki was yelling incoherent rice ball ingredients, but that seemed to be the equivalent for him.

Yuji squared off against the panda. Panda was skilled and seemed to be giving Yuji pointers throughout their brawl. But what really surprised Ichigo was how incredibly powerful the pink haired kid was. He wasn’t that big, but his punches seemed to rival that of Chad’s. And he was fast. He seemed to be faster than most officers, save captains and lieutenants. If the kid knew how to flash step, he’d be a monster.

Ichigo turned his attention to where Fushiguro and Maki were sparring. Fushiguro had switched out the black sword Ichigo had seen him use earlier for a similar sized wooden sword. Maki wielded a long wooden staff. Maki seemed to have the edge in the fight. She was agile and inhumanly strong, and able to twist out of the way of whatever Fushiguro threw at her. Fushiguro was good, but seemed to overanalyze every single move Maki was making. Against a lesser opponent he would’ve been fine, but Maki was too fast. Ichigo had seen this before. Fushiguro was fighting like Uryu, who had to have every course of action mapped out before moving an inch. If Zangetsu taught him anything, planning could only get you so far. Fushiguro needed to get out of his head and rely on his instincts.

Ichigo debated getting up and giving his two cents. He really didn’t want to get involved, but if they were fighting monsters, a moments hesitation could get them killed.

----

Fushiguro ducked under a swipe from Maki’s staff, and swung his sword toward her feet, trying to force an opening in her guard. She used her staff to vault herself in the air, dodging the swipe and coming down on his head. He dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding the strike but unable to escape the follow up kick to his torso. He fell to the ground and huffed.

“So what’s his deal anyway,” Maki offered him a hand, nodding towards Ichigo who had been watching their brawl.

“I don’t know,” Megumi signed, allowing himself to be pulled up. “Gojo insisted we bring him here, but I have no idea why. He doesn’t even have any cursed energy.”

“It’s hard to make sense of anything that man does,” Maki agreed. “He’s pissing me off, though.”

The offending man had gotten up and seemed to be making his way over.

“Oy, Fushiguro,” Ichigo said when he reached them.

“Yeah?” Fushiguro turned toward him. Fushiguro noticed that he’d been watching him and Maki fight but didn’t know where this was going.

“You’re slow.”

“…what,” Fushiguro bit out through gritted teeth. Ichigo had been too scared to spar, but now wanted to give him pointers?

“You’re thinking too much,” Ichigo continued, not seeming to mind the glare Fushiguro leveled at him. “You were anticipating her moves. Anytime Maki switched up, you lagged behind. You have good reflexes, but you need to get out of your head.”

Fushiguro was about to hit him with the wooden sword—see what he thought about how slow he was, when—

“You know, he’s right,” Maki said, a hand to her chin thoughtfully. “Anytime I thought I telegraphed my moves too much, it was easy to get you if I changed up at the last second. You were doing better when I was trying to conceal my movements.”

Fushiguro glared at Maki while Ichigo nodded thoughtfully.

“Yeah, you couldn’t analyze what she was trying to do, so you relied on your instinct,” Ichigo turned back to him. “Lean into that and you’ll get stronger.”

Fushiguro was still pissed, but if Maki noticed it too then it was probably true. And, this was the most he’d heard out of Ichigo in the short time he’d known the older teen.

“Hey, how did you know—" Fushiguro started.

“Hey where’s the new guy?” a new voice entered the training field.

“Hm?” Ichigo turned toward the voice.

A total meathead of a man with short hair pulled back into a ponytail advanced toward him with a serious look on his face. Ichigo immediately disliked him.

“I have a question I need to ask you,” the man stopped in front of Ichigo.

“What do you want?” Ichigo regarded him with a scowl, unimpressed.

“What kind of woman is your type?”

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

“What kind of woman is your type?” the man asked him, no trace of humor in his tone, despite his question.

“What?” Ichigo regarded the man, scowling.

“I asked what—”

“Fuck off Todo,” Maki interrupted him with a glare. “Leave the newbies alone.”

“A man’s taste in women will tell you everything you need to know about him,” the man, Todo, continued, despite everyone seemingly ready to punch him.

At this point in Ichigo’s life, he’d encountered enough batshit insane people that he’d could usually pick them out. Everyone he’d encountered at Jujutsu High seemed to fit the bill, but this guy wasn’t even making it hard.

“People with boring taste in women are boring people themselves,” Todo droned on, and Ichigo’s eye began to twitch.

“That’s none of your business,” Ichigo said nonchalantly, picking gunk out of his ear.

The rest of the students seemed to place themselves between Ichigo and Todo.

“I could just tell by looking at you,” Todo stood back, starting to sniffle. “You’re boring.”

“What the—” Ichigo startled as a tear dropped from the man’s eyes.

“Here we go again,” Fushiguro muttered under his breath.

As they all seemed to tense for a fight, Ichigo strode past them. As he approached the man he paused, reaching into the sash Fushiguro had given him. He looked down at the dagger and up to the man before him.

“This the guy?” Ichigo looked at Fushiguro expectantly.

“Yep, that’s him,” Fushiguro said with the extreme dryness that Ichigo was realizing was his default.

Ichigo scowled down at the dagger and tossed it to the side.

---

As grateful Yuji was to Todo for helping him get stronger amidst the attack on the school, the man was one of the more insane people at the school.

“Ichigo, Todo’s really strong we should prob—” Yuji made an attempt at warning him.

“Don’t worry, I got this,” Ichigo looked completely comfortable, despite staring down a man a couple inches taller and many pounds heavier than him.

Ichigo’s demeanor nearly convinced Yuji that he did indeed have this. But Ichigo didn’t have any cursed energy to back up his punches so a fist fight with Todo was a really bad idea.

“What’s your name?” Todo inquired. “I like to know the names of all the boring men I beat half to death.”

“Ichigo Kurosaki,” he replied, cracking his knuckles.

Todo flashed a feral grin and charged. Yuji made a move cut him off, but Ichigo just held a hand up.

Ichigo stood his ground. The instant before Todo’s arm could clothesline him, he ducked, and just as quickly spun an elbow into the back of the man’s head. The momentum of Todo’s charge and the force of the strike sent him to the ground.

Everyone else, waiting for the newbie to end up laying ass-up on the ground, gaped.

“Wow! Nice reflexes, kid!” Panda moved to give Ichigo a fist-bump.

“Salmon,” Inumaki nodded along in agreement.

---

Todo took approximately 0.05 seconds to process in his inner world of self-reflection.

