Chapter Text
Sukuna knew the brat would appear in his innate domain eventually.
Where else would his mind go? His vessel was immature, not in age but in ability— not that the former was not true, only that it held no bearing on skill —Yuji had not developed a domain of his own and Sukuna doubted he ever will, which left the brat intruding within the bloodied waters.
The sound of his feet sloshing through the water drew closer with each step, beckoning for Sukuna to open his eyes and acknowledge the brat gazing up at him with his usual breed of discontent.
“Answer me.”
The curse let out a sigh from his throne, leaving only one eye open as he addressed the disrespect. His vessel had been saying something, hasn’t he? Confused noises and exclamations had done nothing but echo throughout the domain since Yuji awakened inside, and just when Sukuna had tuned them out, the brat found a way to force the curse to pay attention, regardless.
“Can’t you come to the conclusion yourself? Or must I hold your hand?”
“If I could, I wouldn’t be asking!” Yuji threw his arms in the air, allowing them to fall back to his sides with force just as a child would throw a tantrum. Fortunately, the brat didn’t remain this way for long, becoming increasingly aware that Sukuna’s face held no satisfaction in his vessel's current state.
Why would he? It was not by Sukuna’s hand that his vessel was standing before him.
Balling his fists in anger was to be expected. But instead of raising them to challenge the King of Curses as he had once before, Yuji shoved them into his pockets before turning his attention to the ceiling and presumably, the world beyond Sukuna's domain.
“So, what? Did I die again?”
“No. Dying would have been preferred.”
“Preferred... To what?”
Sukuna closed his eyes, growing annoyed at just how little working memory his vessel possessed. His silence answered Yuji’s question for him.
“Fine. Don’t tell me.” The brat muttered under his breath. A moment passed in silence, then another as the poor teenager did his best to use that brain of his to understand their situation by tracing through the day’s events. “Let’s see… I was on a mission with Fushiguro and Kugisaki. We were investigating an old shrine in… Morioka? Yeah, that’s right! There was a cursed object that was the source of the deaths, and we split up to… Kugisaki was with the woman who was being targeted. Fushiguro’s dogs picked up something, so he ran off to track it down, and I took care of the cursed object!”
An overly simplistic summary of events, but it would do.
“Yes, you smashed an old statue to pieces, and the day was saved. What followed after?”
“I don’t know what you mean…” Yuji raised his hand to scratch the back of his head, freezing in place when the simple act of touch triggered a phantom pain beneath his fingers. “M-My head! I was hit in the back of the head! I was already hurt, so I fell and then… Nothing. Is this… Am I dreaming—?”
Not quite.
Sukuna flicked the wrist currently free from supporting his tired head. With one finger, he traced a line across Yuji’s neck, numb to the blood which spewed out as a result of his technique. The teenager’s body took a second to register the damage that had been done, wavering and eventually face-planting in the water below after the minor delay. The curse then rose from his macabre throne and descended to his vessel’s body, crossing his arms as he slammed his heel into the teenager’s back and waited.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three—
Bubbles in the water preceded the desperate gasp for air. Limbs flailed underneath Sukuna’s foot, clawing their way to stability before shoving the curse’s foot upward, only for Sukuna to press down harder and force the brat to remain flat on his stomach.
“You —WHY!?” The pair of eyes stared not in horror, but in anger. No longer fearing the common method in which Sukuna would end their talks, Yuji’s hands grabbed his own neck, surprised to find his skin smooth and untouched. The cut had vanished as quickly as it had appeared, leaving no trace of the wound Sukuna had inflicted.
Anger gave way to confusion all over again.
“Why… didn’t I wake up?”
“Why indeed.”
Sukuna unapologetically continued to increase the pressure on the brat’s back with his heel. He wasn’t one to lash out in anger for anger’s sake, though he doubted Yuji would figure out the root of the curse’s deposition unless he told it to him directly. “Can’t you feel it? The bindings wrapped around your skin? As far removed as you may believe this innate domain to be, the sensation of the physical world should trickle down to your mind in some capacity.”
“I…”
There was kindness in allowing the brat a moment to think. To accept the reality literally wrapped around them.
