Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Between one moment and the next.

He isn’t and then he is.

The night sky greets him when he opens his eyes.

(A second pair opens alongside the first)

(He doesn’t have—)

His thoughts were a confusing haze, something between waking and a dream. Jumbled between two conflicting truths.

He was alive.

He was hungry.

Where was he?

What was—?

Something was attacking him.

He barely catches a glimpse of the thing— the monster before his (no— not his, this was—) body  moves without his input, reducing the monst— Curse to a splatter of gore in an instant with a simple swipe of the arm.

He stares at the rapidly disintegrating remains, feeling oddly disconnected– detached from it all.

Why did this feel so familiar to him?

How wonderful!

Maniacal laughter escapes his throat and spills from his lips, ringing through the air and in his ears.

(It wasn’t his – Who was laughing?)

Beyond the bloodlust, beyond the delight at finally, finally getting to see the light, getting to breathe again. Something was tugging at him, something that didn’t quite feel physical but was there all the same.

He could hear himself  someone talking but couldn’t focus on the words.

He (was it him?) focused on that feeling, mind and attention split. He (yes, this was him, he was certain.) gently tugs back (or at least doing something that felt like it) .

Who–?

A hand– he belatedly realizes is his own – grabs at his (their…?) neck.

A young voice calls out, contrasting his (...?) own deeper voice.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing with my body? Give it back.” 

(Was he–)

This Vessel–!

“How are you able to move?” His (he hadn’t spoken, that wasn’t him–) own voice gasps.

They– He was being suppressed…?

Just who was this brat?

And that’s when it clicks for him.

The brat’s memories told him–

(Memories of a manga he’d read told him–)

This was Yuuji Itadori.

“I mean it’s my body?”

He pulls on the presence he now realized belonged to the owner of this body, practically shoving the kid back into full control.

No–

(Did that make him–?)

A contradictory being, part of him struggling to remain in control of his vessel while the other tried to force back control to his host.

(Sukuna?)

(They aren’t both supposed to be here.)

Eventually–

Who are You?

(I-)

Something Fractures.

Something Breaks.

He wouldn’t describe the sensation as waking up. 

Can he describe it as such when he hadn’t been asleep to begin with?

He had died…was dead…

It was nothing then something.

He wasn’t and then he was, kneeling in the middle of his domain a blood red lake.

It felt like his head was being split in two but he didn’t dare move.

I know this place.

His domain, a place ingrained in his very being to encapsulate his mind, soul, and cursed technique.

The lair of a Monster , come to life from the pages of a manga he had been fond of despite its shortcomings.

Why– How was he here?

It was His domain, why wouldn’t he be here?

Standing in the panels of a manga turned reality.

He takes a shaky breath.

In... Out…

He could taste blood and rot in his throat and on his tongue.

It clogs his airways and threatens to choke him.

He ignores it.

In... Out…

He opens his eyes, but doesn’t look up.

Blank eyes stare at the pale kimono clothing his form (untouched by the crimson he knelt in, a part of him noted). 

One of his arms draped over his knee, he can barely catch a glimpse of black encircling his wrists.

In… Out…

Fuck. He really was in Jujutsu Kaisen wasn’t he?

In... Out…

Was he… Sukuna?

No. 

That isn’t my name.

Then what is…?

Nothing.

You hold no name besides my own.

…

“It should be about time.” The annoying white haired sorcerer declared.

Right on que, Sukuna feels that pulling sensation again (though that second… presence he had felt earlier was completely absent).

He couldn’t resist it.

Dammit! Again?!

How the hell was this brat able to suppress him?

His eyes fall closed as control slips from him entirely.

He looks up just as a pink haired teenager vanishes from sight.

Yuuji…?

Why was Yuuji in the domain…?

Did that happen every time Yuuji and Sukuna switched in the manga?

Yuuji seemed like the kind of person to have mentioned such a thing if it had.

(Though who knows how much of what he’d read and watched of this world could actually apply here.)

The kid hadn’t seemed to notice him, likely too distracted by the fight between Gojo Satoru and… himself Ryoumen Sukuna.

Wait–

His eyes (four, he had four of them now! He wondered if they were colored red as well.) widened, his rhythm of breathing disrupted.

If he was here then who–?

He wasn’t alone.

He resumes breathing.

The action felt mechanical.

In… Out…

Slowly, he lifts his head, up and up, letting his vision drag and pan over the throne hill of skulls he knelt before.

Taking his time, delaying an inevitable.

(Like it would actually mean anything when the attack came.)

A deafening silence drowned the domain.

In… Out…

He was cold. It was a surprise he wasn’t trembling.

(It was also a surprise that the other was remaining silent, but he’d take a small mercy where he could get one.)

In… 

He decides to bite the bullet. 

Bracing himself to die a second time, he finally drags his eyes to the sole other occupant of this place.

Out…

And finds himself meeting the bloody eyes of Ryoumen Sukuna.

He hid it well, but Sukuna still looked just as shocked as he himself felt.

Ah.