Had the orange-haired teen got lucky?

“Are you sure? Think about what he did when you were charging him,” Takada reminded him gently, peering down at him.

“He stood his ground and showed no fear,” Todo responded, bringing a hand to his chin.

“Hmmm…, why would he do that?” Takada sat down beside him and tilted her head at him.

“Either he underestimated me as an opponent, or he didn’t, but just got lucky.”

“Maybe there’s another option you’re forgetting,” Takada hummed along twirling her hair between her fingers.

Takada stood up in front of Todo and raised a finger.

“First, we know that most people, lucky or not, would not have reacted fast enough to dodge you. Second, we know that Gojo recently recruited someone under secretive circumstances. And finally, Yuji-kun warned him and he still chose to face you head-on.”

“So, there’s something we don’t know about him.”

“What could it be?” Takada prodded him.

“He wasn’t training with the others when I approached. He either thinks he doesn’t need the training or doesn’t want to showcase his abilities in front of the others.”

Todo snapped his fingers as a light went off in his head.

“Both options lead to the same conclusion, he has a secret he does not trust everyone enough to reveal.”

---

When pineapple head peeled himself off the ground, it was like Ichigo had knocked a new personality into him. He no longer exuded overconfidence, but approached him calmly, like a man on a mission.

“Why don’t you train with the others?” the man asked. What?

“Just getting a feel for things,” Ichigo responded, wondering where the question came from. Not that his first question made any more sense.

There was an extended pause that had Ichigo feeling almost self-conscious.

“Well, that’s bullshit,” Maki piped in. “Anyone who can lay Todo out isn’t ‘just getting a feel for things,’ he’s one of the strongest people here.”

Maki was looked at him with her eyes narrowed and everyone seemed to be nodding along in agreement.

Ichigo sighed to himself. He was never very good at being deceptive.

“You are strong, yet you pretend not to be.”

So maybe he wasn’t a total idiot.

“I don’t know, maybe you’re just not as good as you think you are,” Ichigo responded. Hey, he didn’t claim to be completely matured.

“Brother,” Todo wiped a tear from his cheek. “You don’t have to hide anything from me. We’ve known each other for so long, you know you can trust me by now.”

Eh… maybe he spoke too soon.

“I will respect your choice for now, brother,” Todo gave him a small bow and retreated from the training ground.

…

“What hell was his deal?” Ichigo turned to look at the others.

But, judging by the looks they were giving him, it wasn’t Todo’s deal that they were concerned with.

Chapter Text

After Ichigo’s little scuffle with Todo, the students at Tokyo Jujutsu High seemed to be a bit more wary of him.

Ichigo needed to stop messing around and do what he came to the school to do. Namely, figure out whoever the fuck was trying to get after him, preferably without the geezers here trying to execute him or steal Orihime away. He needed to have a chat with Gojo asap.

Maki had taken it upon herself to walk him back to his room. Ichigo suspected she wanted to keep an eye on him, but he figured he might as well take advantage of the opportunity to find out more about cursed energy.

“So…,” Ichigo queried lazily, trying to break the frigid air between them. “what’s your gimmick?”  He wasn’t expecting to get much of an answer.

“My gimmick?” she side-eyed him as they continued to walk.

“You’re, uh, technique or whatever you guys call it?” Ichigo continued, unsure. “I mean Yuji punches things, Nobara’s got her freaky hammer, and Fushiguro’s got that badass black sword he swings around.”

Maki snorted.

“So, Megumi hasn’t shown you his shikigami then, has he?”

Ichigo nearly choked on air.

“His what now?”

“The curses he summons as familiars?” the look Maki gave him was more puzzled than suspicious at this point.

“He can summon curses?” Ichigo was now realizing that he’d misheard, and no, Fushiguro could not, in fact, summon Shinigami.

“Yeah, it’s a powerful hereditary technique passed down through the Zenin Clan bloodline,” Maki sounded like she ate something bitter as she said the words.

“Uh,” Ichigo was confused. He didn’t know what he’d said to piss her off. “… alright?”

“I know what you’re thinking, no, I can’t do it too,” she’d stopped in her tracks and turned to glare at him.

Ichigo wasn’t sure how he was supposed to communicate that no, that wasn’t what he was thinking and actually, he had no clue what she was talking about. He held his hands up in what he hoped was a placating gesture.

Maki sighed and turned to continue walking.

“You see these glasses?” she asked as she pulled them from her face. “I can’t see curses without them. I actually don’t have any cursed energy at all. So … to answer your earlier question, I don’t have a ‘gimmick’ at all.”

Ichigo was confused at first, but things were slowly piecing together.

“Oh, so you use one of these things,” Ichigo pulled out the dagger that he’d previously tossed aside. It still felt gross just to be holding it.

“Yep,” Maki said rolling her eyes. “Though, it would have to be a life-or-death situation before I’d use anything imbued with Todo’s cursed energy.”

Ichigo scowled at that, reminded of the meathead he’d met earlier that day.

“It feels disgusting just touching it,” Ichigo admitted. “It radiates arrogance.”

“You can feel that?” her tone turned somewhat accusing.

“Yeah, is that a bad thing?”

“To be able to see curses and sense cursed energy, you have to have some sort of curse abilities,” Maki continued.

“Well…,” Ichigo sighed. “I don’t think I have cursed energy, but I do have something.”

Ichigo wasn’t doing a great job of not revealing his hand, but he figured that if he really wanted information out of these people, he’d have to give in a little. Whatever.

“What can you do then?” Maki seemed to abandon her skepticism in favor of curiosity.

“What about you?” Ichigo deflected, steering the conversation away from himself. “You don’t have any of these fancy techniques, but people here seem to look up to you.”

“You won’t give me anything, but you want me to spill my guts all over,” Maki rolled her eyes at him.

Ichigo just shrugged in response.

“My clan was ashamed of me and tried to stop me from becoming a sorcerer. So, I’m going to become the most powerful and become the clan head, cursed energy or not” Maki sounded nonchalant, but Ichigo could hear the determination in her voice.

“So, you’re telling me you chose to come here to fight monsters and risk dying to prove a point,” Ichigo summarized.

“It was either that or live the rest of my life as a servant,” Maki glowered at him.

There was a certain art to making people mad to avoid talking about uncomfortable topics, even if unintentional.

“… sorry,” Ichigo amended looking away. “I guess I’ve always just wanted to live a normal life, but that makes sense.”

Ichigo gazed out at the sun setting over the sprawling campus.

“Fucking nobles and the sticks up their asses,” Ichigo grunted to himself.

