Chapter Text
God, what a deeply pathetic way to die. They could even still taste the ash in their mouth. It was unexpected, yet, still.
Gray hair ruffled with wispy wind, they looked down to their pale coloured skin of a hand and grimaced, again, for the third time within the past 30 minutes. They were currently sitting down on a rock, or maybe it was fallen concrete. Surrounding them were walls of an abandoned mall of a circular shape. The light of the moon glowed softly like an invisible veil by passing the broken dome of glass above them. Composition wise, they know they probably look ethereal, maybe even unreal. Funnily enough, the latter was truer now. Hah.
.
.
Hm, no. It's not very funny actually. Ugh.
What have they been doing sitting around in this deserted building you ask? Questioning reality of course! You don’t exactly die and wake up as an anime character any other day, do you.
Since you’re a bit late, allow yours truly to guide you to how the ever living hell does one be reborn as a psychopathic, and frankly, pathetic excuse of a being. Ignoring the fact that this character was literally made to be an antagonist of course. Because, now, THEY have to be the one who plays this role! The absurdity! The audacity! They can't even kill a fly even if they tried! Now you’re telling them they have to commit an egregious amount of bloodshed?? Oh, jail! Jail for Gege for One Thousand Years !!!
Huh. That one’s a bit funnier. Something told them that they should probably reign their thoughts into more important matters like what to do and where to go next. But, hey! Can’t fault them for being in denial still. It’s only been less than an hour since they died— don'tthinkaboutit. Let them have a bit of a grace period, yeah? Small mercies.
When they first woke up, everything felt wrong. Like something had twisted and broken and prodded all under, in between, and over them, only to then be pieced back together into something else entirely. It lasted a second and no longer. Thank god for that, because if it HAD lasted longer, they…don't really want to think about it actually.
At first it was the texture of their clothes (why is it so rough?), and then their(?) hand that rubbed their face (was it ever so big?) eventually, it was the colour of their skin and the stitches that seemed to be connecting their arms together by the joints.
Breathe. Breathe. You're alright now— Shit.
(They could hear sirens outside. the sterile hospital air being completely replaced by dark smoke. It was coming from beyond their room. Even with all the noise, they could make out human screaming, for help, for help, help me.
The fire and suffocating air reached them first before any sort of saviour did.)
.
.
They should really stop thinking about it.
Flexing their body a bit, stretching their limbs and looking at the moving body parts, it all still doesn't feel real. They wonder if looking in a mirror would further disorient, or solidify whatever shitty bit they’ve gotten themself into. They’re really not in a hurry to find out at all. That being said, let’s just…try to move around a bit. It had been a while since they got to go out on their own and walked around.
They hopped up from their seat, “..hup-” Oh, fuck, was that how they sounded now? Shit. That was weird as hell. “...aahh, hm…? Eeeaahhgg..” They clicked their mouth shut. Hm! Well, wasn't that something.
Whoah, I’m tall now. I'm so tall now!
They did a little twirl and the black coat they have on spun with them. One step at a time, they were getting used to this.
…Sigh. Who were they kidding. They suppose they should really address the elephant in the room. Ripping the bandaid off, they’re Mahito. And if you don't know who he is, he’s an extremely cruel antagonist from the animanga Jujutsu Kaisen. He had killed numerous characters in the story, while dying by another antagonist’s hand. But not before getting beat up by the protagonist. A fitting end, they suppose. Karma and all that.
The important thing is, they don’t want that! None of that! They don't want to die, nor get beat up by the show’s golden boy! Yet, as they stood, they were…a curse. A being who was apparently born from humanity’s hatred towards each other. Just their fucking luck. Why couldn't they have just been, oh they don't know, somebody else! Preferably a NPC!
…Hm. Actually, no. Thinking about it, they’d rather be reborn into another world entirely. Jujutsu Kaisen is not a very merciful show. Not showing any restraint in killing characters or chopping their limbs off whenever the author felt like it. Not even the NPCs were safe. They shiver at the thought of being stuck inside of Shibuya at the wrong time.
The crickets sang their tune and midnight creatures scurried for food, they suppose it’s time they get up and get out there, whatever out there implies. Yet, as soon as they took a step forward from where they had been sitting, a resounding hiss and growl broadcasted that they were clearly not alone this entire time. It came from their left and they whipped their head towards the noise. Whatever God is out there, please don’t let this be a curse. They haven’t even tried to use their…what’s it called? Cursed Technique? Ugh. This was going to be rough.
