Chapter Text
The summer heat radiating off the Tokyo asphalt was no joke, but Yuuji was entirely unfazed. He held his soft-serve cone happily, taking a massive bite out of the soft cold tongue-numbing goodness treat before it could even think about melting.
"Man, nothing beats ice cream after training," Yuuji said, his voice muffled by the mouthful of vanilla.
Deep inside the innate domain, lounging lazily atop his throne of skulls. Sukuna opened one crimson eye to glance at the outside world. The King of Curses scoffed, his voice echoing clearly in Yuuji's mind.
‘Vanilla is so boring. You should’ve gone with something more interesting, like matcha.’
Yuuji scrunched up his nose while he looked at the dessert in his hand, trying to defend his choice.
“It’s not boring. It’s a classic!”
Then he grinned over at Nobara and Megumi. "We should make this a weekly thing. Seriously."
Nobara wiped a stray drop of sweat from her brow, fanning herself with a brochure. "If you're paying next time, Itadori, sure. And only if we go somewhere with better AC. My hair is going to frizz into a curse if we stay out here much longer."
Megumi just sighed, his own cone already half-eaten in perfectly sized-bites. "Just don't walk and eat so fast. You're going to get a brain freeze, and I'm not carrying you back to the dorms."
“Hey, I won’t!”
For some reason, the vanilla flavor was so uninteresting to Sukuna that he’d start arguing about it to his vessel.
‘And that’s why you’re boring. You can eat all of it.’
'Aw, come on, Sukuna, you're missing out!' Yuuji shot back mentally, not losing his stride as they approached a wide crosswalk. 'If you were nicer, maybe I'd let you taste it.'
'I would rather swallow glass,' Sukuna snapped back, trying to argue against jis vessel like an annoying roommate sharing the same room together.
Perhaps that’s what it was. Sukuna had been more than accommodating ever since they shared the same body and talked it out... like normal people.
... as much as a curse could be.
The pedestrian light blinked green. Nobara stepped off the curb first, still complaining about the humidity with Megumi a step behind her. Yuuji took another huge gulp of his ice cream, stepping up right alongside them.
Suddenly, a strange, low sound vibrated through the street. It wasn't the usual hum of Tokyo traffic. It sounded almost... weirdly rumbly?
Down the avenue, a massive shadow loomed, barreling straight toward the intersection.
Vrooooooooooooom.
A truck the size of a small van ran along the road at a dangerous speed, behind the dark-tinted window there's no one behind the wheel, but it's way too fast to really see.
It came rushing in... right at Yuuji!
"Hey, watch out-!"
Megumi’s warning was cut off by the sheer, deafening roar of the engine. Time seemed to slow down as the truck bore down on the intersection, tires screeching violently against the road.
Nobara gasped, instinctively leaping backward onto the sidewalk, her brochure fluttering to the ground. Megumi lunged forward, his hand quickly reaching out to pull Yuuji back, his eyes wide with sudden panic.
Inside Yuuji's mind, Sukuna's eyes snapped completely open, his lazy posture instantly vanishing. 'Brat, move!'
Yuuji stood frozen for a fraction of a second, his ice cream cone dropping from his hand as the massive shadow of the driverless vehicle loomed directly over him.
The truck slammed right into him.
Gasp!
Yuuji shot upright in his chair, his hands slamming onto the wooden desk with a loud thwack that echoed through the classroom. His heart was hammering against his ribs, eyes darting frantically around the room.
There was no Tokyo street. No truck coming right at him, why was there a truck running a red light? No melting ice cream.
Just the monotonous hum of an old air conditioner along with the rhythmic scratching of chalk against a blackboard, and the familiar, boring walls of Sugisawa Third High School.
Up at the board the teacher paused, a piece of chalk hovering mid-air and threw a thoroughly unimpressed look over his shoulder.
"Itadori. Nice of you to join us. If my lecture on Heian literature is putting you to sleep, feel free to stand in the back." A few students giggled.
Yuuji didn't even hear them. He was staring at his own hands, opening and closing his fists. 'Wait... what?! Fushiguro? Kugisaki?!'
'What. What just happened.' A familiar voice rang out within his mind as Sukuna shook his head to get rid of the water in his hair after falling from his throne like a graceful swan.
Yuuji’s jaw dropped. Mentally, he looked down into the innate domain, his eyes widening at the sight of the King of Curses looking like a drowned rat.
'Sukuna?! Are you okay?!' Yuuji thought back, completely bewildered.
