Work Text:
Yuuji flinched at the harsh smell of a preservative he couldn’t identify as he finally opened the jar holding his brother. He placed the lid on the table, holding the jar in front of him, trying to ignore the movement of the fetus-like blob inside.
“Shoso…” He heard Choso say. “He’s the second youngest, after you,”
“You’re sure this is okay?” Yuuji asked. He felt his oldest brother’s hand on his, squeezing gently.
“Of course… we’ve all agreed to this…” Choso replied. Choso insisted the other death paintings had agreed to this, but Yuuji didn’t know how.
“Its just… they’re your brothers…”
“They’re your brothers too, Yuuji…”
Yuuji didn’t say anything in response, trying to delay things as much as possible. He knew it would be different than the fingers, which somehow made it scarier.
Eating a dismembered finger, something he could convince himself was not alive, was an entirely different horror than this. A fetus, squirming and feeling, sat in front of him.
When he first ate that finger, he wasn’t thinking. It was life or death, and he didn’t entirely care which way it went.
But now…
It was just him, Choso, and the remaining Death Paintings in an abandoned hotel room. No true danger, no risk of death. He could easily walk away, get away from all of this, and die a coward.
He didn’t deserve to make that choice.
“It's just…” Yuuji began but didn’t know how to finish. Choso squeezed his hand again.
“Close your eyes, little brother,” Choso responded. “I’ll take care of everything.”
Yuuji nodded, squeezing his eyes shut and opening his mouth just enough. There was a moment of calm before he felt Shoso being pushed into his mouth.
It burned. Like rubbing alcohol was poured into his mouth, then set alight as it slid down his throat. He couldn’t even focus on the sensation of his brother on his tongue, couldn’t feel him through the thick goop he’d been submerged in.
He desperately swallowed, wanting to get it down before he lost his nerve. He could feel Shoso moving, squirming in an attempt to go somewhere, but not to escape.
Finally, after what felt like forever of it going down his throat, he felt something settle in his chest.
It was nothing like Sukuna.
When he’d consumed Sukuna, it was as if a hole he never knew was there had been filled, in the most painful way possible. As if molten metal had been poured into the cracks in his soul meant just for Sukuna. Every minute of it was defined by hatred and evil, dulling his senses to everything else in the world for days after.
This couldn’t be more different. This felt like coming home.
Tears were welling up in Yuuji’s eyes. This was nothing like the indescribable hatred he’d grown used to.
Never in his life had he felt so loved.
It was warm, gentle, and overwhelming. It felt like warm tea and honey, like a reaffirming hug, like climbing into bed on a cold winter night.
He hadn’t realized his tears had turned to sobs until he felt Choso’s hand in his hair, gently brushing through it.
“Little brother… are you alright?”
Yuuji nodded, unable to speak. He threw his arms around Choso, sobbing into the soft fabric around his neck as Choso hesitantly hugged him back.
He understood Choso now, whenever his older brother had spoke of being able to feel the others. Even before the hug, Yuuji could feel his brother’s blood flowing through his veins, could feel his heart beating as if it was his own.
Choso, Noranso, Sho-oso, Tanso, Sanso, Kotsuso, Shoso, and Yuuji. At that moment, they were all one. Yuuji closed his eyes, breathing in deeply.
“Thank you…” Yuuji whispered. He didn’t know who he was thanking. Choso, Shoso, the world that let him experience this…
“Little brother,” Choso began to speak again, but Yuuji cut him off.
“I’m fine- really…”
Yuuji suddenly let go, feeling as if his heart was trying to jump out of his throat. He rushed to the trash bin, almost slamming his head against the wall.
Something was crawling up his throat. He felt like he was choking.
He coughed once. He coughed again.
Something fleshy forced its way out of his throat, alongside a stream of vomit.
He looked down at the mess, the fetus that was once Shoso lying in a puddle of vomit with specks of blood.
His throat burned. Something was dribbling out of his nose. His hands were shaking, and as he looked down at the blob, he vomited again.
The warmth was still in his chest, Shoso providing his reassurance.
It's okay… I forgive you…
No one had said that aloud, but Yuuji understood that Shoso was trying to soothe him. He realized Choso’s hand was on his back.
“Little brother, your head-”
“’s fine…” Yuuji mumbled. It hurt a bit, but he had a hard head. “I’m fine…”
“You don’t have to lie,”
“I just- I just need a minute…”
Choso nodded, remaining crouched by Yuuji’s side.
After a few minutes, Yuuji was able to force himself to stand, stumbling into the bathroom. He splashed water onto his face and into his mouth, trying to wash away the entire experience.
He stumbled out onto a bed, his face still wet. The burning in his mouth had lessened, now more akin to the time Kugisaki had dared him to lick one a switch game she’d stolen from Inumaki.
He tried to catch his breath. He didn’t feel horrified like he thought he should be. He was just tired.
He could sense Choso looming at the foot of the bed, his brother unaware of how uncomfortable it would make most people. He could sense Choso’s concern.
After a few minutes, Yuuji managed to sit up.
“I- I’m ready…”
“Are you sure?” Choso asked. “You don’t need to push yourself…”
“I am,” Yuuji lied, his voice hoarse. “I- I need to do this…”
Choso seemed skeptical but approached the bed with another jar.
“If you need another break-” Choso began before Yuuji cut him off.
“I know,” Yuuji said. “But I need to do this.”
“If you're sure,” Choso said, picking up another jar. He handed it to Yuuji, who held it between his hands.
“Who is this?” Yuuji asked, fiddling hesitantly with the lid.
“Kotsuso,” Choso replied. “He’s only a bit older than Shoso,”
Yuuji nodded, finally opening the jar. He inhaled deeply, squeezing his eyes shut and holding his breath.
He reached into the jar, his fingers becoming uncomfortably sticky from the liquid Kotsuso was suspended in, quickly pinching it between his fingers and pulling it out. He forced it into his mouth, swallowing as quickly as possible.
It was bigger than the last but went down smoother, not struggling the way Shoso did.
He let out the breath he’d been holding, keeping his eyes shut while the energy settled. It was warm, but somehow different than Shoso’s. He laid back, staring up at the ceiling, breathing deeply.
“Little brother,” Choso began, standing beside the bed, closing the jar again. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” Yuuji said, laying his arm over his eyes. “Just tired…”
“Rest,” Choso said, moving to turn off the lights. “We can continue another day.”
Yuuji wanted to protest, insist he could continue, but he was so, so tired. He hadn’t realized how his entire body ached, trying to adjust. He felt so warm, verging on feverish. He was aware of every blood cell as they flowed through his body. He felt warm, safe, loved, to the point it almost hurt.
“Thank you,” Yuuji said quietly. Again, he didn’t know who he was thanking, but he knew he had to say it.
“Rest, Yuuji,” Choso repeated. “I’m here if you need anything,”
“Thank you,” Yuuji said again. “Thank you...”