The growling and hissing turned out to be a dog and a cat fighting over a scrap of meat. Mahito (they suppose that's their name now) tried to coax them to stop fighting by approaching, really he just wanted to pet them both, but an alarm blared in his mind when the two animals didn't even acknowledge him.
Well, that ended in failure and disappointment. Animals can't see curses. How could his life get any worse.
He left the two squabbling mammals to their own devices and decided to explore the mall more. They wondered if it was dangerous to poke their head in willy nilly when anything could VERY easily kill them right now, especially with how dark things are. Maybe they should invest in their combat abilities now rather than later, just in case.
With the little light the moon provided, he could see only the middle of this panopticon-prison-like mall, along with the edges of the stores that's placed opposite of the gaping hole of the building, facing it. He's pretty sure he could make out some frozen escalators somewhere in the building, though.
Dust and sand from fallen stone crunches beneath his shoes and the sound echoed throughout the hallway he’s currently exploring. Of course, he didn't dare to go too deep into the building, fearing for something less than human that could possibly prey on him. The shops with broken signs and crumbling walls offer only the barest of wares, with most having already been taken by brave scavengers he bet.
(He did see splatters of blood on the floor sometimes, though. He didn't follow where they lead nor what that rotten smell was.)
This darkness is starting to get real annoying and stopped being dramatic a few stores ago.
Huh, could I maybe change my eyes to be able to see in the dark?
But, how would that…..even work…? He's supposed to be able to see and change soul shapes right?
Maybe if I….
He went back a few paces in time and began thinking about the very second he had been reincarnated. That single second of violation of his...soul. That was it.
He grasped it.
He sucked a breath in and opened his eyes. Nothing had changed outwardly, but he could feel it now, he could feel his own soul. And his own metaphorical hand grabbing it.
Was this it? He poked at it. Aueg, what the fuck. That was weird. He's supposed to…mess with this? Which part of it is his arm? His leg? His head and eyes? Should he continue to poke at it…?
.....was it like playdough?
(Was it alright to compare a living being's core existence to a toy children below 10 normally play?)
Something crackles in the distance,
Mm r..buy one….get— …fr..eee..
It wasn't like he's going to die the moment he makes a mistake anyway, right? Curses can live without a heart even! Alright. Let's see…
Tryy…sp’cial……lim’ted..TIME.
It stalks.
Mahito opens his eyes from where he was looking and prodding his own soul, and would you look at that! His left arm's longer! Didn't mean it didn't feel weird but at least there's progress. Yet, before he could celebrate more, a looming shadow from behind him begets his attention.
BUY..!
CRASH!
BUY! BUY..!!
Mahito barely dodged the attack that had aimed to crush him. He had kicked his leg and sprinted for life before skidding to a harsh stop at the surprise at his own speed. He's now backed into a wall.
He takes a sweeping look at the thing that had almost taken his second chance for breath. He flinched.
Moonlight made for poor lighting, it was barely visible. But from what he's able to make out, it's a scary thing, a gnarly mess of eyes and sharp bones. No skin could be seen anywhere but moss, loosely hanging from the creature's body, shaped like a dog without its hind legs yet had a human skull for a head. Many eyes protruded from any sides of the skull but the sockets where they’re supposed to rest. It's also half as big as the hall way they were in. It makes for one hell of a nightmare fuel.
Fuck fuck fuck. what the actual fuck shit.
It creeks.
Buy..ti—e ! Buy…buy……!!
He really wasn't interested.
The curse didn't care about his opinion though and lunged at him. This time, Mahito had seen it coming and jumped away to the side and the curse crashed into the wall. Had that been him, he thinks that he would've been mush by now.
As the curse recovered from its own blunder, its many eyes blinked rapidly. Mahito took his chance and dipped. He ran. Up a winding stair and parkouring over debris, making moves he didn't know he had the ability to do. Are the bodies of curses naturally fit? Lucky assholes.
Having failed its surprise attack, the crawling nightmare screeched bloody murder, not bothering for stealth anymore.
Now is really not the time to complain– SHIT.