'Just peachy.' Sukuna grumbled. The water splashed under his feet as he slowly got up to squeeze out the heavy soaked kimono sleeves.
'Where did the water even come from?! Wait, more importantly- where are we?! Did we get hit by a truck and... teleported back to my old school?!'
‘The water is always here-’
...
Sukuna stared up ahead in his domain before his eyes widened and looked in disbelief. No way.
'... I think you just got isekai-ed by a truck.'
Yuuji’s jaw dropped so low it almost hit his desk. He stared blankly at the chalkboard, his brain short-circuiting as he tried to process the absolute absurdity of the words echoing in his head.
'Isekai-ed?!' Yuuji shrieked mentally, his internal voice cracking. 'Like... like in those light novels?! By a truck?! Is that even possible?!'
Up front, the teacher snapped his chalk against the board. "Itadori! If you're quite finished gaping like a landed carp, please read the passage on page forty-two."
Yuuji blinked, his muscle memory kicking in as he automatically grabbed his textbook and stood up. He flipped the pages frantically, his eyes scanning the text while his mind was still completely trapped in a state of panic. 'Wait, if we're back here, does that mean Grandpa is...?'
He checked the date on the classroom clock. It was definitely a normal, boring school day. No curses. No execution orders hanging over his head. Just normal... normal high school.
'Hey, Sukuna,' Yuuji thought, keeping his eyes on the book but focusing heavily inward, his tone shifting from panicked to genuinely baffled.
'If we’re at my old high school... why are you still in my head? And why is your throne room still flooded?! Did the truck hit your domain too?!'
'What, no! Why would the truck-? And no, it's always flooded-' Sukuna rubbed his temples, '-not flood, it's an aesthetic.'
'An aesthetic?!' Yuuji echoed, his mental voice incredulous as he pictured the fearsome King of Curses sloshing around in ankle-deep domain water while trying to look menacing. 'Right. Sure. Whatever you say, ancient evil sorcerer lord.'
‘I can hear the sarcasm!’
Sukuna carefully borrowed Yuuji's sight to look outside the world. Everything seemed perfectly normal. So normal in fact, he could not sense any cursed energy in this room.
'Maybe I'm just that stuck inside of your body that I'm also here. Also no cursed energy around that I can sense either.'
Outwardly, Yuuji cleared his throat and hurriedly stumbled his way through reading the passage on page forty-two, his voice a bit rushed but accurate enough to satisfy the teacher.
"Very good, Itadori. Sit down and pay attention," the teacher sighed, turning back to the board.
Yuuji dropped back into his seat, leaning forward and propping his chin in his hands to make it look like he was staring at his textbook. In reality, his mind was racing at Sukuna's observation.
'Wait, you can't feel any cursed energy at all?' Yuuji thought, his brow furrowing as he glanced around the classroom. He focused, trying to tap into that familiar warm heavy spark within his own chest. It was still there, but the air around him felt completely empty, lacking the usual ambient dread or lingering negativity of a school.
'Whoa, you're right. It feels... totally blank out there. Like the whole world is turned off.'
He blinked as the realization of Sukuna's second point set in.
'So... we really are stuck together. Even in a completely different universe where none of this stuff exists.' A strange, small smile tugged at the corner of Yuuji's mouth, a sudden wave of relief washing over his initial panic.
'Well... I guess if I'm gonna be stranded here, I'm glad I don't have to figure it out alone. Even if you’re a grumpy curse.'
The school bell suddenly rang out, signaling the end of the period. Instantly, the classroom erupted into the loud chatter of students packing up their bags and already prepared to leave the room.
‘I’m only grumpy because you’re annoying.’
Yuuji let out a silent, physical snort, quickly covering his mouth with a hand as he stood up from his desk. He slung his yellow backpack over one shoulder, blending in with the sea of students pouring out into the hallway.
Sukuna had never known Yuuji before the time he ate that finger on that fateful day on the rooftop. So this will be a little awkward to ask.
'Do you still live alone?'
At Sukuna’s sudden question, Yuuji paused for a split second in the doorway, his brow furrowing.
'Huh? Yeah, of course I do,' Yuuji thought back, a familiar heavy pang of sadness hitting his chest. He fell into step along the corridor, heading toward the shoe lockers.
'Ever since Grandpa got admitted to the hospital, it’s just been me at the house. I usually head straight there after the Occult Club to check on him, but... wait.'
Yuuji blinked, stopping dead in his tracks right in the middle of the hallway. A few students swerved around him, shooting him annoyed glances for interrupting the flow.
'If this is before all the curse stuff happened... does that mean Grandpa is still in the hospital right now? Or did the truck rewrite that too?'
