Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He opened his eyes to blurry surroundings. He swore death was the last thing he remembered. And yet, the sight of that familiar scar above him was unmistakable. He couldn't help the familiar burst of hate and despair that manifested as his cursed energy.

The impostor posing as Itadori Kaori let out an interested hum. “Fascinating. I did not think this possible. And yet…” That genderless thing trailed off pensively. “Hmm, I might need to change a few plans.”

Kenjaku peered closer with an eerily amused smile. “No matter, welcome back to the world of the living, Itadori Sukuna.”

That sounded like the start of a bad joke because …Itadori… Sukuna?

*

Itadori Yuuji hated his older twin. And the feelings were mutual. He had never doubted the mutual hate. Unless he was sick. And he was. Sick, that is.

His older brother pressed a cup of warm water into his hands as he let out a harsh cough. A warm hand was pressed behind his back as a pillow was placed more comfortably. He looked up, searching for his brother’s eyes. The cold indifference that usually faced him seemed to thaw making place for the honey-glazed-eyes-infused-with-warmth that the gaggle of girls — and some boys — from the neighborhood and school seemed to constantly giggle about. Something about a warm personality shrouded in a melancholic past and cheering him up with gifts. His mood fell further at the thought. His brother usually looks detached, but why does he always insist on smiling when someone helps him or gifts him something? Despite refusing, can’t he see he’s just spurring them on?

He pulled himself away to gaze outside the window. All his effort merely amounted to the view of a single tree trunk. He felt his annoyance flare. Why in the world would anyone plant such a large tree outside such a small window? Should he chop it down? He gave the idea a serious thought before being pulled out of it as his brother came back with a tray of food. His stomach couldn’t help grumbling at the smell.

His brother sat, taking a portion of his bed before gently blowing the spoonful of soup and lifting it near his mouth. He moved to drink and reluctantly pressed himself closer to his brother. Being closer will allow his brother to feed him faster.

His brother tucked him in once he had finished his lunch. “You should rest.”

He instinctively reached for his brother’s sleeve as he felt the other leave. “Stay?” he murmured. He closed his eyes to avoid looking at his brother. He never did understand what he was avoiding. He was almost expecting a refusal until he heard a soft “Okay.” Now that he thinks about it, his brother had never refused him before. So why did he always expect a refusal?

Confusion halted as he felt a soft kiss being pressed unto his forehead.

…He never did mind being sick.

*

Itadori Yuuji hated his older twin. Did he ever mention this? Because he did, hate him that is. He slumped into the chair as he watched his teacher’s ire evaporate into nothingness when facing his brother’s shy crooked smile. If he hadn’t known better, he would’ve scoffed it as manipulative. However, the fact he did know better makes it all the easier for him to hate.

His brother had always been genuine when expressing emotions. Indifference — a clumsy attempt to hide his emotions — only ever appears when his brother faces either no one or him. The conversation between the teacher and his brother ended with a short promise. “Thank you, Sensei! I’ll talk to him, I promise!”

He rolled his eyes.

On the way back home, he watched his brother’s frown deepen from the corner of his eyes. His brother has yet to say a single word to him. “And there I thought you promised to talk to me.” He taunted in an attempt to smooth out the frown.

His brother turned towards him, slightly startled. “Say Yuu-chan,” Yuuji almost interrupted him at the nickname, but refrained, his brother never seems to remember anyways. “Why do you always fight?”

He let out a grumbled sigh at the question. “Let me guess, I should stop fighting and put more effort into something productive like studying and doing sports?” Honestly, he’s been getting the same lecture from everyone, including his grandfather. And why can’t any of them ever drop it!? Though, it’s the first from his brother…

“No. I meant my question. Why do you fight?”

“…Because I like it. I like the thrill, the destruction.” He truthfully answered. He watched his brother’s expression attentively, wishing and yet not, to spot any changes. He wondered what his brother feels about the truth. “I like the challenge, the warmth of blood, the feeling of fight-or-die.”

Disappointingly — or not? — his brother merely nodded in acquiescence. “I see.”

