Chapter Text
Two eyes opened.
And then two more.
Like dominoes falling, the movements accelerate.
Eyes and eyes and eyes open, even though they’re not visible to the human eye. Eyes and eyes and eyes are there, watching, but they never appear. For the face of the Vessel can only house four eyes without crumbling to ash, without the enormous weight of Cursed Energy collapsing it all.
Ryoumen Sukuna has awakened, except she’s not the Sukuna from canon. No, she was once a regular person. Maybe less than, even, with issues stemming from mental health and the burnout that was so common in modern society.
Impossibly, she has several sets of memories.
One is a handfuls of decades of an American girl born in the 2000’s, growing up in a broken household, living through the global shut down, barely getting through college, and apparently witnessing a prophecy through reels and shorts and fanfictions of what would be her next existence. Her name is forgotten.
One is a lifetime being hunted down in the Heian era of Japan, born male with a twin consumed in the womb. Vestiges of his/her brother manifested as Cursed Energy, an extra set of eyes, an extra set of arms, an extra— well, you get it.
One is a lifetime of being the hunter in the Heian era of Japan, having evolved to be a Cursed Spirit. The taste of human flesh, the fun of torture. Ryoumen Sukuna.
And then there is one as a mummified finger. Passing through the generations, being locked and sealed away for times before being stolen or lost. Being devoured by lesser beings, Curses or humans only to survive their exorcisms. Being taken by a woman with stitches across her forehead (‘Itadori Kaori,’ or rather, Kenjaku) and sealed into a pink-haired infant. Being caught between that same infant’s teeth, though fifteen years later that infant has grown into a teenage boy, then swallowed.
And even now, as she manifests herself alive for the first time in a thousand years (give or take a few centuries), she realizes that she is incomplete. She is missing eighteen pieces of herself, eighteen portions of memories, eighteen slivers of her soul. It is agony. It is emptiness.
And she. Is. Hungry.
A hand raises. Pale under the moonlight. Pitch black markings lining it, markings that only Curses or Beings such as herself can see (not even the Six Eyes could tell when they emerged), absorbing the light. Nails growing, elongating, darkening with a glossy purple finish, reflecting it.
Sukuna(?) swipes her hand upwards, and that movement alone is enough to extinguish the life, existence, of a Curse.
Cursed Energy spikes with the exorcism, and Sukuna(?) devours it. Savors it. Absorbs it through her skin, a force not unlike gravity sucking it in. It’s a taste, her first taste, of what is to come. It’s not very filling, but she takes what she can get.
Oh? What is this?
She wastes not even a whiff of the Cursed Energy, stealing it all, hoarding it all. Cannibalizing it. She watches as it all disappears, as there is nothing left of the Curse that thought it could have her power. Then, blessed silence.
Do you really think that you’re the King?
…
A shuddering gasp breaks the silence.
Slowly, she turned her head. But for all that she moved slowly, the effect was that she had been gazing upon him - Fushiguro Megumi - since she had incarnated.
For all that she was across the roof from him, her hand was now reaching to his head, claws outstretched, something almost like Reverse Cursed Energy - but not quite - flaring like a supernova explosion and healing his wounds as fast as a blink.
Sukuna(?) inhales, opens her mouth to speak, and then frantically jumps back to create as much space between herself and Fushiguro, eyes widening in a panic, and—
Sukuna(!) stands, staring up at the full moon. He laughs, he laughs and laughs, unhinged cackles bursting from a wide grin.
All of a sudden, like a dam bursting, malevolent energy fills the air like smoke. Choking, heavy, like a pressure pushing stagnant air down.
“I knew it! The light feels best in the flesh!” The claws that had healed only moments ago dug into the soft fabric of a yellow hoodie and pulled it apart, destroying it with no regard to the fondness of an old and worn piece of clothing. “A Cursed Spirit’s flesh is so boring. So now… where are the people? The women?”
Sukuna(!) discards the scraps of fabric as he steps onto the railing of the roof, overlooking the city.
“What a wonderful era to be reawakened! Women and children are crawling everywhere like maggots, how marvelous! It’ll be a massacre!” Sukuna(!) laughs, laughs and laughs until his face is grabbed by a hand that seemed to have been reaching for his throat, pushing him back and off the railing.
“What do you think you’re doing with my body? Give it back.” That’s the voice of Itadori Yuuji. Who, all in all, seems less impressed than he is confused.
“How are you doing that?” Sukuna(!)’s grin falls. He is confused, he is growing angry. But he is curious - what kind of human body, human vessel, could possibly suppress him?
“Well, it’s my body,” the boy reasons. His logic would be sound, if it were not for the, apparently, two Sukunas within him.
He’s suppressing me?
At least that hasn’t changed.
“Don’t move; you are no longer human!” Fushiguro Megumi - oh, little Ten Shadows, why do you bring attention to yourself in this situation? - puts two fists outwards.
Mahoraga, the Opp Stoppa. Oh, Ten Shadows, it would have been smarter to try to ambush us. It wouldn’t have worked. But it would have more tactically sound.
