Chapter Text
Yuji had closed his eyes to rest eight days ago. Curled up against Sukuna’s side, the curse had draped his kimono over his vessel’s shoulders to act as a second blanket when the original was not enough. It didn’t stave off the shivering entirely, but there was some comfort in finding that Yuji’s body was able to relax against him underneath the cocoon of cloth.
True to his end of the agreement, Yuji had continued to hold on as best he could.
There had to be some cosmic cruelty responsible for testing Sukuna’s patience. But that did not deter the curse from holding out hope, as any outcome besides their escape would not be accepted. There would be no alternative. Sukuna’s plan had already been set in motion, the curse would see it through no matter what.
Exactly one year into their confinement, Sukuna would finally get his wish.
The seventh finger was returned to him with no warning, just as the previous two. The sheer excitement, the influx of cursed energy returning to his form, the curse was on the verge of cackling in delight. His outburst would be cut short, however, as the moment he was about to shed his inhibitions and laugh to his heart’s content, the light squeeze around his thumb snapped his attention back to his sleeping vessel.
There was barely any strength behind the act, yet it had been enough to prompt Sukuna to reciprocate the gesture and give Yuji’s hand a squeeze in return. After which, a small kiss—no more than a peck—was placed on his vessel’s forehead.
The pain of adding another finger was not doing either of them any favors, but in just a few moments, such things would no longer be of concern.
“It’s time. Hold on just a tad longer.”
Through the unconscious haze his vessel was still within, Sukuna hoped his sentiments made it through. He then turned his gaze up at the ceiling of his domain, assessing the bindings one last time, running through the motions of each piece he would unravel and how quickly he would do so. The curse’s confidence in obtaining their freedom was unparalleled, but he was not blind to the possibility, no matter how minuscule, of something going awry.
Everything had to be perfect.
The curse stilled himself for a moment longer, providing just enough time to allow their captors to believe that all was well within the cage they constructed. Spite fueled the creation of this false sense of security, as it would be the very same sense of accomplishment and relief his vessel felt before they dared to touch him. But even Sukuna had his limits.
Rage shaped his cursed energy into claws, rapidly tearing through the seals surrounding them until Sukuna’s consciousness could propel itself forward. The second his vessel’s limbs were under his control, he burst through the paper wrappings and subsequently fell to the ground, landing on his knees with his hands pressed against the cold stone underneath him.
Oh, how good it felt to stretch his fingers. To move his arms. Lift his legs. Each labored breath was a gift, freeing his accumulated cursed energy from his vessel’s body and alleviating the pressure on the verge of smothering Yuji’s soul beyond repair.
It was his awakening all over again, only it was not moonlight that he woke up to, nor the call to violence in the face of a low-grade cursed spirit. Sukuna opened his eyes to a chamber filled with talismans and seals, lit purely by candlelight, reminiscent of the place his vessel had initially been brought after that Gojo knocked him out upon their first meeting. A glance over his shoulder revealed the chains keeping his vessel’s body in the air, with most of the metal links strewn around his feet.
It was disappointing to find that this was all those sorcerers had used to hold him. While effective for a time, it clearly lacked the ability to be a long-term solution.
How unfortunate...
For them.
Sukuna was not granted the time to linger on the finer details of his prison as the sound of frantic footsteps grew in volume. On the opposing wall of the chamber, the curse noted a large set of stairs leading upward, prompting him to question whether he had been kept underground all this time.
The sudden appearance of two, then four, and ultimately six sorcerers stood along the wall to confront him. It would be more accurate to call them foot soldiers, their energy too pitifully weak and boring to be worth Sukuna’s time. The blades in their hands and the talismans already drawn in preparation further supported this. If any of them possessed a notable offensive technique, they wouldn’t be clinging to their swords so desperately.
Then again, their opponent was Ryomen Sukuna.
The curse could hardly blame them for getting cold feet.
Frustratingly, the terms of Sukuna’s vow with Yuji prevented him from striking first, so he remained carefully observant in their actions for any sign that he could construe as an attack against him. The itch to rip them into pieces and lick their blood from his fingers was calling to him. Already were the hushed whimpers of nervous bodies mocking the curse in his inability to fulfill each and every fear that must be echoing through their minds.
Their staring contest came to a close when one more set of footsteps broke through the silence. Slower than that of their cannon fodder, the lack of a stable rhythm to them gave away the young man’s fear before Sukuna could meet with him eye to eye.
Only wearing nothing but a pair of pants, remnants of his vessel’s school uniform, anyone else would have felt underdressed in comparison to the group before him. All seven wore the same combination of black and white for their hakama pants and kimonos, respectively. But unlike the cowls which covered the lower portions of the other’s faces which prevented any features distinguishing them apart, the young man before him kept his head exposed. The curse did not recognize the dark disheveled hair nor the long ponytail it sported, leaving him unable to determine who these sorcerers were aligned with.