Before he could spiral further into his thoughts, a loud, cheerful voice shattered his concentration.
"Hey, Itadori! You're finally awake!"
Sasaki, the president of the Occult Research Club, came jogging up the hallway, waving a strange, old piece of paper in her hand. Iguchi was trailing just behind her, looking equally excited.
"Look what we found in the library archives during the third period!" Sasaki beamed, thrusting the paper right under Yuuji's nose.
"It's a map of the school grounds from the Meiji era! We're planning a stakeout tonight to look for ghosts near the old rugby field. You're definitely coming, right?"
Yuuji stared blankly at the map, his mind racing.
No curses. Just normal, goofy occult club stuff.
'You know what. Just give it a go. It's not like ghosts are real.' Sukuna stuck out his tongue and glanced to the side as he shrugged. More than happy to tease and make fun of his vessel.
'Bring an ouija board even.' He brought his hand up as he closed all of his four eyes, 'I swear that I will not mess with the board... maybe.'
Yuuji let out an involuntary wheeze, desperately trying to stifle a laugh right in front of Sasaki and Iguchi.
'You are definitely going to mess with it,' Yuuji shot back mentally, his eyes smiling with amusement. 'If a ghost actually shows up, you're probably gonna manifest a mouth on my hand just to call it a loser.'
"Earth to Itadori?" Sasaki waved the old Meiji-era map closer to his face, eyebrows raised. “You're doing that weird blank stare again. Are you in for the legendary Sugisawa rugby field phantom?"
"Oh! Yeah, I'm totally in!" Yuuji grinned, rubbing the back of his neck and snapped back to reality.
"A stakeout sounds awesome. But hey, actually... I gotta run home first and check on something real quick. Can I meet you guys at the school gates around dusk?"
"Deal!" Sasaki beamed, rolling up the paper like a scroll. "Don't back out, Itadori! We're meeting right at seven!"
With a wave, the two occult club members headed down the hall, leaving Yuuji to jog toward the shoe lockers. He swapped his indoor shoes for his sneakers, his mind already turning and flipping about like someone throwing pancakes around in his head.
Curses didn't exist here. The world felt empty of negative energy. But his house was still there.
Ten minutes later, Yuuji was jogging down the familiar, quiet streets of his neighborhood. The sun was starting its slow descent, painting the sky in warm oranges and purples. He turned the final corner, expecting the dark and empty house he had grown used to returning to.
Instead, as he neared the front gate, he froze.
The front porch light was already turned on. The heavy scent of simmering miso soup and grilled mackerel drifted right through the open kitchen window. And sitting on the porch porch steps, aggressively swatting at a mosquito with an old newspaper, was his grandfather. Alive, well, and looking thoroughly annoyed by the bugs.
Inside the domain, Sukuna felt the sudden massive spike of pure shock and emotional whiplash radiating from Yuuji's soul.
Sukuna peered from inside and mentally reached out to poke at Yuuji's cheek.
'What's wrong? Isn't your house supposed to be empty?'
The sudden, phantom jab to Yuuji’s cheek snapped him right out of his trance. He stumbled forward in an uneven step, his eyes locked entirely on the old man sitting on the porch.
His backpack slipped off one shoulder, dangling loosely from his hand. He couldn't even formulate a response to Sukuna. His brain was entirely trapped in the sheer impossibility of what he was seeing.
Was he dreaming? Was this some kind of cruel curse trick? But there were no curses here. The world felt completely, undeniably blank. And that old man swatting at bugs with a rolled-up newspaper looked way too real, way too stubborn and way too alive.
Alive.
"The hell are you standing there gaping at, Yuuji?" Wasuke barked, not even looking up as he brought the newspaper down against his knee. "You look like you've seen a ghost. Get inside and wash your hands. Dinner's getting cold."
Yuuji took a shaky breath, his throat tightening up. 'Sukuna...' he managed to think back, his internal voice trembling with a swirling mix of overwhelming disbelief and raw, bubbling joy. 'He's... he's not in the hospital. He's right there.'
Without another word, Yuuji practically bolted up the walkway, his sneakers slamming loudly against the concrete.
Yuuji didn't even drop his bag. He just lunged forward and threw his arms around the old man, burying his face into the shoulder of Wasuke’s faded house jinbei.
Wasuke froze, the rolled-up newspaper hovering mid-air. For a second, the old man just stared blankly at the garden hose, completely paralyzed by the sudden aggressive display of affection. Then, his face twisted into an irritated scowl, though his cheeks flushed a faint stubborn pink.