Mahoraga? Is that a Shikigami?
Oh… you can hear me?
“Under Jujutsu regulations, Itadori Yuuji,” shadows begin to coalesce, “by law I will now exorcise you as a curse!”
And, ironically, by the time Fushiguro Megumi accused Itadori Yuuji of being a curse, the tattoos were gone. Meaning that right now, the boy was just about as human as they come.
“What’s the situation?” Gojo Satoru, SIX EYES AND LIMITLESS, Sugawara?, appearing out of thin air, holding a take-away bag with one hand and his phone in the other, looking like he strolled right out of a photoshoot… while wearing a blindfold.
“Gojo-Sensei!”
”Yeah, I wasn’t going to come at first,” the man yawned, bringing a hand to cover his mouth like it was an afterthought.
That’s right. He’s not taking pictures because Fushiguro’s no longer injured!
“But the higher-ups got involved after hearing that a special-grade object went missing. I agreed to come as long as they let me go sightseeing. So… did you find it?”
Fushiguro’s face fell flat - as if wondering how he was going to explain the situation.
”Um… sorry, I ate it,” Itadori piped up.
Gojo Satoru turned towards him, smile frozen on his face.
”…For real?”
”For real,” both teenagers said at the same time.
In a blink, Gojo is before Itadori, bent down and leaning forward waayyyy into his personal space.
‘Um, geez, his lips are like super shiny,’ are probably not thoughts that Itadori should be having about Fushiguro’s reallypretty teacher, but with how close their faces are he’s kinda surprised he’s able to think at all.
And then Gojo leans forwards even more, and then Itadori actually can’t think at all.
”Damn, it really did combine with you,” Gojo laughed, snickering as he pulled back. “That’s hilarious.”
It really isn’t… Sukuna(?) thinks.
Combined? Sukuna(!) growls. Like a dog.
“Anything off with your body?” Gojo asks, deceptively light-heartedly.
“Uh, not particularly,” Itadori answers, flexing an arm just to check. He could’ve sworn he just saw tattoos on it and super long nails on his fingers…
Oh, you can see that?
“Huh? Who are you?”
…Oh. You can… hear me?
“Yeah?” Drawn from one conversation to another, Itadori Yūji loses focus on the two sorcerers watching him talk to himself. Like a crazy person. Or a possessed person.
Just to be sure, Gojo hands off his take-away bag to Fushiguro and, with one arm, pushes the younger boy behind him protectively.
…you should probably keep talking to Limitless.
With the word ’Limitless,’ an image of impossibly bright, kaleidoscopic blue eyes is projected into Itadori’s vision, so vivid that it actually has him taking a step back and rubbing at his own eyes. Oddly enough, he also has the idea that there are six of them imposed on his mind.
‘Is that what that guy’s eyes look like? Then why is he wearing a blindfold?’ Itadori wondered.
”Oh, right. Sorry, what were you saying?” Itadori focuses back on Gojo, who, as soon as attention was back on him, began… squatting?
“Can you swap out with Sukuna?”
”Sukuna?”
“The Curse you just ate.”
”Oh… yeah, I think I can do that.”
“Just give us ten seconds. One ten seconds are up, come back to us.”
”But-“
“Don’t worry, I’m the strongest.” Gojo begins running through various stretches, almost mockingly. Inviting an ambush, really. “Megumi, listen! So, I bought these kikufuku from Kikusuian. They're Sendai’s specialty and they’re super good! It’s not a souvenir, since I’m going to eat it in the bullet train home, but—“
”Behind you!” Fushiguro screams.
1…
“Kikufuku’s not like other deserts.”
Sukuna(!) is in front of Fushiguro, and Gojo is just sitting on his back. Gojo raises a finger, like he’s bringing up a point.
”The whipped cream inside is simply exquisite!”
2…
Sukuna(!), laughing, spins around to claw at Gojo. Instead of rending flesh from bone, Gojo interlaces their fingers and tosses him aside.
3…
Gojo dodges each subsequent attack, flickering in and out of sight.
“My student’s watching,” he smiles lackadaisically, appearing behind Sukuna and leaning back until he’s able to tilt his head and croon into Sukuna’s ear, “so I’m going to show off a little.”
He’s unbelievably fast. No. There’s something else…
4…
The hand-to-hand combat that Gojo employs is, in his own words, simply exquisite to watch.
5̴͙͚̇̀̕.̷̹̲͑͐͗̚
But that doesn’t stop her from interrupting.
Four eyes close.
“My turn,” Sukuna(?) whispers to herself, to Sukuna(!), as she takes over.
Two eyes opened.
And then two more.
Like dominoes falling, the movements accelerate.
Eyes and eyes and eyes open, even though they’re not visible to the regular human eye. Eyes and eyes and eyes are there, watching, but they never appear. For the face of the Vessel can only house four eyes without crumbling to ash, without the enormous weight of Cursed Energy collapsing it all.
Ryoumen Sukuna(?) has awakened, except she’s not the Ryoumen Sukuna(!) from moments ago.
Six Eyes see the millions of eyes that have opened.