At that Maki snorted and seemed to cool off a bit.

“Maki, you seem to be looking out for your friends by coming here and interrogating me,” Ichigo paused and gave her a small, but genuine, smile. “But I know as little about you as you know about me, and I’m not sure what to make of all this yet, so I think I’m going to keep a couple of things to myself.”

Ichigo turned to continue walking, leaving Maki behind.

----

Maki didn’t really know what to make of Ichigo. Her initial impression of him wasn’t great. For lack of a better term, she though he was a pussy, sitting on the sidelines his first day. He’d sat and watched them all spar, eyeing them with a bored look on his face, making him that much more infuriating.

But then he’d strut over and told Fushiguro exactly what was wrong with his fighting style, something Maki had been piecing together in the back of her mind through training with him days on end, but never quite put together.

Then he had laid out Todo. Maki wouldn’t lie, she was a bit disappointed. After hearing that Ichigo had no cursed energy, she thought she finally had someone to relate to. But Ichigo wasn’t like her. She didn’t know exactly what his deal was, but he was different.

She put some tentative trust in him after his rather vague admission, but then he turned around and immediately pissed her off, basically calling her reason for becoming a sorcerer childish. So what if she was fueled by spite, it’s not like he gave her a better reason for being there.

But then he looked rather wistfully at the setting sun and apologized, telling her that he’d always wanted a normal life. He went from weak uninterested jerk, to suspicious uninterested jerk, to slightly less suspicious uninterested jerk with a side of genuine personality.

Maki’s cheeks were still a little pink from his parting words when she remembered that she forgot what she came here to tell him.

“Wait, Ichigo!” Maki called after his retreating form. “You have your first mission tomorrow!”

Chapter Text

The first thing that Ichigo realized after spending an hour crammed in a car with Yuji, Nobara, and Fushiguro, was that they were nosy little shits.

“So how long have you been able to see curses? Have you seen them your entire life?” Yuji questioned him. The nice thing about Yuji, though, was that his questions seemed to come entirely from curiosity, not the suspicion that he got from everyone else.

“Erm… something like that.” Ichigo didn’t think that he’d seen a curse before coming to Tokyo, but he’d been able to see ghosts his entire life. Well, most of his entire life. Thanks, Aizen.

Well, if he had seen a curse, he probably mistook it for a hollow and killed it all the same. Except Uryu probably would’ve noticed a hollow without a hollow hole. Huh. It probably had something to do with Kisuke.

“How are you not dead then?” Nobara asked bluntly.

“Eh …”

“You couldn’t even exorcise that second-grade curse when we first met.” Fushiguro piped in.

Megumi’s aloof demeanor might’ve fooled him, but he was almost the worst of them all. While Nobara and Yuji were upfront about all prodding questions now that they had him trapped in car for the foreseeable future, Fushiguro was the one who kept calling him on his bullshit. Ichigo did the best to satiate them with vague answers and shrugs. But, though his eyes never left his phone screen or the rolling scenery, Fushiguro caught on to every little inconsistency.

Ichigo just put his headphones in and made a show of taking a nap for the remainder of the ride.

Ichigo wanted to have a chat with Urahara. Ichigo had a not-so-sneaking suspicion that Urahara probably already knew who was coming after him but wondered why he had Ichigo jumping through all these hoops.

Hell, he’d even take Uryu at that point. Though you had to sift through the insults and snobbery to get there, the four-eyes gave pretty solid advice.

For now, he’d keep up his lame attempt at being the mysterious new recruit.

When they’d finally made it to their destination, Ichigo almost cried in relief being able to get his own space back.

Ichigo stretched and pulled on his new long navy coat, scoffing as he remembered how he got it.

(“Have you seen Gojo? I need to talk to him.” Ichigo asked the second years who’d been lounging about in the cafeteria.

Maki pointed over her shoulder to a table in the corner.

Ichigo strode over, intending to finally get some real answers out of him.

“Ichigo!” the white-haired man jumped up as he saw him. “Just the guy I was looking for.”

“Hey, I have some quest—”

“Look!” Gojo shoved a bag at him.

Ichigo peered inside the bag. It was … clothes?

Yuji and Nobara bounded over. Fushiguro kept a more sedate pace but joined them all the same.

“Oh my god!” Nobara giggled, with stars in her eyes. “Try it on! Try it on!”

“Wow, it looks so cool!” Yuji nodded along with her.

At first, Nobara reminded him of Rukia with her calling Yuji an idiot every five seconds, but alas, when she and Yuji got rolling together, they had the combined brainpower of Kon.

“What is this?” Ichigo asked, pulling a navy pantleg out of the bag.

“It your Jujutsu uniform.” Fushiguro supplied, grabbing the coat out of the bag and pointing to the golden button on the collar. “It helps others identify us as sorcerers out in the field.”

“Oh, alright,” Ichigo looked down at the long coat and pants. Ichigo had to admit, it did look pretty cool. The boots were sick.

But he’d come here for a reason. A reason that was retreating across the cafeteria.

“Hey wait up—” Ichigo called across the room.

“What’s this?” Yuji pulled the coat from Fushiguro’s hands and fingered a very-familiar red braided sash.

Oh. Ichigo had almost forgotten that Gojo had seen his Soul Reaper uniform. Ichigo looked up to see Gojo flash him a grin and wink as he strode out of the room.

“Don’t be too weirded out. Gojo likes to fulfill his long-lost dream of being a fashion designer on his students.”)

Ichigo followed behind the trio into a haunted house, the first place their mission was to begin in. Apparently, they were after a special-grade cursed object, which repelled curses away from places with negative energy, until it didn’t. Made total sense, sure.

In the car, Ijichi had explained that there was a high migration of mid to high-level curses to this area. The school suspected that the seals on the talismans in either this haunted house, or the juvenile detention center nearby had begun to fail.

Ichigo had convinced Gojo to let him exchange the dagger imbued with Todo’s cursed energy for a longer blade that he was more experienced dealing with. But he’d brought along his combat pass, not wanting a repeat of when he’d first encountered the Jujutsu High students.

How the hell his vacation turned into walking into a haunted house with three other teens, actively seeking out things that would try to kill him, Ichigo didn’t know.

---

Nobara was glad to be out on a mission after having been cooped up at the school for weeks.

However, this was no normal mission. She remembered Gojo’s irritating instructions clearly. The three of them were to carry out the mission as usual, but to keep a close eye out for Ichigo. When she’d asked whether that meant make sure he wasn’t doing anything shady or protect him, Gojo had just told them “eh, whatever you want,” and left it at that.