Chapter Text

There was something intruding in His domain.

If it weren’t for the fact that the something— someone else in question was directly in front of him, Sukuna might not have even noticed it.

It barely had a presence for Sukuna to detect.

(What little he could detect felt like—)

The intruder was kneeling in the reddened waters of Sukuna’s domain, clothed in a pale kimono that matched his own that shifted with every breath the other took. Messy pink hair obscuring its face from his view.

Sukuna wondered if his vessel had somehow managed to stumble his way into his domain after being knocked out by that white haired fool.

A moment of hesitation- of anticipation- of silence. 

Then it looked up.

And four pale red eyes met his own, an imperfect mirror of his vessel’s current form.

And for barely a instant, it felt like a weight had been set on him, like those knowing, blank eyes were focused on something beyond what he could perceive.

It was gone in an instant. And Sukuna wondered if he’d imagined it.

“Oh? Now what might this be?”

Was this the one who had helped his vessel take back control of his body that first time?

(Not that the assistance was needed if Sukuna’s continued inability to take back control from the brat was any indication.)

A Curse that had already been inhabiting this vessel? One tied to the brat?

No…that couldn’t be it.

Sukuna’s eyes narrow.

If it was the brat’s then why did it feel more like…

Blank eyes narrowed back at him as it straightened itself, body tense as if torn between rising to its feet or staying where it knelt. 

It said nothing.

Not that Sukuna particularly cared for what the intruder had to say, but this being had the audacity to trespass upon not only Sukuna’s vessel but his domain as well.

And to mimic him on top of that.

And yet it made no indication that it intended to speak.

How annoying.

However…

Where its expression attempted to remain blank and its voice remained absent, its untamed cursed energy (pathetic and weak, all the control of a newborn curse, and yet…all too familiar to Sukuna) held no such regard for any attempts at hiding.

confusionfear Dread resignation Recognition

Ah, so it knew who he was. 

Good.

(Not that it would change anything.)

“Nothing to say?”

He leans back on his throne, a hand propping up his chin. Eyes half-lidded in disinterest as he looked down upon the other.

“Fine then, keep your silence.” It did not truly matter what the intruder was, how it managed to invade his vessel (or if this vessel belonged to it first). It wasn’t capable of doing anything to him nor did Sukuna intend on letting it live long enough to try.

And based on the faint grimace that briefly slipped through that fragile mask, it knew this as well.

He lifts his other hand in a dismissive gesture. “I’m in no mood to entertain myself with a fool such as yourself.”

Any other time he would’ve taken his time tearing the pest apart. But as things are now? He had far better things to preoccupy himself with than fighting a weak mimicry over His own Vessel.

The other reacts (To make an attempt at speaking? At dodging? It didn’t matter) , faster than any ordinary human might’ve been able to, but far too slow to even attempt to stop him.

It barely gets further than a slight widening of dead, unseeing eyes and the beginnings of rising to its feet.

A slight flick of the wrist is all it takes the same kind of ease as brushing dirt off of cloth.

Dismantle.

( Wait- )

He observes with boredom as the invisible blade bisects the other’s skull, splitting through flesh and bone and organ with ease.

Whatever it may have been attempting to say was cut off with a choked sound, its mind and body catching up to its own death.

It drops with barely a sound beyond the splashes of the corpse hitting the water and disappearing beneath its surface.

What little presence it had vanished in a blink and left a vacant space.

Sukuna barely pays it any mind, its death no different from the countless others that preceded it nor those who would follow, instead turning his attention back to his current predicament.

His vessel sleeps through it all, completely unknowing. Still preventing him from taking control.

A division grows.

Something is wrong.

It was slow, an insidious thing that crept up on him in his boredom until it was too late for him to notice it hooking itself deep into his being .

Something is wrong .

An empty sensation gnaws at his chest, worsening as time passes.

Was this a cursed technique?

Had the intruder managed to do something to him after all?

He waits in anticipation, expecting something to happen. Curious if there was something more to that weakling after all.

Nothing does, but the feeling persists, strengthens , a growing emptiness, an anticipation that refuses to be ignored, a line drawn taut.

Something is missing.

The corpse was gone without a trace.

There was no real way to keep track of time in the domain, especially with the vessel still unconscious.

It could have been minutes or hours since Sukuna disposed of the intruder and yet that dull ache in his chest remained persistent.

If it simply remained as is, Sukuna could have ignored the sensation, let the thing slip into the background.

But no . As if sensing his thoughts drifting those hooks would violently yank his mind back to the present before winding itself back under his ribcage.

And yet nothing happened beyond a growing weight that clawed its way into his chest.

A distraction from the boredom it may have been (he had realized fairly quickly he wasn’t making any progress when it came to his vessel), it only served to infuriate him more.

Then something shifts.

The hooks underneath his skin pull.

The sensation vanishes .

And Sukuna can breathe again.

A splash breaks the silence of the domain. A familiar presence blooms back into existence. A sharp gasp barely audible underneath the sounds of the water.