More silence. It was starting to grate on his nerves. What in the world did his brother even see? What is there to see anyways?

He almost snapped when his brother finally spoke. “Then, can you promise me something?”

“…What?”

“Promise me. That you won’t attack innocents?”

He felt incredulous. “That’s it? Don’t attack innocents? What the hell are innocents anyways? In what sense are you even talking about?”

His brother frowned at the questions. “Um… do not… attack… unprovoked?” His brother seemed to be testing the words as if unsure how to explain what he meant in a way he would understand.

He scoffed. He had a pretty good idea what his brother considers as innocent. The entire world was probably innocent until someone seeks to wipe out the population or something. “Fine.”

His brother turned wide eyes towards him. “Really?” He sounded disbelieving and hopeful all at once.

Yuuji turned his head away. “Yes.” He felt something warm settle around his heart as he uttered the word. Almost as if he’d regret breaking his word. Why did he even — ?

He snapped his heads towards his hand as he felt his brother’s fingers slip into his. He slowly lifted his head. The first thing he noticed was the warm and pleased smile blinding him — and probably everyone else walking on the street.

His face heated — just slightly — at the expression as he scooted slightly — more than slightly — away. However, he never did pull far enough for their hands to untangle.

…Damn it.

*

Itadori Yuuji hated his older twin. This time, he could feel it. It was pressing everywhere around him. He skulked around the mostly empty corridors as most club were still running. His brother had joined the occult club. He scoffed at the reason his brother gave his grandfather. They all knew everyone knew he only joined as the club finished earlier than most, giving his brother the time to go visit their grandfather. Why does he keep insisting? Grandfather himself had been shouting at his brother to stop the daily visits.

His thinking was interrupted by a loud crash. His interest piqued, he followed after the sound. Here’s how everything approximately went.

There was a bleeding boy with black spikes for hair, a creature straight from one of his brother’s moronic horror movies and a weird ass plastic-looking finger that wouldn’t look out of place as a failed Halloween decoration.
The result?

He somehow ended up with the finger in his hand, dodging the creature’s attacks. The other boy seemed to be coughing out words that resembled something like “Run! You can’t win!”

He scoffed. Again. “No way. This thing just provoked me, and you want me to run?”

“You need cursed energy to kill it! Which you barely have!” The boy sounded almost desperate.

Yuuji frowned at the show of worry. Disgusting. Showing concern for a stranger? He hopes the other is nothing like his brother, or he’ll hurl. Shouldn’t something similar to his brother be extinct by now?

“And how do you get more?”

“What?”

He sighed. “What is this?” He asked as he held out the finger. The creature made a swipe towards it, which he dodged.

The boy hissed at the question. “We don’t have time for this! It’s a cursed object! Didn’t I already tell you?”

Yuuji felt confused before snarling. “I wouldn’t be asking if you did! Does this mean this shit has cursed energy?”

“…what?”

Patience was leaving him. Not that he had much to begin with. “Can’t you say something other than what? Why does this creature even want it?”

“To absorb its cursed energy and grow stronger! And you should leave! You can’t kill it without cursed energy! Are you even listening!?”

“Yes, yes.” He waved uncaringly. “Does this work for human?”

“……what?” He looked confused by the question.

He didn’t wait for the other to finish before bringing the finger towards his mouth.

The boy seemed to want to make a move to stop him before flinching from his wounds. “NO! Spit it out! What the hell are you doing?”

“Hmm.” The finger tasted quite disgusting. “Is this cursed energy?” He mused as he flexed his fingers. A blue flame grew to cover his fist. Grabbing the creature mid-attack, he sent a punch towards the thing’s face, disappearing after a single hit.

He suddenly grew disinterested from the situation once more. “…weak. How boring.”

“W-what? How’d you? Are you alright?” He sounded bewildered by the current situation.

Yuuji lifted an eyebrow. “Are you sure I shouldn’t be asking you that?” He watched as the other devolved into bloody coughs.

“But — Sukuna’s fingers are highly poisonous!”

His breath stilled slightly at the answer. “…Sukuna?” He brought his hands towards his stomach.