“Emerge from darkness, blacker still. Purify that which is impure,” Ijichi spoke from behind them.

She glanced at Ichigo from the corner of her eye as the veil descended. He watched the sky with his “what the fuck” expression Nobara had come to know. It happened a couple of times a day. When Ichigo looked to the rest of them not freaking out, he shook his head incredulously and continued behind them. Normie.

“It’s a veil,” Nobara said, rolling her eyes. “It shields what’s inside from the outside world and makes sure normal people can’t see the curses.”

“Okay, cool,” Ichigo seemed to be nonchalant. “How do we get out?”

“Once we exorcise the curses inside, we can pretty much walk out,” Yuji answered, patting Ichigo on the shoulder.

The four entered the building, which seemed to be an old prison. Whoever’s idea it was to open a haunted house in a place where desperation and death were already swimming through the passages needed to be taken out back and repeatedly kicked in the face. They were just asking for it to be a wellspring of curses and intentionally making their jobs harder.

“We should split up,” Fushiguro suggested, looking down through the two long corridors that split the building in two.

“Yeah, let’s not take all day,” Nobara agreed, catching Fushiguro’s eye with her easy compliance. “I’d like to get some shopping done before we head back.”

Though outwardly she usually seemed bullheaded, Nobara could catch on to what Fushiguro was doing. The question now was who was going to go with Ichigo?

Chapter Text

“I’ll go with Kugisaki!” Yuji yelled and grabbed Nobara’s arm, dragging her down the corridor to the left.

“—what?” Kugisaki yelped, being dragged along. Ichigo looked on, a bit confused and turned to Fushiguro.

“Something I said?” Ichigo asked, gesturing toward the fleeing figures. If he was being honest, Ichigo probably would have preferred to be partnered up with Yuji. Nothing against the other two, but he would be subject to either an interrogation with Fushiguro or a hammer with Kugisaki.

“Get your hands off me!” Ichigo heard Kugisaki yell in the distance, with a groan of pain following close behind.  

“Probably not, he’s just weird,” Fushiguro said in a flat tone, though the slightly perplexed look on his face betrayed him. “Everything rolls off his back pretty easily…” usually. Ichigo sensed the unspoken word.

“You ready?” Fushiguro questioned, though already walking down their designated derelict hallway.

“As I’ll ever be.”

Not really, for reasons completely unrelated to curses. Ichigo sighed and followed behind.

--

Nobara walked alongside Yuji, albeit at a much more sedate pace than what he’d dragged her away at.

Yuji pouted and rubbed his arm. Served him right.

“Alright spit it out,” Nobara turned to Yuji and poked a finger in his face. “You’re acting like a total weirdo.”

“You always say that” Yuji complained, slumping his shoulders.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” Nobara snapped and rolled her eyes at him. “Weirder than normal, if that’s possible. I mean, what was that? You charm the pants off everyone you meet, it’s disgusting. You became BFFs with a guy who was sent to kill you--”

“—Todo’s not my best friend,” Yuji whined.

“Stop changing the subject,” she said and whacked him upside the head.

“You literally just said—”

“—but now you take the first opportunity to get away from Kurosaki. He’s doesn’t have the first clue about cursed energy, usually you’d jump at the chance you to bond over shared stupidity.”

Nobara glanced over at Yuji’s face. He looked mildly alarmed, like he was trying to come up with a good excuse.

“Oh–! Well, you know how Gojo said that we should keep an eye on him right?” Yuji blabbed on. “Fushiguro is good at all the strategizing and stuff, so I figured it would be best to leave it to him … yeah.” Yuji nodded and trailed off.

Nobara rolled her eyes.

“Don’t tell me you grew a brain in the last five minutes.” Nobara said, deadpan. “You never think things like that through beforehand and we didn’t even plan on splitting up.”

A pause. Then Itadori sighed.

“You don’t think it’s a bit weird?” Itadori said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Like … he came out of nowhere and just happened to be right next to us when a cursed came out of nowhere.”

“…You think he brought the curse to us?” Nobara asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Uhhh, maybe?”

“So what? He could make a show of pretending to rescue us and then leave us to do all the work?” she said with a mix of sarcasm and skepticism. Nobara could admit the events of their meeting Kurosaki were a bit unusual, but Itadori’s theory needed some work.

“Okay, maybe not,” Itadori scratched the back of his head, embarrassed. Nobara leveled him with an unimpressed look.

“But it’s not just that! He, like--” Yuji made hand signs that Nobara didn’t even bother trying to decipher. “--like, never gives away anything about himself. Never answers any questions with more than just a word or a shrug.”

“Fushiguro is pretty much the same way,” Nobara pointed out.

“I mean, yeah, but that’s just Fushiguro.” Yuji said like that cleared everything up. It sort of did. “Even Maki said he admitted to not telling us everything.”

Nobara turned a bit more serious, concerned for her friend.

“The fact that you’re even thinking this off for you, Itadori. You, who felt bad about killing a curse user--who was literally trying to decay our bodies into dust--suspicious because the guy wants a little privacy?”

Nobara looked to his face, searching for something that might give her a window into his brain. Likely a frightening place.

“Ugh. I don’t know,” Yuji turned away from her, releasing a groan of pent-up frustration. “Let’s just get this over with,”

Nobara just sighed and followed along. Itadori wasn’t good at keeping things bottled up. She’d know soon enough.

--

Ichigo kept pace beside Fushiguro as they strolled the hallways of the prison-turned-haunted-house.

“The report estimated that the curses spirits here are likely grade two, maybe semi-grade one at max,” Fushiguro grumbled along, then swiftly turned to him. “You do know what that means, right?”

“Yeah, I got the rundown from Gojo,” Ichigo assured him.

“That doesn’t reassure me in the slightest.”

Ichigo snorted at that.

“Anyways,” Fushiguro continued, and nodded down to the katana in Ichigo’s hand. “How good are you with that?”

“I can handle myself,” Ichigo confirmed, though he couldn’t help but wish for something a little larger. The weight felt off in his hand.

Fushiguro huffed out a sigh beside him.

“Look, I’m not trying to get you to confess to a murder here,” Fushiguro leveled him with a serious, slightly agitated, stare. “I need an accurate gauge of your abilities before we get in too deep. These missions tend to go off the rails.”

Ichigo knew that Fushiguro was a nosy little bitch, but he sensed the question for what it was. Fushiguro knew fuck-all about what Ichigo could do and wanted to know how much of his attention he had to dedicate to making sure Ichigo didn’t end up curse food.