"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Wasuke barked, trying to shove Yuuji off with an elbow, though he didn't actually push very hard. "Get off me, you brat! You're getting sweat all over my clean clothes! Did you fail a test or something?!"
Yuuji didn't care. He just squeezed tighter for a second longer before finally stepping back, a massive, slightly watery grin plastered across his face. "No! Just... missed you, Grandpa!"
"I saw you this morning!" Wasuke huffed, swatting the newspaper against Yuuji's arm. "Go wash up. The fish is going to get cold and I didn't spend an hour over a hot stove just for you to let it ruin."
As Wasuke grumbled his way back into the kitchen, grunting about 'dramatic teenagers,' Yuuji kicked off his sneakers and stepped onto the polished wood floors. The smell of the dashi broth and grilled fish was overwhelming, wrapping around him like a warm blanket in winter's night.
'Ah, homecook meal.' Sukuna muttered from the back of Yuuji's mind as he tried to keep himself on the down low under the gaze of Yuuji's caretaker. So he busied himself with inspecting the house instead.
His sight landed on the small, dusty wooden frame resting on the corner table. A photo of a much younger, chubby-cheeked Yuuji holding up a beetle, with a younger, slightly less wrinkled Wasuke looking begrudgingly proud in the background.
It looked lived in. There's even a family picture in the corner of the living room.
‘You must’ve missed this.’
Yuuji walked into the bathroom, turning on the tap to wash his hands, staring at his reflection in the mirror. He looked exactly the same as before. No scars.
'Yeah,' Yuuji replied softly in his mind, splashing cold water on his face to ground himself. 'It's perfect. But... I still don't get why we're here. Or how we get back. If we even can.'
"Yuuji!" Wasuke's voice shouted from the dining room, followed by the heavy clatter of a miso bowl hitting the table. "If you aren't at this table in five seconds, I'm eating your portion too!"
The house felt warm and alive. A home-y feel to the previous bleak and quiet home of Yuuji's previous life before everything happened. It felt weird to Yuuji, though at the same time he couldn't help but feel grateful.
The small dining room was bathed in the warm golden glow of the overhead light. The table was simple, cluttered with the mismatched ceramic bowls of steaming rice next to the rich dark brown of the miso soup with some seaweed and tofu. The perfectly charred skin of the grilled mackerel placed in the middle of the dinner table.
Wasuke was already digging in, grumbling under his breath about the rice being a bit too soft, but he had still portioned out the largest piece of fish onto Yuuji's plate.
Yuuji sat down, sliding his legs under the table. He picked up his chopsticks, pressing his hands together out of instinctual habit.
"Itadakimasu," he murmured, his voice thick with an emotion he was trying desperately to swallow down.
He took a bite of the fish. It tasted exactly like home.
Before the fingers, before curses, and before the suffocating weight of an execution order.
Sukuna watched as they sat down to eat dinner. A small quiet moment between a grandfather and a grandson. It almost made Sukuna feel like he's intruding on the moment between them.
'Do you even want to go back?' He asked genuinely after seeing how happy Yuuji looked.
Yuuji froze, his chopsticks hovering just a millimeter above his rice bowl. The warmth of the food in his mouth suddenly felt heavy on his tongue.
Wasuke sighed quietly, reaching across the table to tap Yuuji’s bowl with the back of his own chopsticks. "Don't just stare at it, Yuuji. Eat. You're skinny enough as it is."
Yuuji blinked back a sudden prickle of something wet in his eyes and forced a quick, bright grin for his grandfather. "Right! It's really good, Grandpa."
But mentally, he went quiet.
'Sukuna...' Yuuji thought back, his internal voice soft and almost quiet. He hesitated. 'I...'
Sensing his unusual indecisiveness, Sukuna waved his hand to stop him from saying anything more.
'You can think about it later.'
His eyes flickered to the food on the table before pushing at Yuuji to talk to his grandfather some more.
'I think it would be fine if you wanted to talk about your time as a sorcerer with him. A weird dream. Conversation starter.'
Yuuji's breath hitched slightly in his throat. He had braced himself for a lecture, or maybe a scoff, but the sudden dismissal and the quiet push to just focus on his grandfather caught him completely off guard.
'Sukuna...' Yuuji thought, a wave of immense gratitude washing through his chest. He offered a small, internal nod to the King of Curses before focusing entirely back on the physical world.
He swallowed a mouthful of the savory mackerel, the familiar taste anchoring him to the present. He looked across the table at Wasuke, who was aggressively picking at a piece of ginger, looking as stubborn as ever.