Sukuna would kill them all, regardless.
Aware that his efflux of cursed energy was a beacon to all who could sense it, the curse tapered down the display now that his vessel was in a far more stable condition to house it. While he could not attack first, the curse basked in the fear that his very presence brought, eyeing up the one giving silent orders standing directly in front of him.
The aura the young man possessed did not convince Sukuna he was the mastermind behind this whole affair. And when he finally spoke, there was an underlying quiver to his voice.
“Ryomen Sukuna or his vessel?”
Was Yuji not important enough to address by name?
“You would do well to refer to my vessel by his name, fool. Or had it only taken a year for you sorcerers to forget it?”
All the curse received was silence. Sukuna’s words had given the young sorcerer his answer. And the audacity his captor had to look pained at the revelation of who he was speaking to only further taunted the curse’s inability to strike.
Not yet.
Curiously, the young man closed his eyes, displaying a spark of confidence Sukuna had not anticipated. Now intrigue fought with Sukuna’s fury, winning out only when the sorcerer’s cursed energy spiked, his hands shooting out into the air and his eyes opening wide to challenge the curse with newfound determination.
His defiance in the face of the King of Curses was going to be met with equal force, but when Sukuna moved to form the mudra to call forth his domain, he found his body had been frozen in place. He may as well have been turned to stone.
“Don’t just stand there! Use your seals and restrain him!”
So this was the young sorcerer’s technique? Interesting...
The eyes holding the curse down did not blink, nor did the young sorcerer lower his hands as his underlings got to work. Rushing forward, seals were slapped onto each of the curse’s limbs, his head, and chest, with the intent to lock down the curse’s ability to move or access his cursed energy once the active technique was undone. Each seal burned into Sukuna’s skin and continued to run through his veins—If he were at the same level as he was a year ago, the curse may have been mildly concerned instead of the growing irritable mood.
Seven fingers with no vessel to hold him back… these sorcerers were nothing more than ants to be stomped underfoot, and now the curse deemed it more necessary than ever to embed that lesson into their skulls before they met their end.
Overpowering the technique holding him down was a battle of will and cursed energy, to which Sukuna had enough to bathe in tenfold. To best describe the invisible battle taking place would be to say the curse’s energy targeted his opponent’s eyes, tearing them out with thought alone as he undid the technique. The talismans along his body eroded in the process as five measly strips of paper paled in comparison to the original wrapping that had held him in place for so long.
The young sorcerer fell to his knees, writhing in agony. His trembling hands failed to hold back the blood spewing down his face.
All too eager to leave this odious place, the curse returned to his original plan to do away with the remaining foot soldiers. One gesture was all that it took to drag all six men into his domain, a boisterous laugh echoing across the darkened lake as they fell down into the waters in front of the malevolent shrine. Their blood would intermix with the red waters beneath them a moment after, one by one, the bodies of the sorcerers were shredded vertically with no hint of hesitation—No one should ever claim that Sukuna was incapable of mercy. If someone else hadn’t been on the curse’s mind, he would have been far more creative with his punishment. However…
Sukuna turned around to face his domain’s shrine, able to make out a hint of pink within the shadows. His vessel was still deeply asleep, and as worrying as that was, the curse also found himself grateful. Vow or not, Yuji would not have taken kindly to Sukuna’s handling of those who stood in their way.
Looking down at his vessel’s hands—his hands, they were one and the same—Sukuna flexed his fingers and rolled his shoulders, gaining a better understanding of just how much the physical body had suffered during their time in isolation. The reversed cursed technique would do away with most of the damage, but his primary concern lay with the fatigue which mirrored the soul.
It would be a long time for injuries of that nature to heal, regardless of the curse’s prowess. It was his cursed energy that caused all that damage to begin with.
Sukuna dismissed his domain and turned toward the stairs, paying no mind to the sound of bones crunching underfoot and the blood sticking to his feet. The young sorcerer lay across the bottom step of the stairs, presumably passed out from blood loss or the sheer amount of pain Sukuna had forced upon him. As he moved to step past him, Sukuna flicked his fingers, generating sparks between them which called forth a greater flame. An ability he’d kept to himself, now finding use in setting the room ablaze with one hand trailing the wall. The talismans along the walls were best served for kindling.
Smoke and Sukuna ascended the stairs in companionship. What greeted the curse when he reached the top were a set of cellar doors, left open for the faintest of light to filter down upon him from the early morning sky. Their prison had been in the depths of a small and unassuming Buddhist shrine deep within a forest that the curse couldn’t even begin to guess the name of. The lack of cursed energy in the immediate area suggested that they were far from any village or city, even other sorcerers for that matter.
