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Surprisingly, Yuuji assimilated to sharing his body with another being very, very fast.
Sure at first it was strange, why wouldn't it be? To have another voice in your head. Squabbling at you for control, they called Sukuna the great 'King of Curses' but really, to Yuuji. He was nothing more than a little fly buzzing around his head.
At best.
Of course the downside to that, is Sukuna can feel Yuuji just as much as Yuuji can feel Sukuna.
Which is why the insistent tug on his mind isn't too alarming. It's not one that he uses for forcible control over Yuuji's (their.) body. More like… a dog nipping at his pant leg, or maybe like a tug on the hair.
"I heard that, brat." Sukuna's mouth forms on his cheekbone. The lips are curled back into a snarl, Yuuji should be scared, alarmed. But instead his soul just warms with humor.
Sukuna tugs again, Yuuji cannot help the way his neck snaps back. Just a little.
"And I do not appreciate being equated to a dog or fly." The ghost of the hand tugging at his hair leaves, it had been so strange at first. Sukuna wasn't… warm per say, nor was he cold. He was simply a presence, a feeling and an entire sensation only of his own.
"Sorry."
"You're not."
"Mm." Yuuji made a non-committal noise in the back of his throat. Sukuna simmered, but he didn't snap or growl. It took a few days to a week for his constant degradations of Yuuji's character and aspirations to quiet down. Then, started another week of complaints about Yuuji being like a monk.
He didn't think he was like a monk. Monks had to give up too many things in life, electronics, clothes, sexual pleasures (not that Yuuji had much experience in sexual pleasures other than the feel of his own fist, still, he'd like to experience it with somebody one day. Even if they didn't look like Jennifer Lawrence.) and didn't they have to give up certain food? Taking only what is given and—
"Do you ever stop thinking?" Sukuna groaned.
—What if he had to give up chocolate chip pancakes!
"What are chocolate pancakes?" Sukuna inquired, with far more genuine curiosity than Yuuji anticipated. It knocks against his solid soul so hard, that for a brief second. Yuuji also struggled to remember what they are.
"They are uhm… you don't know what a pancake is?"
"I am from the heian era," Sukuna said flatly. Yuuji could almost picture the curse and his face. Like his own but a little more broader, older, defined around the edges. It was a nice look, with his black marking and pushed back hair.
"Right." Yuuji clears his throat and subsequently, his mind. "You're old."
"Brat." Sukuna growled, and Yuuji laughs loud, rolling off his bed where he'd been laying and daydreaming and conversing with the thousand year old curse that existed inside his body. It was strange to others, Yuuji knew it, but he couldn't help but indulge Sukuna. Not the demands for complete takeover of his body and the utter massacre of the earth, that was a bit excessive and a bit more than Yuuji was willing to give.
But the simple questions, like: what are chocolate chip pancakes? Is one Yuuji could fulfill.
And sometimes, Yuuji thought Sukuna indulged him too. He wasn't kind about it in the slightest; he mocked Yuuji and cursed him and degraded him. But at the very least the young sorcerer always came away a little more knowledgeable. Maybe Sukuna simply liked the sound of his own voice, or maybe he held the same curiosity Yuuji did, wondering what the being he coexisted with was like.
"Where are you going?" One of Sukuna's crimson eyes rolled out, assessing as Yuuji left his room and went elsewhere. His questions were always short and curt, nothing sounded polite and always like a demand. Yuuji didn't mind, a normal person would've minded. But Yuuji didn't for just some odd reason. Perhaps that came with being a vessel.
"It comes with whatever is wrong with you." The insistent mouth on his cheekbone snipped, Yuuji rolled his shoulders in a shrug. If there was something wrong with him not minding Sukuna's rather rude ways, then there was something wrong with Sukuna for not always going into a rage when Yuuji didn't take him seriously.
(Sukuna huffs at that too, but there is no denial.)
The trek to the common room kitchen is nice and simple. For once, it wasn't a hectic day. Nobara and Megumi were out — doing something and Yuuji had spent the day napping it away. Not too much though, because the sun is still fairly high and nice and soft, the greenery is bright and vivid. The silence might've been comforting, but Sukuna was hardly, if ever, truly silent.
Which is why it's kind of jarring when Sukuna is silent as Yuuji hits the kitchen. It's clean and put together, stocked with some basic necessities provided by the academy. But any indulgent snacks was on the students and their salary while they attended.
Thankfully. Though. Pancake mix and milk was something already provided.
Hopefully, he thought. As Yuuji pulled out a plastic container and began to shake the mix inside, it spilled and dusted the counter as usual. Sukuna didn't stir. Not against his soul or cheek or even in his mind.
So Yuuji filled the silence with the sound of box and bag crinkling, the scrap of a whisk hitting the sides of a bowl and the wet noise that came with batter, sprinkling in chocolate chips he thinks might've been from Nobara.
The pan warmed before pouring the batter in, he watches it spread out into an uneven circle. Sukuna is still quiet, so, Yuuji fixates his attention on testing the edges of the pancake. Watching it begin to bubble and pop to signal the underneath is cooked.
He flips it with minimal struggle, biting his tongue to not let it fold in on itself. The spatula has the slightest bit of melted chocolate on it and Yuuji scraps a bit off, sucking it from his finger.
