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It was all right when it was him.
Itadori didn’t mind bearing the curse that was Sukuna. The freak of nature that latched onto his soul, risking the lives of everyone he loves just by being present. It irked him beyond belief.
As if Shibuya wasn’t enough, the universe had to get one more laugh in, one more prod one more little joke-
But his anger was futile as he stared at the markings that scarred Fushiguro’s face. The infuriating smirk Sukuna shot him.
It looked just like him, it looked exactly like him yet-
it just wasn’t him.
So as he stood there poised next to Maki, the overwhelming sense of dread hung on his heart, spearing into his gut and ripping into his mind. It wasn’t supposed to be Fushiguro.
It wasn’t supposed to be his sacrifice. All the fights Itadori had fought, and lives he gave, all the sacrifices he made, it was all supposed to lead down to..to this…
It wasn’t supposed to be this way.
He knew without a doubt Fushiguro was okay with being sacrificed. Don’t be selfish, don’t choose yourself don’t don’t don’t-
Don’t what? Don’t hold back on killing his-
Itadori choked on blood, sweat dripping into his eyes. He spat the taste of iron out of his mouth, and as he stares at Sukuna’s new vessel, every morsel of his being felt like it was going to explode.
Hadn’t this world taken enough from him already? Must it hurt more people he loved?
His grandfather. Gojo-sensei. Nanamin. Kugisaki.
Megumi.
He told Megumi not to hesitate to rip his heart out, again and again and again. Exorcise him immediately if Sukuna were to escape.
Well, he ripped his heart out.
But Yuji Itadori was still alive.
So with enclosed fists and aching pain,
he leaped forward, ready to kill.