"Hey, Grandpa," Yuuji started, clearing his throat. "I had the weirdest dream during class today. Like, seriously crazy."
Wasuke didn't look up from his bowl, but his eyebrows twitched upward. "Hmph. If it involved you failing your midterms, it wasn't a dream, it was a premonition. Eat your vegetables."
"No, nothing like that!" Yuuji laughed, the tension finally leaving his shoulders. He leaned forward, gesturing with his chopsticks. "I dreamed I moved to Tokyo and got enrolled in this super exclusive secret school. And get this, I was fighting these crazy giant monsters born from negative human emotions. Like a real-life anime hero!"
Wasuke paused, his chopsticks hovering. He finally looked up, fixing Yuuji with a long, hard stare that made Yuuji wonder if he had somehow crossed a line.
Then, the old man let out a loud, mocking snort. "Exclusive school? Monsters? You've been reading too much of that weekly manga trash, Yuuji. With those thick skulls of yours, the only thing you'd be fighting in Tokyo is the subway rush hour."
Yuuji grinned, completely unfazed by the jab. It felt so incredibly normal. 'See?' he communicated inwardly to Sukuna, his mental voice light and bouncing again. 'Told you he wouldn't believe it.'
'Because it sounded crazy.' Sukuna snorted out loud before curiously nudging at the thin surface between the control of their body. Huh, wait a minute. He could still form a mouth outside.
He took another huge bite of rice, turning his attention back to his grandfather. "Hey, but seriously, if I ever did go to Tokyo, you'd come visit, right? You could see the city!"
Wasuke clicked his tongue sharply, setting his bowl down loudly. "Why the hell would I go to Tokyo? Too many people, too much noise and the food tastes like cardboard. If you go, you go alone. Now stop talking nonsense and pass the soy sauce."
When Wasuke was distracted by tipping the soy sauce into his bowl over the fish, Sukuna discreetly formed a mouth within Yuuji's palm to snag a whole piece of the fish from his chopstick before disappearing.
Yuuji’s hand froze mid-air, his chopsticks holding nothing but empty air.
'It tastes good.' Sukuna said with a smug look, 'Looks like your body is still the same, just without the scars for me to open my eyes to see outside.'
Yuuji stared down at his bare palm. The phantom sensation of teeth snapping shut against his skin was still tingling and the sudden, smug voice echoing in his head confirmed the absolute worst.
The King of Curses was a thief.
'Sukuna! You jerk, that was the biggest piece!' Yuuji yelled mentally. 'And don't just manifest mouths on my hands at the dinner table! What if Grandpa saw?!'
‘He didn’t, did he?’
"What are you doing, shaking like a wet dog?" Wasuke grumbled, setting the soy sauce bottle back down. He looked up, his sharp old eyes instantly catching Yuuji staring wide-eyed at his empty chopsticks. "And where the hell did your fish go? Did you drop it on the floor?"
Wasuke leaned over, peering suspiciously under the table to look for the missing food.
Yuuji frantically swallowed his panic, quickly bringing his empty chopsticks to his mouth and pretending to chew furiously. "N-Nothing! Dropped it right in my mouth! Classic speed-eating, you know me, Grandpa!"
Wasuke slowly sat back upright, giving Yuuji a look of profound disappointment. "You eat like a pig. If you choke, I'm not helping you. I'm too old for that."
Mentally, Yuuji was glaring daggers right down into the innate domain. Though a small, secret part of him was relieved to hear Sukuna actually complimenting something for once. 'You owe me a piece of fish later,' Yuuji huffed internally. 'This is a highway robbery!'
‘What, you want me to regurgitate the fish back out?’
‘... no- don’t… don’t do that.’
After finishing the rest of the meal under Wasuke's watchful, judgmental glare, Yuuji helped clear the table, the rhythmic clatter of dishes keeping his racing mind grounded. Before he knew it, the clock on the wall ticked closer to 6:45 PM.
The sun had completely dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky a deep purple.
"Hey, Grandpa," Yuuji said, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel as he headed toward the front door. "I'm heading out for a bit. The Occult Club is doing a... uh, study session at the school. Don't wait up!"
"Don't do anything stupid!" Wasuke shouted back from the living room, not tearing his eyes away from the evening news. "And lock the gate if you're back late!"
Yuuji slipped his sneakers back on and stepped out into the cool night air. The streetlights were just flickering to life, casting long shadows across the pavement. As he started his jog back toward Sugisawa Third High with Sukuna watching from the backseat.