"Is it done yet?" Sukuna questions suddenly, Yuuji isn't startled though. If anything, he is kind of relieved. No mouth or eyeball form on his face though, the matured voice is just in his head for now.
"Almost," he answered verbally. Even though Sukuna could read… feel? His thoughts. Yuuji just liked the action of it. It made him feel less lonely in a way.
Sukuna huffs again at lonely.
"You truly must be a vessel, to exist so lonely even when surrounded by other people. Tell me, Itadori. Do you feel comforted by my presence so much? Even though I still for all the things you despise? I've given not one person an 'honorable death' yet, you seem to not despise me."
Yuuji hums thoughtfully, pressing the cooked side of the pancake down for the pan to sizzle. "I don't despise you, I do despise the things you've done."
"That doesn't make sense." Sukuna points out, a crimson eye rolling to stare at the pancake cooking. How its insides squished out because Yuuji made the batter too thick with not enough milk. It reminded Sukuna, oddly, of all the times he'd ever plucked a curse or humans organs out. Watched as they turned to nothing but fluids as they were crushed underneath one of his many hands.
He blinks, and the memories flood in Yuuji's mind. Desecrated temples and mangled bodies. Pools of blood so large it looked like the eighth sea. A twisted pleasure floods his body as Sukuna recalls it fondly. The bristle of those black marks threaten to break out, streaking Yuuji's skin. They were an omen of Sukuna, and Yuuji was his messenger.
"I know." Yuuji inhales sharply, picking up the scent of the sweet pastry. It burnt a little bit underneath, stalled from flipping it as a gruesome history lesson flipped in his mind like the worlds most uncomfortable PowerPoint Presentation.
He flips it over to a plate, dark brown-black side up.
"Grandpa. It's burnt!"
"It's food, isn't it?!"
Sukuna's pleasure hisses away, like a serpent pushed back into its cave.
Wasuke always made his pancakes just like this, non-purposefully. The man was a bit of a lousy cook, he made sure the meat was cooked all the way through to avoid any sickness. Not needing Yuuji's hospital bills on top of his own, but the seasoning was always just a little off, or the vegetables and fruits were a day away from being soggy. Yuuji didn't complain though, not after the first year. Food was food, and Wasuke tried.
So, Yuuji savored every pancake that was too thick, with the inside softly uncooked just enough to be gooey. The burnt edges and the way Wasuke never poured enough syrup or spread enough butter. Eventually, Yuuji got old enough to make his own pancakes. And Wasuke got too old to stand over the kitchen.
He could still, though. Remember the morning before the hospital finally brought Wasuke in for what was the last time. How Yuuji had woken up on a Sunday morning, uncharacteristically early for himself. He'd slunked to their kitchen, scratching the skin of his belly that was still warm with sleep. And there had been Grandpa, cranky, tired. With that permanent frown etched into his face as he flipped a too thick and slightly undercooked pancake.
The words shouldn't you be in bed? Were on Yuuji's tongue as he sat at their table, knowing better than to ask because he'd likely get a hot spatula to the side of his head.
It had tasted overly sweet and very much like unflavored batter, and had been perfect.
"You really are so lonely, aren't you?" Sukuna questions, his second most genuine, and twice in one day! Yuuji is really on a roll.
But what is staggering is the softness in the question, a true perplexity. The serpent comes out of his den not to coil but to flick his tongue curiously, and Yuuji, as always. Indulges him.
Just as Sukuna did him.
He uses his fork to cut into the soft pastry with not enough butter or syrup, the edges are browned and flaky. He places it on his tongue and chews silently.
"Do you want some?" He asks, already cutting a piece off because he can feel that Sukuna's curiosity is piqued, metaphorically inching closer to observe and sniff and flick.
'Not a dog.' Rings in his head, smiling lightly as he brings the piece of food to the side of his cheek. Sukuna's lips don't budge for a second, tightly shut and flat in a prudent distaste.
A second later, they part. And Yuuji's arm jerks without his consent to feed the mouth, and promptly shivers.
Shivers as Sukuna chews. Making a thoughtful noise as the pancake becomes soft and mushy and formless, shivers as he swallows. Shivers as Yuuji can feel the way it passes through his body into his stomach to be digested later. It's weird, it's strange, it— (feels right.)
"What do you think?" Yuuji questions, the feeling of his arm being his returns in soft tingles that felt like sparks on his skin. "Is it fit for a King?"
"It is not the sweetest, most delicate pleasure that I've ever tasted before."
A beat of silence, the being inside his soul shifts. And for a second—
They align.
"But it is better than a curse." Sukuna concedes, Yuuji can imagine him turning his head away so he didn't need to look Yuuji in the eyes as he admitted it was good in his own backwards way. The thought made him laugh lightly and stuff another piece in his mouth.
"Want more?" It was silly to question, to indulge, to reminisce. Sukuna was a curse, bestowed the same fate as Yuuji. To be executed when all his fingers had been absorbed, it wasn't a fate that Yuuji wanted per say but if he went to his death with all fingers in his body, and Sukuna too.
Then at least he'd kinda would fulfill his Grandpa's wish.
And as Sukuna opens his mouth for more slightly undercooked-overcooked pancake, Yuuji thinks that maybe, Sukuna might be lonely too.