“Ryomen Sukuna’s.” The air around them seemed to still at the mere utterance of the name.

“I see.” He answered despite not seeing anything. Which asshole shared his brother’s name!?

“And, when’d you get here? Didn’t you stay at the hospital?” The way the guy was narrowing his eyes suspiciously at him despite his injuries was quite note-worthy.

And ah, doesn’t this make more sense? This guy met his brother. It’s been a while since they were confused for each other. While they did look identical, anyone who got to know them has never mistaken them again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Anyways, I got to go. I hope you have someone to pick you up.” He said as he turned to leave.

“I’m sorry, but I cannot allow you to leave yet.” He swiveled his head towards the new voice. The new guy was wearing a blindfold and a uniform similar to spike-head who seemed to have relaxed slightly at the support the other was providing.

He hadn’t even felt this guy arrive. “…who are you?”'

The blindfolded weirdo gave him a practiced smile. “Gojo Satoru. It’s nice to meet you, Itadori Yuuji was it?”

“…”

He felt something inside him crumble at the other’s face as he recognized the feeling rising in him. Hate. He took a deep breath. How can a face be so annoying? Maybe he should’ve listened to his brother a bit more when he spoke about karma?

Chapter Text

Sukuna looked at his own reflection through the bathroom mirror. He had brushed back his own hair.

As for the scars beneath his eyes, he still hadn’t figured out whether they were merely cosmetic or something more. He hadn’t been able to open them in this life. His brother had the same scars — or were they eyes? — as well.

He stifled a sigh. This might get confusing fast…

Shifting his gaze to the soap bar, he twitched a finger, casting Dismantle. His eyes narrowed as he observed the sliced pieces. This was new. He hadn’t been able to cast it without physical contact before. The name Sukuna echoed in his mind. Was he truly?

“You scratched the sink.”

Mother? Mom? Whatever our relationship is.

Regardless, she—yes, she — Sukuna decided to go with the body’s pronoun for simplicity, as he had no desire to ask — always had the uncanny knack of showing up exactly where he didn’t want her to be.

By the time her voice reached him, his expression had already settled into his usual mask of indifference. Or, as indifferent as he could manage. He had no idea if it’s successful or not.

She had been focusing an uncomfortable amount of attention on him. Attention he doesn’t remember her ever showing before. Was she doubting something? She probably was. Sukuna was never good at lying or acting. Though, Yuuji was probably helping with the confusion.

“Your techniques are lacking.” Her expression remained unchanged, that same unsettling, soulless smile fixed in place.

He pressed his lips together, stifling the flicker of frustration. And isn’t that the problem? Power, control, speed—none of it was up to par. Admittedly, he was still young. Or rather, this body was young.

As his gaze flicked to the date on the alarm clock, a heavy feeling settled over him. 2007. He never did find out when exactly it happened, but he wished he was stronger—or older. Not four years old, at least.

“I’m aware,” he replied, keeping his tone as calm as possible. No use trying to go against her now. He wouldn’t win.

He closed his eyes as he moved past her. There wasn’t much he could do. And yet — I’m sorry, Sensei.

“Sukuna. Remember your vow to me.”

He ignored her. Step-by-step he reminded himself. You’re alone now, and he had no idea what she’s on about.

*

Mother finally left.

Father disappeared shortly after.

It had happened before. He shouldn’t have cared. But he did. Was the difference the fact that he remembered?

He knows his father had cared for them—at least, somewhat. Or had he? Maybe he had died with Kaori long ago, their bodies merely going through the motions ever since.

Grandfather called it love and denial. He grimaced. What a twisted love story.

In some ways, the relief he felt at their disappearance was overwhelming.

It was an ugly feeling.

He turned his head toward his brother, who had curled up in his futon. The fingers wrapped around his own were warm. He wondered what kind of expression he usually made when facing him?

With his free hand, he gently brushed through his brother’s hair.