“Awe Fushiguro, you do care,” Ichigo teased, patting him on the shoulder. Fushiguro shoved his hand away but didn’t deny it.

“Whatever,” Fushiguro muttered, almost to himself.

“Fushiguro,” Ichigo cut him off with an amused smile. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Kurosaki,” Fushiguro stopped in front of him, with a piercing stare. “If it turns out there is a special grade here, you run like hell.”

“I wouldn’t just leave y—” Ichigo scowled, a little offended Fushiguro would assume he would ditch him to save his own skin.

“No. You run,” Fushiguro was insistent now, mouth pressed in a hard line. “I’ve already watched one comrade die in front of me and it’s not something I’d like to do again.”

Ichigo’s protests died before leaving his mouth.

Until now, the whole curse business had been a somewhat amusing nuisance to Ichigo. Though objectively he realized this, it hadn’t really sunk in that hunting down curses was Fushiguro and the others did. A job like that was bound to come with some losses, but knowing that and having a teen a year or two his junior look him in the eye and tell him he didn’t want to witness his death because it was an unpleasant thing he’d already had to deal with, were two completely different things.

Fushiguro seemed to mistake Ichigo’s shocked revelation as a realization that death was a real possibility on this mission. Satisfied that he’d scared Ichigo into submission, Fushiguro nodded to himself and continued down the shoddy hallway.

Ichigo would let Fushiguro believe that he conceded, he resolved that there was absolutely no way in hell he would be leaving Fushiguro behind.

Chapter Text

It was both infuriating and useful that his vessel was a complete idiot.

Kurosaki. He was a problem, that one.

Before, when his physical human body had died, Sukuna had existed as a soul. The jujutsu sorcerers had gotten to work trying to destroy his body and the power it still held, ignorant of havoc he wreaked in his new form.

That’s when the first soul reaper came along. Rambling about passing on to a better place.

He’d killed the first one with ease, his techniques working in death as they had in life. He had no interest in the afterlife. Sukuna still had this world to bring to its knees.

But after the first, came a slightly stronger second. And then a third. And then a fourth.

It had been fun, at first, to kill each one as they kept getting stronger and stronger. However, it seemed that the Soul Society, as they had called it, had an endless supply fodder to throw at him. After a bit, Sukuna grew bored.

Then, they started talking to their swords. That had been an exciting new challenge.

But then the sorcerer pissants figured out how to start sealing his power, and with each finger they sealed, his techniques became less powerful.

Upon the fourteenth finger sealed, and the third soul reaper to talk to their sword, Sukuna had nearly been defeated.

At that point, he’d moved on and avoided the soul reapers. If what they said was true, and they had succeeded in killing him, he’d be gone from this world for good. Sukuna knew that eventually, as all seals do, the ones containing his power would weaken eventually. Though he may have to wait, the day would come, that some poor idiot seeking his power would unleash him. They would become his new body, his vessel.

Though the devastation he wrought as a soul had been fun, it was far more satisfying to hear his victim’s screams in the flesh.

…But now, irritating brat of a vessel and all, he’d already encountered another soul reaper.

Kurosaki was different from the other soul reapers, though. Nobody had been able to see the other ones he’d cut down.

Though Kurosaki could interact with the living world, Sukuna could still sense the familiar energy that marked a soul reaper swirling within him. Along with something else.

He wasn’t sure why the sorcerers thought Kurosaki didn’t have power of his own.

Defeating him wouldn’t be a problem, Sukuna knew he could crush the teen to dust. He’d watched Kurosaki struggle with a weak little curse through the brat’s eyes. But the issue was, whenever Sukuna killed one of the feeble little soul reapers, there always seemed to be another to take their place. He didn’t need them interfering with his plans.

He needed Kurosaki gone.

That’s where his dumb little vessel came into play.

Sukuna had been sowing the seeds of doubt since Itadori had met him. It helped that Kurosaki was a shady little bastard all on his own.

Though the brat’s trusting personality was getting in the way, Sukuna would continue to manipulate his protective nature and plant suspicions within his mind.

--

After walking the hallways for a couple minutes, Fushiguro and Kurosaki had yet to encounter any curses. They shined flashlights into the various cells, but nothing was jumping out at them yet. Fushiguro was beginning to get suspicious. The place was supposed to be crawling with them.

Kurosaki wasn’t a source of entertainment either. Even sidestepping topics that he was curious about to avoid seeming too suspicious, having a conversation with Kurosaki was almost as difficult as having a conversation with Inumaki. It didn’t help that Fushiguro was pretty anti-social to begin with. Perhaps he should’ve insisted that Yuji go with Kurosaki, even if Yuji may not have picked up on as much.

“Hey, Megumi,” Ichigo surprised him, initiating the conversation. “Maki said that you can summon curses to fight for you. How does that work?”

“Yeah, summoning shikigami is part of my technique,” Fushiguro answered.

“Oh yeah, Maki said you’re a part of a big sorcerer clan with fancy techniques.”

“I’m not actually. My father left the clan before I was born,” Fushiguro said through a sigh. He would prefer not to be associated with the pretentious assholes.

“That makes sense,” Kurosaki said with a wry smile on his face. Fushiguro wasn’t sure what he found funny.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Fushiguro asked, giving him a side eye.

“I don’t know. You haven’t mentioned ‘honor’ or ‘duty’ yet. And you’re lacking the stick up your ass I normally associate with nobles.”

“You’ve met Kamo, then?” Fushiguro asked sarcastically.

“Nope, just know the type,” Kurosaki laughed slightly to himself, as if he were having a private inside joke.

God, Fushiguro couldn’t get through a five-minute conversation with Kurosaki without having a million more questions. It made Kurosaki sound like some sort of heir? Fushiguro was pretty sure he came from a modest background. How did he have experience with noble families? Fushiguro just huffed to himself.

“Anyways, we’re probably wasting our time walking around like this, my shikigami can help us sniff out any abnormal cursed energy around.”

“Uh, alright…” Ichigo pointed his flashlight over at Fushiguro in the dimmed hallway, apparently more curious than he’d originally let on.

Fushiguro held out his hands in a crude mime of a dog. Ichigo’s hold on the flashlight turned toward his hands, and Fushiguro was a bit offended when Ichigo’s eyebrow raised, completely unimpressed.

“You’re telling me you make shadow puppets to summon your shikigami?” Ichigo asked, deadpan, gesturing to the childish projection of a dog on the wall behind created by the flashlight.