Sukuna opens his eyes and sure enough, the intruder is once again kneeling before him, a hand braced against the surface of the lake, breaths coming in rushed gasps.

Was that its technique then? To come back from death by tethering itself to another?

Sukuna expects the thing to attack him, to fight in a desperate attempt to keep this second chance it’s managed to seize for itself.

He finds himself disappointed .

In an absolutely woeful display of situational awareness, it does not get up immediately nor does it acknowledge his presence despite the danger it was still in . Instead one of its hands lifts slightly, trembling fingers brushing across where its flesh had been split apart mere minutes ago.

Its breathing slows.

Sukuna should strike it down again, if not for its audacity then for this pitiful display. Clearly he’d been too hasty killing it the first time around. If the thing dared to bind itself to His vessel, then he would take great pleasure in making it regret that decision before he eradicated it. Ensure the pest wouldn’t dare to use its technique again.

But something else catches his attention before he decides to act on those thoughts.

Its cursed energy felt different . Still a weak little thing, but some quality of it had changed just enough for Sukuna to notice but not blatant enough for him to pinpoint what exactly had.

Intrigue bleeds into his anger as he continues to observe his unwanted guest.

His eyes narrow. What was it…?

The intruder shifts in place, hand moving to cup its own face.

“ what-? ” It cuts itself off, flinching at the sound, its voice so very similar to Sukuna’s own yet far too small , too soft to be His .

The whisper was barely audible and yet Sukuna heard it and the unspoken question all the same.

Oh? 

A disbelieving laugh (more a scoff really) escapes him.

Did it not know what it had done then? Or had it simply not expected it to work?

Did that mean-?

Either alerted by the sound or choosing that exact moment to remember its audience, the other’s head snaps up, wide eyes looking through him meeting his own.

It’s faster to get to its feet this time, stumbling slightly in its haste. Still so slow.

The sole reason Sukuna does not strike it down again for its insolence (on top of everything else) is curiosity and caution.

They stay like that for a moment, simply observing the other. Wearing the same expression.

“It seems I was mistaken...” He mused, leaning back in his seat.

The intruder shifts away, defensiveness seeping into the way it holds itself. Its cursed energy no longer held the same level of resignation as it did before, its earlier confusion and fear flaring even stronger than before in its shadow of a presence.

“What do-“

“That technique of yours…What exactly did it do ?” 

A minuscule spike of annoyance , as if the pest dared to be bothered by him speaking over it.

It blinks, processing what it had been asked, its confusion slipping through the mask it had been attempting to maintain.

He suspected it didn’t know and yet seeing that wide-eyed cluelessness on a face so closely mimicking his own still sparked a return of his earlier anger.

“ My technique? I- Wait- you- You don’t know? ” Incredulousness practically dripped from its tone, overriding the thing’s panic and fear.

It thought he knew. Expected him to know. And realized that he did not.

But that wasn’t what Sukuna concerned himself with.

“Are you really going to keep dodging my questions while standing in the middle of my Domain?” He inquires, lowering his hand from where he’d been leaning on it to rest across his knee. “I could just kill you again .”

The other’s eyes narrow at his words.

“You’d kill me either way, regardless...” It trails off, eyes drifting from his own to something unseen, the defensiveness that held its body tight loosening ever so slightly…

The silence drags for just a moment longer than what could be considered tolerable . Just long enough for Sukuna to wonder if the thing had once again lost its voice, before it continued.

Its next words are quiet, distant things, a barely there afterthought yet heard by his ears nonetheless. “… regardless of if you can actually make it stick this time.”

Sukuna pauses.

Was that a hint of spine underneath all of that smoldering fear and resignation?

It jolts, wide eyes snapping back to Sukuna’s own, as if the thing had just forgotten his presence despite being right in front of it.

And Sukuna?

He smirks, a slow vicious thing that crept across his face. Amusement, annoyance, and anger, and the ever-consuming desire for something even slightly entertaining to do while he waited for his vessel to awaken, bleeding together into malice .

“Perhaps I will. The difference , however, is how long I decide you will have to live through it.”

And if that technique activates again? All the more for him to do.

He casts Dismantle before it can respond. (Nothing that would immediately kill. Sukuna had meant what he said after all.)

(It Reacts–)

And the surface of the lake splits in two .

A moment of stillness, the liquid remaining separated for a few seconds longer than what would be natural before crashing back into place.

Sukuna’s focus wasn’t on that, his eyes lazily drifting from the empty space to where it now stood, completely intact ( shaken but intact ) , braced against one of the ribs caging the lake.

His grin widens when it looks back up at him, a glint of something in its eyes before its expression settles back into defensive neutrality.  

“You can see it then.” He calls, rising to his feet before leaping from his throne to the lake below. The water barely rippled beneath him. “ Good .”

Not just see , but react fast enough to dodge entirely . 

Had he caught it off guard the first time? Or…had it learnt from before? 

Regardless—

The distance separating them is gone in an instant, a hand snapping toward the other's face.

— that won’t be enough to save it from him.