*

It was the first time he’d been scolded in this lifetime. Though, scolded was perhaps the wrong word — Grandpa looked weirdly happy.
He had skived off school for a day to go to Tokyo upon hearing about a parade and fun from some murmurs brought to him by some too-free low-level curses. For some odd reasons, many of them seemed to enjoy twittering near him. The fact that he even understood them was baffling. He hadn’t bothered exorcising them. He’d rather not attract unnecessary attention to him.

He gradually tuned out the lecture, his gaze drifting towards the calendar. 2015. It felt too much like a countdown.

He could have sworn it shouldn’t have happened yet.

Was this the butterfly effect? Or was he simply not in the same past?

...Is this what people call fate?

PAF!

The sudden slap to the back of his head snapped him out of his thoughts. He blinked in surprise.

“Are you listening, Sukuna, you numbskull!?”

A happy laugh, laced with mockery, floated in from just outside the door.

He turned toward the sound, leveling the most deadpan look he could muster at his little brother.

*

“Itadori Sukuna.”

For some reason, hearing that familiar voice felt like a declaration that everything would be okay. That he wasn’t alone.

He closed his eyes, letting the sound settle within him, before reopening them to a sight for sore eyes.

I’ve missed you.

*

His little brother fell ill again. Yuuji wasn’t weak per se. Stronger than average humans at least. However, his strength was — for lack of better words — from his vocabulary — lacking compared to his past self.

Biting his lip in worry, Sukuna handed him a cup of water and watched as Yuuji let out another harsh cough. The number of times Yuuji had fallen ill could not be normal. Not for them. He doesn’t ever remember catching a cold. His brother even less.

He frowned as Yuuji turned his head away.

Maybe a meal will cheer him up?

Back with a meal, he suppressed a chuckle at the sound of his brother’s stomach. Sukuna cooled the soup before feeding him. As Yuuji leaned closer, Sukuna felt a warmth spread through him. He never did figure out if that movement was intentional or not.

He felt a pull on his sleeve as he prepared to leave. “Stay?” His brother sounded half asleep. Sukuna wondered if his brother ever remembered when he sometimes acted differently from his usual — rebellious delinquent? — persona, as some of their teachers and peers put it.

Personally, Yuuji always reminded him more of a grumpy cat.

He snapped out of his thoughts, realizing he never gave an answer. “Okay,” he said softly.

He leaned in and pressed a light kiss to his brother’s forehead. He’d never had a little brother before, but he vaguely recalled seeing this kind of gesture in movies.

Cute.

*

Getting stopped by the teacher was a stroke of luck. Sukuna looked at him sheepishly, barely catching what was being said. Something about Yuuji getting into a fight?

“Thank you, Sensei! I’ll talk to him, I promise!”

He approached his brother, giving him a quick once-over. He seemed fine, if not slightly disgruntled.

Sukuna studied him carefully. There were similarities, sure, but the differences were startling. Yuuji could be dismissive and prone to violence. However, it could still be said to be within society’s acceptable range. Not a model citizen perhaps, but no criminal either.

Sometimes, he couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if his brother ever remembered their past. The thought unsettled him. He frowned, unsure why it left him so uneasy.

“And there I thought you promised to talk to me.”

Sukuna startled at the sudden noise. “Say Yuu-chan, why do you always fight?”

“…Because I like it. I like the thrill, the destruction. I like the challenge, the warmth of blood, the feeling of fight-or-die.”

He blinked at the answer. For some reason, that didn’t sound so bad. Basically, Yuuji liked extreme martial arts. He nodded to himself. “I see.”

Technically, as long as Yuuji avoided using martial arts on innocents, wouldn’t this be fine? Besides, everyone liked a proactive Jujutsu Sorcerer, right? His teachers did say to find a job they enjoyed, after all.

Wait no.

Would his brother prefer to be a curse instead? He slowed down, confused. Is fighting as a curse more fun?

Tilting his head, he looked at Yuuji questioningly. Can’t he just — “Then, can you promise me something?”

“…What?”

“Promise me. That you won’t attack innocents?”

Yuuji raised an eyebrow. “That’s it? Don’t attack innocents? What the hell are innocents anyways? In what sense are you even talking about?”