This was not to say that more would not come if given enough time, but for now there was no immediate danger to be dealt with.
“Hey, brat.” In the physical world, Sukuna’s hands were in his pockets, standing at ease almost in mockery of his counterpart within his innate domain. The curse’s image had returned to Yuji’s side, gently shaking his vessel’s shoulders to coax him awake, even if it was just for a handful of seconds. “Yuji. Wake up.”
“Su…?” It was as close to a word as Sukuna would receive, confused eyes barely holding themselves open in the wake of the sleep still overtaking them.
“Open your eyes just a bit wider, and look.”
Sharing control of their body was strange, but not impossible. The curse stood still, crimson eyes open wide to the sun rising over the treeline, shifting to a golden hue with one soft blink while the secondary set remained in place. The light was warm on their skin, beckoning Sukuna to step further into the illuminated section of the clearing to soak it all in.
Yuji hadn’t made a sound even as his consciousness fell back into the curse’s domain. He didn’t need to speak, as the tiny smile Sukuna felt on their lips was enough.
Begrudgingly, the curse turned back to the smoking temple, taking a deep breath for the subsequent slew of curse words that came from Sukuna’s mouth for not taking hold of the opportunity before him to question any of those men before their slaughter. He had been a bit too single-minded upon his awakening, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.
There was much to be learned from what he already observed, specifically in what the curse could not. No recognition could be found in his memories or his vessel’s of whom those sorcerers were, especially their leader. He’d half expected one of the lesser men to have screamed out a name at the sight of the young sorcerer’s agony, but they had been a tight-lipped group, hadn’t they? What had really surprised the curse was the lack of sorcerers present at all, especially for feeding his vessel another one of his fingers which could be attributed to arrogance on their part.
A group of unknown individuals, none of which sporting the same buttons or attire as the ones associated with that joke of a school his vessel had attended. And speaking of that school… There was no sign of that Gojo anywhere, not even traces of his cursed energy. The same could be said for the few notable students and faculty his vessel had spent a fair amount of time with, which made Sukuna pause for further thought.
Were they truly not involved? Or were they too guilty to appear before his vessel’s prison and see what their actions had wrought? Yuji had believed in their innocence, but Sukuna was inclined to remain skeptical. Whichever was the case, Sukuna had already decided some months ago that he would not tolerate his vessel returning to that school, as even the best scenarios which attributed their sealing to a rogue group of sorcerers would still lead to his vessel’s eventual execution once all twenty fingers were consumed.
Yuji had promised to stay alive for him. While spoken in the moment, Sukuna believed such a statement should apply for the long term, and unlike the curse and his vessel, the school never enacted a formal binding vow to ensure Yuji’s cooperation with his sensei’s plan.
And then there was the matter of his vessel’s recovery…
Sukuna shook his head, lost in the numerous possibilities before him. Returning to the school was out of the question, but that left nowhere else to seek sanctuary so readily. There was a certain individual Sukuna could track down, but he had a feeling that said individual was either involved in their imprisonment or remained idle throughout the whole affair, dissipating any potential faith he may have had in that option to be of any use as far as his vessel’s recovery was concerned.
The curse had yet to witness the full effects of the soul’s damage on Yuji’s physical self, how that would reflect and manifest when his vessel resumed full control, and most importantly, how hard it will be to integrate him back into some semblance of normalcy after the year they spent together. Such thoughts would never have crossed Sukuna’s mind months prior, but now all he could think about was restoring his vessel to his former self, as Yuji’s current state was not how things were supposed to be.
Shamefully, Sukuna wasn’t positive he could pull that off on his own, lacking in all areas when it came to compassion and comfort—the King of Curses was not known to harbor such traits for a reason. His best, at his current understanding, would not be what his vessel needs, which meant that the curse would have to look for someone to assist in this endeavor.
If Sukuna went by whom he trusted, the list only held one member with a possible second being judged on a case-by-case basis. As for whom his vessel trusted… There was one, potentially, which held promise given that he owned a property separate from the school and his vessel had been there before, leaving the address easily accessible within his memory. Given his stance and willingness to interact with a certain sorcerer during the brief time the curse observed him, this candidate appeared promising.
Now all that was left for Sukuna to do was to start walking, trusting his senses to lead him to the nearest sign of civilization. A list formed in the curse’s head, starting with plans to clean himself up and acquire new clothes to keep from rousing the suspicion of other humans he’d inevitably pass by. Learning to navigate this era’s baffling network of public transportation was also a must, as would be learning anything of use pertaining to notable events which had taken place in his absence. Obtaining food was also a must. He wasn’t sure how close they were to Morioka, but his vessel had mentioned wanting to try a certain noodle dish from there.
Sukuna made a note to inquire about the name when Yuji finds it in himself to remain awake long enough for the curse to ask him.