Kurosaki was really an infuriating kind of guy. It was a bit satisfying when he jumped back when his demon dog came from the shadows.

“Oh, so literally shadow puppets,” Kurosaki said, hand retreating from his sword. Fushiguro’s mouth quirked at that, but he just rolled his eyes at Kurosaki.

“We’re looking for a cursed object, boy,” Fushiguro addressed his shikigami who was sitting at attention at his feet. “See if you can sniff it out.”

Fushiguro scratched the wolf behind its ears before standing up straight. Demon dog jumped up and began sniffing at the air. And then turned directly to Kurosaki.

The curse lowered its head and approached the confused teen. It circled around him sniffing at his feet.

“It’s not going to bite me, is it?” Kurosaki asked, scowling as demon dog began a low growl.

Fushiguro’s eyes narrowed. What was demon dog picking up on? Fushiguro would have been able to sense if Kurosaki somehow had a cursed object on him.

Fushiguro looked up at Kurosaki suspiciously, but the teen looked as confused as Fushiguro felt. When Kurosaki glanced up from the curse back to him, his face morphed from confusion to frustration.

“Hey, it’s your dog, what the hell am I supposed to do?” Ichigo shook his head, tone exasperated.

Ugh, this guy was going to drive him to insanity. Fushiguro just filed the information away for later and motioned for demon dog to back away. The shikigami reluctantly drew back from Kurosaki and resumed sniffing at the corridor.

--

After Fushiguro’s pet monster had joined their little team, they ended up finding quite a few curses. Ichigo was slowly getting used to the reach of the katana. The blade wasn’t nearly as long as Zangetsu, but he was making do.

What they had run into so far hadn’t given them any trouble. Fushiguro was pretty good with his sword, but his real strength was working in tandem with his shikigami. Ichigo understood now why Megumi fought the way he fought. Having to give his shikigami commands forced him to analyze as he attacked. He was creating openings for the curse and the curse was creating openings for him. If Fushiguro was occupied with a stronger opponent, the curse would guard his back to deal with the small fry. Unlike Ichigo, Fushiguro couldn’t confine his concentration to his own movements.

After dispatching a number of curses, Fushiguro had finally stopped glancing back at him every five seconds. Ichigo counted it as a win. He really didn’t act like it, but Fushiguro was a big softie. However, Ichigo could do without the constant checking up on him, especially since it broke Fushiguro’s concentration. Ichigo wasn’t really pulling any fancy moves, just basic swordsmanship he’d learned from Urahara way back when.

He felt a little guilty though. Ichigo didn’t want to be responsible for Fushiguro getting hurt. But he probably couldn't totally convince Fushiguro that he could hold his own without revealing some of his spiritual powers. Ichigo thumbed the pendant hanging around his neck. Would it really be so bad to reveal the spiritual world to people that already fought invisible monsters for a living?

“Fuck,” Megumi’s rigid tone brought Ichigo out of his internal turmoil. “Damn it.”

“What’s wrong?” Ichigo was instantly on alert.

“Fuck!” Megumi kicked a piece of aluminum discarded on the floor. “Look around.”

Ichigo noticed that the room that they’d entered didn’t quite look like the ones they’d been venturing through before. The ceilings were a bit too high; the windows no longer allowed the afternoon light to show through. Ichigo’s skin prickled, he felt an undercurrent of something all around him.

“We’ve entered an incomplete domain,” Fushiguro’s grit out, tone not lightened in the slightest. “Now there’s no running away. There has to be a special grade here.”

Oof. The thing that Fushiguro wanted him to flee at the sight of. Well, at least now Fushiguro didn’t get a say in whether to leave him behind.

Ichigo’s eyes darted to the ceiling as he felt energy gathering there.

A figure crashed through the ceiling and landed in front of them, leaving a crater around the impact. The special grade looked a bit like a mummy.

“Kurosaki, get—” Fushiguro warning was cut off as the curse charged at him.

“Focus on yourself!” Ichigo yelled, though not entirely convinced it would do any good.

The curse thrashed at Megumi from all angles. The bandages coming from every part of it and as seemingly as sharp as a sword.

The curse wasn’t content to leave him out of it. It stood back sending an assault of deadly ribbons from every limb.

Fushiguro held his own but was tied up with deflecting all the strikes aimed at him and his shikigami.

Ichigo dodged through the flurry of attacks and advanced to the front of the room, where the curse stood. He deflected the barrage, each strand glancing off his katana.

The bandages were dispersed, giving him an opening to strike at the curse directly. The curse wouldn’t be fast enough to dodge.

As he swung, the curse unraveled itself before he could connect. Several spools wrapped around his arm and sword, pulling taut, immobilizing his arm.

The curse aimed threads at his exposed side.

From the corner of his eye, Ichigo saw Fushiguro race to cover his vulnerable side, but was cut off by another volley.

“Kurosaki!”

Ugh. Fuck it.

Ichigo let loose his control on his spiritual pressure. It rose up under his skin. The pendant on his neck thrummed with energy. Finally outside the tolerance of Kisuke’s widget, he allowed the energy to flow to his sword arm and into the cursed tool.

It seemed to happen in slow motion. Ichigo renewed his swing, with the addition of his spiritual pressure.

However, the katana shattered.  

Ichigo instinctively reached for a short sword at his side, only to come up empty handed. In the midst of the battle, he’d forgotten himself. Forgotten he was in his human body.

“Look out!”

Damn it, this was going to be hard to explain.

As the attack closed in, Ichigo activated his blut.

He had his back to Fushiguro, so Ichigo hoped he couldn’t see the blue lattice racing up to the surface, wherever the curse struck.

Ichigo cautioned a glance back at Fushiguro who was trying to reach him with wild intensity. The curse did not let up and Fushiguro was sacrificing a good defensive position trying to advance toward him. His shikigami barely deflected a strike aimed at his back.

“Megumi,” Ichigo shouted, “give me another fucking sword!”

Snapping out of his daze, Fushiguro reached into the shadows and brought out a spear, wasting no time chucking it at him.

Ichigo caught the shaft midair, and, using the bandages wrapped around him to pull the curse in close, ran it through from top to bottom.

The curse screeched and the wrapping fell away. A grotesque finger clattered to the ground.

“Kurosaki!”

Fushiguro reached him in seconds, grabbing him by the shoulder and scanning him up and down with frantic eyes.

“You—” Fushiguro stuttered out. “You’re alright.”

“Yeah.”

“How?” Fushiguro’s eyebrows pinched together.

“Damn, try not to sound too relieved, Fushiguro,” Ichigo rolled his eyes.