Sukuna froze. Now that was a loaded question. Innocent as judged by the law is way too vague, especially for Jujutsu sorcerers. Morality? Too many interpretations. Contextual? Same problem. Age? …Nah, they lived in a world where children can be killers as well… His brain almost fried as he tried to find a proper answer.

“Um… do not… attack… unprovoked?” he finally managed, though a thought nagged at him. Would it count if Yuuji provoked the other person first?

Yuuji scoffed. That’s right, he was being silly — “Fine.”

Eh? Sukuna turned towards his brother in disbelief. Did he hear him right? “Really?”

“Yes.”

The promise that was made was beyond vague. It probably won’t even do anything. And yet, it made him smile. One of his most genuine ones since he started over.

He slipped his hands into his brother’s.

And oh, he thought as he watched the pink dusting his brother’s cheeks. Because did it even matter? Whether Yuuji ever remembers or not?

They were family. Always had been.

A warm feeling settled around Sukuna’s heart. It wasn’t quite a binding vow, but it was a promise nonetheless. Theirs.

They always will be.

He only regretted it took him so long to realize.

Chapter Text

Gojo adjusted his blindfold, lifting it slightly from one corner. Well, he felt slightly bad for knocking the kid out — especially since he supposedly helped his cute student — but this is unexpectedly worrying.

Once the kid had gone unconscious, a second pair of eyes had opened right below his eyes, where his scars usually laid — if the pictures he had gathered were accurate. They hadn’t done much more than open briefly before shutting once more. They hadn’t appeared since.

Gojo lowered his blindfold. If it weren’t for his eyes, he might have waved it off as Sukuna incarnating. Rare, perhaps, but not impossible. Yet, that wasn’t exactly it, was it? He’d never heard of anything like this happening before.

T The cursed energy from Sukuna’s finger had fused with the kid. No, it was more than that. It was as if a missing piece of puzzle had slotted perfectly into place. An artificially made vessel. Made just for Sukuna?

Everything was just suppositions, but something about all of this made him uncomfortable. He was missing something, and the nagging itch it left behind was starting to get on his nerves.

This was a thought for another day, though. The elders were getting fussy and he’d prefer getting this conversation with the kid over with first.

Gojo dragged a chair across the room, and sat in front of the kid with crossed arms, waiting for the other to open his eyes.

He perked up at the groan. Finally!

Unable to keep up the silence, he spoke first. “Good morning, sleeping beauty!” His lips curved feeling the annoyance radiate from the kid as he uttered the words.

“Who are you?” The kid narrowed his eyes, his voice sharp. “And did you just knock me out?”

“I’m Gojo Satoru!” he replied cheerfully. “And that would be correct!”

“Why?” Gojo hesitated at the sharp edge in the question. He lifted his blindfold once more. Nope, still looked human and the second pair of eyes hadn’t reopened. No changes other than the pulsating cursed energy. He rubbed his chin as he lowered the blindfold again. Was he overthinking?

The kid snapped at him. “Are you answering or not!?”

Gojo temporarily pushed his thoughts away and chuckled. “You see. Here’s what’s going on. You’re at Tokyo Jujutsu High, a school for jujutsu sorcerers.” He paused waiting for a question that never came.

He pouted when the kid only looked at him with a blank, unimpressed stare. What a boring kid. “You’re no fun, huh? Anyway, you ate one of Sukuna’s —”

“Don’t call it that!” the kid cut him off, glaring.

Gojo tilted his head pensively. “You mean Suku—”

“What did I just say?” he hissed, irritation flaring.

“Fine!” Gojo relented, throwing up his hands. “Ryomen’s fingers, then! Whatever, you’re now his vessel and that makes you public enemy number one in the eyes of the higher-ups.”

“Vessel?” he repeated, spitting the word like it was poison.

“Exactly! And, naturally, they’ve already decided to execute you. Pretty straightforward, huh?”

“What the fuck’s a vessel?” the kid — he should probably start calling him by name — demanded before he could explain further.

Gojo blinked. But— “What a funny question. Don’t you want to ask about the whole execution thing instead?”