Sukuna was no stranger to the use of talismans. Once upon a millennia ago he himself would make use of them when the occasion required him to, however, most of his experience came from being on the opposing end. At the height of his power, for a sorcerer to wield a talisman hoping to bound his cursed energy or daring to force the King of Curses to bow to their whims was not unheard of, but brought a chorus of laughter over their corpse whenever someone was foolish enough to make the attempt. As a series of cursed objects, however, Sukuna was more than used to having his power confined within ancient wrappings, severing access to the outside world behind a veil of paper crafted with his name in mind—the curse was not humbled in the slightest.
What little of himself was conscious sat back and observed the phenomenon, all the while his contempt for the ones who placed them grew as the years did.
While his vessel was responsible for keeping Sukuna from control over his body as well as use of his techniques, the perception of cursed energy Sukuna had honed and finely tuned throughout his existence had lent itself well to viewing the world in a lens beyond the physical sight of his vessel. Under normal circumstances since his awakening, the slightest of nudges was all that was required to extend his awareness of the energies surrounding his vessel with relative ease. But now? There was nothing beyond the boundaries of his domain. Not a single sliver seeped through the cracks of the seals working to suppress both vessel and curse alike.
The outside world was lost to him one more.
“I’m unconscious.”
“‘Preserved’ would be more accurate. It’s no different from when I kept decay from taking hold of your corpse.” The curse clicked his tongue. “You’ve been captured. To be so easily caught off guard, it’s pathetic.”
Yuji summoned a burst of energy at the insult, slamming his palms into the ground and shoving his body both upward and sideways, effectively rolling in the water which failed to cling to his clothes nor his skin. It wasn’t more than a manifestation after all, created in likeness rather than for the practical purpose of forming a flooded arena with all the proper properties of reality intact. Sukuna’s balance had been shaken as a result of Yuji’s actions, but it was easily reclaimed much to the brat’s disappointment.
Now sitting on the ground and able to face him, his vessel continued to humor the conversation.
“You know, insults aren’t going to change anything. We’re still stuck here.”
“No. But they do bring such joy when spoken.” Sukuna’s grin prompted his vessel to bark back, unafraid of any bite that would surely follow.
“Lazy bastard.”
“Worthless vessel.”
“Says the ancient all-powerful curse trapped inside!”
“And who’s the foolish brat to get trapped alongside me?”
Their volley, while amusing, regrettably accomplished nothing. Which made the brat’s initial point still stand. Yet, the smug expression that followed his vessel’s crude single-fingered gesture continued to prove Sukuna’s point as well.
“Back to the problem at hand. Your sorcerers—”
“You’re wrong.” Yuji’s expression fell immediately, his anger returning as he rose to his feet. Nostrils flared as he snapped back at the curse before him. “I know what you’re going to say. And you’re wrong. They aren’t my sorcerers. Whoever did this has nothing to do with us.”
“Are you sure about that? The detention center—”
“The detention center was because of the higher-ups and our shitty luck that the cursed womb evolved when we arrived! Gojo-sensei said it wouldn’t happen again! We trained all those months to make sure they couldn’t— Whoever did this was someone else.” His vessel was so determined in the way he spoke, it was nauseating. Sukuna would not be so easily convinced of such a display. Especially when the brat’s voice wavered subtly underneath his words. Yuji must know this, yet he continued on. “Fushiguro and Kugisaki will figure out I’m missing and find me. Gojo-sensei too. You’ll see. It might take some time, but they’ll pull through.”
“Believe what you will. There is no use in arguing denial.”
The curse left his vessel where he stood, uninterested in drawing circles in the ensuing discussion that would have followed. The shouting which came as a result only further enforced Sukuna’s position on finding his vessel’s voice grating, left to ponder whether he should actively plug his ears or if tearing through the brat’s vocal cords again would be a viable long-term solution.
“Where are you going?”
“Back to my throne. You bore me.”
“My apologies for boring you, oh great Sukuna-sama.” Sukuna glanced over his shoulder to witness his vessel performing an exaggerated bow. “But you aren’t exactly sunshine and roses either. Asshole.”
For that, Sukuna commanded his cursed energy into the shape of five phantom blades, a limb each alongside the head, dismantling the sight of his vessel within mere moments after the initial thought graced his mind. Such retaliation would only grant the curse a silence so painfully brief, thus he made the most of it as his vessel’s image reconstructed itself in the spot he left behind. An outburst was almost certain to follow, but those could be tuned out if given enough time. Given their circumstance, Sukuna was left to assume they would have more than enough of it at their disposal.
Their waiting game had only just begun.