“What the hell was that?” Fushiguro’s tone was no longer breathless with relief but now tight with agitation. “I felt something coming from you. And—how—how did you not get skewered by that last attack?”

Ichigo took a deep breath and let it out.

“Look, I’ll explain,” Ichigo said seriously, meeting Fushiguro’s intense gaze. “Just not right now.”

The veil receded, revealing the worried faces of Kugisaki and Itadori.

--

The four walked away from the now near-destroyed no-longer-haunted house, no worse for wear.

Megumi was exhausted, in both mind and body.

The group took their time meandering toward the street where Ijichi would be pulling up soon.

He thought about Ichigo and his fight with the curse, thinking about what Ichigo could say to make any of this possibly make sense—

“Would you shut up.” Kurosaki’s irritated voice cut through the near silence.

…

“Uh.” Megumi said intelligently, slightly startled at Kurosaki’s outburst.

Megumi’s eyes darted over to meet Kugisaki’s, who’s confused frown and raised brow probably mirrored his own.

A silent conversation passed between the two.

Kugisaki glanced toward Ichigo--who looked extremely irritated all of the sudden—and back to Megumi and raised a brow. What the fuck? Do you know what’s going on with him?

Megumi responded back with a small shake of his head and scowl—no? Why would I?

Kugisaki rolled her eyes and made a small, though exasperated, gesture toward the building they just exited. You just spent two hours exorcising curses with him!

He glanced toward Itadori, expecting to see a similar puzzled look on his face. What he did not expect, however, was Itadori’s head whipped towards Ichigo staring at him, mouth wide open.

“You can—” Yuji gulped and stared slack-jawed, stumbling over his words. “Can you hear him?”

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Yuji and Kugisaki disposed of the low-level curses throughout the building, working like a well-oiled machine, with Kugisaki handling the smaller and airborne curses with a few well-placed nails and Yuji dancing around, hitting everything else that wouldn’t go down so easily.

Kugisaki had abated his worries with Ichigo. Of course he couldn’t trust what Sukuna had to say. The bastard was always trying to get under his skin. Yeah, maybe Kurosaki was a bit shady, but so was everyone else at Jujutsu High.

But, when Yuji suddenly couldn’t sense Fushiguro anymore, he faltered mid-punch. He was rewarded with a nasty cut along his arm for his lapse in concentration. Kugisaki bounded in front of him, smashing her hammer across the curses misshapen head, finally clearing the area of the curses.

“You can feel that too, right?” he turned to Kugisaki, who nodded grimly.

If only you’d listened to me, maybe your friend would be alright.

Kurosaki wouldn’t hurt Fushiguro, would he? Yuji banged a palm against his temple, trying to get his head back on straight. Kugisaki side-eyed him with a raised brow, then rolled her eyes and proceeded to turn down the corridor.

“Let’s go, they might need our help,” she ordered and took off toward the last place they had felt Fushiguro’s cursed energy.

How she could be so certain that Kurosaki wasn’t the one that Fushiguro needed help from, Yuji wasn’t sure. Yuji’s thoughts were spinning a mile a minute as he followed behind Kugisaki with renewed vigor. What would he do if Kurosaki had been the reason Fushiguro’s cursed energy disappeared? Itadori had killed curse users before, but not ones that he’d slept down the hall from.

When they reached about where Fushiguro’s cursed energy had disappeared, Kugisaki’s arm shot out in front of him, and he screeched to a stop to avoid being clotheslined.

“What is it?” Yuji pressed.

“Shit,” Kugisaki stuck her hand forward, through a doorway, her arm disappearing as it crossed the threshold. “It’s an incomplete domain.”

Yuji didn’t have a moment to feel relieved that Kurosaki wasn’t the reason Fushiguro was in trouble, as his dread was quickly replaced with fear for their wellbeing.

“Itadori. Focus!” Yuji’s eyes snapped to Kugisaki’s.

“Fushiguro will be alright. This is an incomplete domain, which means that the curse inside isn’t strong enough for total domain expansion. Fushiguro has dealt with this before, he’ll just be limited by the fact that he doesn’t want Kurosaki to get caught up in his own domain expansion,” Kugisaki pressed her lips into a thin line. “If anything,” she continued, a bit quieter. “Kurosaki is the one we should be concerned about. If it comes down to it, Fushiguro can beat the curse if he doesn’t focus on protecting Kurosaki. That means his best bet is to end things quickly and get Kurosaki to a healer.”

That … made sense. And … also made Yuji feel incredibly guilty. He was over here debating what to do to Kurosaki if he’d laid a hand on Fushiguro’s head, while the guy was probably fighting for his life.

“We need to make sure the area is completely clear so we can get the hell out of here as soon as they’re out,” she announced, her voice gaining conviction.

--

While Yuji felt no small amount of relief when the incomplete domain receded and he was met with the sight of the two tired, yet relatively unharmed, faces of Fushiguro and Kurosaki, he was equal amounts confused.

“Wow, I was expecting to have to clean you up off the floor, Kurosaki,” Nobara held up a fist-bump that Kurosaki, scowling, did not return.

“Ey, what’s that supposed to mean?” Kurosaki’s eye twitched at her.

“How’d you manage to get out of there without getting hurt?” Kugisaki continued, ignoring him.

Fushiguro leveled her with a look that Yuji didn’t really understand, but her eyes narrowed and she gave a small nod.

“We’ll catch you up later—” Fushiguro gave Kurosaki a pointed look. “—let’s just get out of here for now.”

Kurosaki heaved a resigned sigh.

There was something going on here that was going over Yuji’s head. Really, how the hell had Kurosaki managed to make it out of a fight with a special grade with barely a week’s worth of sorcerer training? Yuji remembered being scared shitless when he’d faced off against his first special grade in the juvenile detention center, but Kurosaki was as nonchalant as ever. If anything, Fushiguro seemed more fazed than Kurosaki by the fight.

Fushiguro was tense. He kept glancing at Kurosaki with a furrowed brow. What was making him so antsy? Did something happen while they were in the incomplete domain?

The shikigami user doesn’t trust him.

Yuji couldn’t think straight, and it didn’t help that Sukuna was being even more obnoxious than usual.

He’s hiding something, you ignorant brat. He couldn’t exorcise a measly curse before, but now he can take on a special grade?

That was a bit suspicious. But it didn’t mean that Kurosaki was out to get them.

He wants something. Nobody risks their lives without good reason.