Yuuji rolled his eyes. “Since I’m not currently with those so-called higher-ups, and you don’t seem to much care for them, I’m probably safe for now.”

“…” Gojo stared at him. This kid really isn’t cute.

“Well? Continue.”

Gojo cleared his throat. “Right. A vessel is someone who contains cursed energy—or, in your case, Ryomen. Don’t you hear anyone or feel anything trying to fight or take over?”

“What nonsense are you spouting?” Yuuji barked out. “The only nuisance I hear is you!”

Ignoring the jab with practiced ease, Gojo forced himself to continue despite his doubts. “…As I was saying. I managed to convince them to hold off on the execution—for now. Here’s the deal. You eat all of Ryomen’s fingers, and once we’ve collected all of them, we’ll kill both you and Ryomen in one fell swoop. Simple, right?”

Yuuji scoffed. “And why should I follow along?”

“Because the alternative is being executed immediately,” Gojo said lightly, resting his chin on his hand.

They both stared at each other. “So die now or die later.” Yuuji deadpanned.

Gojo hummed playfully. “Think of it this way, I hear you’ve got a brother? Itadori Sukuna?”

For the first time since Yuuji woke up, he saw the kid’s indifference falter visibly, his cursed energy growing darker and heavier. “…Sukuna’s got nothing to do with this. He knows nothing about those… curses.”

Gojo studied him. He didn’t seem to be lying and, admittedly, his statement does align with the information on file. It was weirdly ironic that the one bearing the name of Sukuna wasn’t Sukuna’s incarnation at all.

Gojo leaned back, seeking a truce. “Itadori, unless necessary, I won’t touch your brother.” Gojo lifted a hand to interrupt whatever Yuuji wanted to say. “I promise.”

The cursed energy didn’t lighten, but Yuuji hadn’t argued back. Well, it was a start.

“Threatening him was not my intention. What I meant was, wouldn’t you like to spend more time with him?” Gojo added. “Though the elders do know about him.” He carelessly tacked on.

Yuuji tensed. “…And if I were to change my mind halfway?” They both knew the answer to that. Though the kid seemed to be asking for the sake of the next one.

“And my brother?”

Gojo hesitated, then nodded. “…My promise still stands. He won’t be implicated unless necessary.”

Gojo waited a bit more for an answer.

Necessary was such a subjective qualifier, but — “Fine!”

*

Gojo led Yuuji down the hall toward Principal Yaga’s office, hands in his pockets and his usual grin plastered on his face. “There’s nothing to worry about!”

“I wasn’t,” he grunted unhappily.

Gojo ignored the input. “Principal Yaga might seem scary, but he’s a good guy. You’ve just got to prove you’re serious about becoming a sorcerer.”

Y Yuuji frowned, glancing at him. “What are you —”

“Oh, and one more thing — whatever happens in there, just go with it. You’ll be fine!" he teased before promptly shoving Yuuji into the office.

Yuuji stumbled forward, shooting Gojo a glare over his shoulder as the door clicked shut behind him. He gritted his teeth, straightened up, and looked around the office.

The first thing he noticed was the cursed dolls scattered about the room. They seemed eerily… lifelike? He immediately went on edge, observing the man behind the desk.

“You’re late,” Yaga said curtly.

Yuuji twitched at the reprimand. That man child—!

“Sit down,” Yaga commanded. Yuuji obeyed reluctantly, taking the chair opposite the desk.

“So, you’re Itadori Yuuji, huh? You’ve eaten one of Sukuna’s fingers, and you’re now his vessel." There were no questions. Mere facts and rhetorical questions.

Yuuji twitched at the use of his brother’s name again but refrained from correcting the man. This man’s stance on the higher-ups wasn’t as clear as Gojo’s, and the last thing Yuuji wanted was to attract more attention to his brother.

“Why do you want to become Jujutsu sorcerer?”

Yuuji blinked. “…Ha?” He frowned, suddenly remembering Gojo’s earlier warning. So this was the test? What is he even meant to say? “…I don’t want to die yet.”

“Most don’t.” The principal acknowledged. “But that’s not enough.”