He's reached an impasse. A ravine he wasn't confident in jumping over. Even then, the curse would just continue to chase him.
THUD, THUD— CRASH!
It's coming closer.
His hands were shaking. What was he supposed to do— he didn't know the first thing about fighting and he's barely even able to use his—!
A loud crumble of walls announces the arrival of his grim reaper.
….he never had a choice, did he.
Seeing its prey cornered, the creature made a noise like a laugh- a giggle, or maybe a cackle. Voices, and voiceless. They all sounded mirthful.
At this very moment, the only thing his panicked brain could supply was you're dead you're dead you're finished .
So, he took a more animalistic approach,
Stay alive.
And blanked everything out.
His eyes blurred and all of a sudden, he was behind the monstrosity, having run under the curse between its ribs. As naturally as breathing, as easily as a curse would, bloodlust flew straight to his mind.
The thing screeched. This time, in pain, and not glee. Purple liquid burst out of the bones of the creature from the small cuts the other curse had made while skidding to its flank.
Its eyes still unhurt, the being reassessed its opponent. The humanoid now had sharp protruding bones from its fingernails, like claws. Its hair vailed their face and it posed hunched over, ready to make a move whenever. It seemed unbothered by a lack of visibility, but from what could be seen, its pupils reflected nothing. Like an empty husk whose only purpose was to kill anything that threatened it.
Yet, the creature had never felt more seen.
Not wanting to be outmatched, it yelled, “TI– T —E!” and started a fury of attacks towards the other curse.
At first, the humanoid dodged them all, but after the 8th strike that had tried to crush it to the ground, the attacking curse’s hand struck too hard and dug into hard concrete. At this, the other curse took the chance to pounce on the stuck arm and used it as leverage to jump up and land on the creature’s head, crushing a few of its many eyes.
SCREEEEEEE—
Crudely, the humanoid plunges its fingers into its victim's eyes. Clearly, it laughed .
It sounded so free.
The creature tried to fight back. But being unfamiliar with its weakness being exploited, it merely flailed around in hysteria.
The cruelty didn't last long, having its most sensitive spots crushed and torn apart, the curse quickly dissipated into black smoke and left nothing behind but the creators it had made. An anticlimactic end for the hunted hunter.
Standing in one of the creators, Mahito triumphed. His eyes slowly cleared up and focus was regained. He's alive.
The adrenaline still pumping, he wavered on his feet and turned his head to see his surroundings. Nothing was comprehended though.
He's alive.
Good gods, He's alive.
Not even realising it, a maniacal grin had creeped into his face.
That felt so fucking good.
“Hah,” His voice cracks as if it's been without water for days. “Who knew fighting for dear life could be so fun?”
He blinked a few times and finally assessed his surroundings. The fight had apparently brought them to the 2nd floor of the building, from the height he saw from beyond the shattered railings. He turns his head to the other side.
And saw himself in a mirror.
The thing that was staring back at him had a slightly hunched back, grey dishevelled hair, and wide heterochromic eyes. Its black cloak looked dirty but otherwise untouched from the earlier fight.
Ah, that's him.
That creature is him .
He stood up, back straight, and stared. Studying the other person who looked equally enamoured.
Mahito noticed the fact that his hand and arm were still...mutated. Would that be the correct term? No. Transfigured . Either way, he “retracted” the boney sharp things and returned his arm to the correct length. He was getting used to this faster than he thought.
Wanting to see more of his face, he brought his hand up to his hair and tried to smooth it out. It didn't help much, but at least it's not covering his eyes that much anymore. And with it, he could see the lines running across his face. Like…a patchwork.
He huffed.
He never had a choice to begin with, huh.
When did he ever?
What's his fate but a toy to the whims of the universe. To dying and waking up, barely born and was already thrown into a hectic fight, if the resulting surroundings were any indication.
The fight itself was a blur. He couldn't remember much, as concerning as it is since it had just happened. Supposedly, fighting for your life was just that easy. Easy enough that he didn't even need to acknowledge it. If at all. Another thing to shelf, he's sure, but whatever.
Mahito looks up into the sky, the moon's still high. The night's still young. He wonders if he should stay or finally get out of this place. He couldn't hear any foreign sounds, that meant he's safe, right? He should really invest in his fighting prowess soon, unless he wanted to keep fighting like…that.
So many things to do, and so little time.