Kurosaki hadn’t really revealed his motivation for joining Jujutsu High, but wasn’t trying to help people good enough for anyone?

Are you really going to let him get close to all your friends?

Fushiguro, though a bit stiff now, was in better shape than Yuji anticipated after a fight with a special grade. If anything, with Kurosaki there, the outcome was better.

He’s just biding his time. You and that girl were here so he couldn’t try anything. What happens when you’re not around to protect them?

Normally, Yuji could tune Sukuna out with chatting with his friends, but the group was unusually quiet as they exited the building. Now he only had his own thoughts and Sukuna’s incessant chatter to keep him company. He really didn’t want to doubt Kurosaki, but he really knew next to nothing about the guy, and Sukuna seemed so sure that he was a threat to his friends. Sukuna was an annoying bastard, but Yuji couldn’t remember a time where he’d lied to him straight up?

Why don’t you kill him while you have the chance? I’ll take over and do it for you.

“Would you shut up.”

Huh? No one was talking.

Yuji hazarded a look back at Kurosaki, only to see him scowling—nope, he’d seen Kurosaki scowl, and that wasn’t it—glaring directly at him.

Except, Kurosaki wasn’t so much glaring at him, but through him. (There’s no fucking way can he—)

“You can—” Yuji’s head was spinning, as he barely strung the words together. “Can you hear him?”

Kurosaki didn’t respond but continued with his intense stare.

Sukuna, for the first time in days, finally quieted.

---

The Soul Society was pretty good about keeping large cities in the human world well-patrolled, so Ichigo hadn’t seen many lingering souls in his time in Tokyo. He’d seen flashes of the Onmitsukidō here and there. Ichigo had been a bit confused at first, given that the patrol of the human world usually consisted of Imoyama-level soul reapers, but it made sense to send the stealth force to an area with a large population of spiritually sensitive people.

The plan was to stay in his human body and leave the hollow-killing to them. He didn’t particularly want to leak his spiritual pressure all over the place and accidentally leave a trail of fullbringers in his wake. Hence Kisuke sending him on his way with a reiatsu-suppressing pendant he’d whipped up in case Ichigo wanted to travel. (Ichigo was beginning to question if he’d ever travel again, if this is what all his vacations ended up being like.)

Ichigo had been lucky enough to avoid any confrontations with hollows. However, there were a few plus souls that hadn’t moved on that he’d noticed in passing. He ignored them. Generally, if ghosts realized you could hear them, they wouldn’t leave you alone. Ichigo had gotten pretty good at ignoring them, from a lifetime of seeing ghosts. Their chatter ended up being like white noise. 

So, when he heard the man’s cutting voice for the first time, it hadn’t even registered.

The voice had been persistently annoyed. That wasn’t uncommon in itself, lots of dead people were pretty annoyed that they were, well, dead. He didn’t pay attention to any of the specifics of what the guy was saying.

But then he heard the spirit say his name. Ichigo paid attention after that. Ichigo had originally thought the spirit that somehow figured out that he could sense it and decided to follow him around like a lost puppy. But when he discreetly looked around, he couldn’t see any spirits lingering.

There was no manifestation that he could see. Ichigo was a bit startled when he realized it was coming from Yuji. Except the voice sounded nothing like Yuji’s. It seemed to be engaged in conversation, but Ichigo was only hearing one side of it.

It was pretty fucking weird, but Ichigo was used to strange things by now. He figured he probably shouldn’t mention it, as it was none of his business and would probably raise questions that Ichigo both didn’t want to get into and didn’t have the answers to.

But, Ichigo had never been particularly good at holding his tongue.

After they’d killed the curses in the prison, the voice got increasingly scathing.

I’ll take over and do it for you.

“Would you shut up,” the words were out of his mouth before Ichigo could stop them. Sue him, maybe involuntary possession was a bit of a sensitive subject for him.

Any thoughts of playing it off were crushed when Yuji whipped around and stared at him, mouth wide open.

“You can—can you hear him?”

Well, at least he wasn’t crazy.

---

“You said you would explain later but explain now,” Fushiguro’s voice cut through the silence that had briefly settled on the group. “You can hear Sukuna?”

“Who the hell is Sukuna?” Ichigo shot back.

“Explain what later?” Yuji demanded.

“Ryomen Sukuna, the King of Curses,” Fushiguro continued, ignoring Yuji.

Ichigo’s mouth twisted into a scowl and let out an unamused snort. “The King of Curses? What kind of fucking pretentious name is that.”

I reign over these creatures, soul reaper brat.

“What’s he talking about?” Yuji interjected. “The hell is a soul reaper?”

Ichigo scoffed. “So, you know what I am, and you still call me a brat?”

“What you are?” Fushiguro asked incredulously.

Oh boy, this conversation was veering into dangerous territory. Damn it, he should’ve just ignored the voice, but hell the guy was irritating.

Your little soul reaper friends send you after me? I’ll destroy every last one of them after I take this body and crush you.

Ichigo tilted his head and said, “Don’t bother. You couldn’t if you tried.”

You foolish weakling! I’ve flayed soul reapers leagues stronger than you, you half-baked—

“Hey!” Kugisaki shouted, silencing the voice—Sukuna, apparently—with a whack to Yuji’s head. “As much as I love playing telephone, can you fill us in? What the hell is going on?”

Ichigo dragged a hand down his face. How to go about this? Apparently, Sukuna knew about soul reapers, so that ship had sailed. Being any more shady about it would just make him look suspicious. But the spirit (curse? Soul? Ichigo didn’t know) didn’t seem to know who Ichigo was. Which made him think that Sukuna’s knowledge of the soul society was a bit outdated.

“Any chance you’re harboring the soul of a dead guy?” Ichigo asked Yuji, testing the waters uneasily.  

“I mean, yeah, I guess,” Yuji shrugged, seeming unsure.

“Yes, Ryomen Sukuna lived as a human over a thousand years ago,” Fushiguro jumped in to provide an explanation. “He was powerful enough that even when his human body died, he still lived on as a curse.”

“Then this makes sense I guess,” Ichigo said through a sigh, and continued at the three confused expressions aimed his way. “I can sense the souls of the dead.”

“You can sense the souls of the dead?” Nobara said deadpan. “Yeah, and I shit butterflies.”

“I couldn’t care less if you believe me or not,” Ichigo nearly groaned. How’d he get himself into this mess? Rukia was going to kick his ass when he saw her next.

It took a moment, but after he’d let that bombshell stew for a bit, he was bombarded with questions.

Oh, thank god, Ichigo thought as he saw Ijichi pulling up.