Before Yuuji could ask what he meant, one of the cursed dolls lunged at him. Reacting instinctively, Yuuji sidestepped the attack, his eyes darting back to Yaga.

“Is this a provocation?” Yaga didn’t answer, his face unreadable.

“No matter.” Yuuji muttered under his breath, clenching his fists. He summoned a thin layer of cursed energy around them, throwing a punch at the doll. The force of the impact startled him—it felt like his strength had skyrocketed.

He hesitated, taking a moment to adjust. Not as strong as his brother, but still a significant increase.

Deciding to test his limits, Yuuji withdrew the cursed energy and fought the doll using only his raw physical strength. It was exhilarating.

“…Ha!” He couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face as he dodged, struck, and adjusted to his new abilities.

Re-layering cursed energy, he focused it not just on his fists but gradually spread it across his arms and torso. His movements became sharper, more fluid. He had never won against his brother before, but he refused to believe he’ll lose the same way to a stuffed toy!
“Enough,” Yaga said abruptly.

Yuuji froze, his grin fading as the doll skid to a halt. “Why stop now?” he asked, frowning. “I haven’t even finished it off yet. Did I pass your doll test at least?”

Yaga’s expression remained impassive. “The doll wasn’t the test.” He leaned forward slightly, his gaze piercing. “Do you have an answer?”

Yuuji frowned. “I gave you one, didn’t I?”

“If yet is the only reason you want to be a jujutsu sorcerer, you could just wait. Wait to be fed and die. So I’ll ask again. Why do you want to become a jujutsu sorcerer?”

This line of questioning oddly reminded him of one he had years ago. He gave the same answer he had back then. “I like fighting,” he admitted. “Not only would you sorcerers teach me to become stronger, but you also give me a proper reason to? Why wouldn’t I become a sorcerer?”

Yaga studied him for a long moment, then nodded. “…You pass.”

*

Gojo reappeared in Yaga’s office in his usual casual manner. “You didn’t give him your usual spiel.”

Yaga spared him a glance. “It was unnecessary.” He admitted. “The boy will likely thrive.”

Gojo laughed, leaning lazily against the wall. “Isn’t that great? He’ll fit right in!”

“Perhaps.” Yaga’s expression darkened slightly, looking even graver than usual. “I know you’ve vouched for him. But don’t forget, Gojo. He’s still marked for execution. Are you sure he’s willing to follow?”

Gojo playfully gave his teacher a cocky smirk, brushing off the concern. “Willing or not, I’m the strongest. I’ll handle it.”

Yaga’s gaze sharpened. “Careful, Gojo. With your deal and whatever it is you’re hiding about those brothers.”

Gojo masked his nervous laugh behind his usual grin, waving a hand dismissively. Yaga-san’s too observant for his own good. “I’ve got it all under control,” he said, giving a mock salute before teleporting out.

As he left, his thoughts turned inward. Considering Yuuji didn’t seem to know about his brother… and that the brother is the only reason he’s currently playing along…

He rolled his shoulders, stretching his neck as he mulled it over. Still, if I killed the brother… yeah, Yuuji would definitely revolt. What a pain.

He sighed. “Guess I’ll need to dig into this mess myself before making any calls. I do prefer not to kill kids, you know.”

*

He’d gotten sidetracked. Though, seems like it hadn’t mattered much as he reached Sugisawa Municipal High School anyways, just in time to see a kid swallow the finger.

He would have stopped it — if he hadn’t gotten interrupted, that is. The first presence caught his attention immediately. It felt human, but the curse-like energy radiating from it was unsettling. Pulling his blindfold down, he focused on the teenager observing him—or was it them?—from the rooftop. The pink hair and scars beneath his eyes were distinctive.

The second presence was unmistakably a curse. A special grade, judging by the overwhelming energy. And not one he recognized. Pity he couldn’t see the face from where he was.

He teleported towards his student as he felt the two presences disappear almost simultaneously. He’ll need to pursue them later. But for now —

“I’m sorry, but I cannot allow you to leave yet.”

…And what’s this? Identical twins?