Work Text:
Shibuya Station
October 31, 2018
Surrounded by special grade curses, grotesque transfigured humans, and innocent civilians being used as meat shields, Gojo couldn't help but smile. It was clear that the curses had planned this out extensively. Every factor had been considered, every variable accounted for. He couldn't use his domain expansion for fear of harming the civilians around him, the curses had their domain amplification technique to counter his Limitless, and with every second he spent thinking over his next move, that was another dozen or so lives lost.
It was, all in all, not a bad plan.
But at the same time...
His smile disappeared.
For them to think that they can defeat him like this, it was an insult of the highest degree. He could practically feel their satisfied smugness, as if they genuinely thought they had the upper hand in this battle.
His lips thinned. It seemed that they held several misconceptions about his strength.
It was his prerogative to rectify that.
"You serious?" one of the curses, Mahito, breathed in disbelief.
Domain Expansion.
Unlimited Void.
His most powerful technique. The pinnacle of jujutsu sorcery. His inner world imposed onto the fabrics of reality.
0.2 seconds.
That was all it took to incapacitate everyone in the station, their brains unable to handle the raw input of information. Any longer than that and all the humans would've instantly died, but Gojo had calculated well in his estimations, and so they were merely left unconscious.
Bending his knees, Gojo exploded into action.
Attacking the curses was out of the question. Since the domain expansion had been so short, if he even grazed them, there was a chance they would wake from their trance. Though even if that weren't the case, Gojo wouldn't have attacked them anyway.
He wanted them conscious and lucid for their crushing defeat.
Instead, he went for the transfigured humans. By his count, there were about a thousand of them scattered around. They weren't a threat to him, of course, not even a tiny blip on his radar, but they slaughtered indiscriminately and he didn't want the casualty count to go any higher than it already had.
Necks snapped and hearts imploded as he ripped his way through their ranks, tearing them apart as though they were tissue paper. His Limitless kept him pristine as blood and gore splattered every available surface, staining the concrete floor –
He froze mid-action, spinning around and coming to a halt.
A girl was standing there. A girl who he knew for a fact hadn't been there just a second before. She was a curse. That much was obvious from the staggering amount of cursed energy he could detect contained in her form. She was easily on the level of a special grade curse.
However, he couldn't detect any prominent deformities on her features that every cursed spirit possessed. On the contrary, she looked... human. Cute, even. She was petite, with long flowing platinum-gold hair that cascaded down her shoulders and emerald green eyes that seemed to shimmer underneath the fluorescent lights overhead. She wore a lacy black dress the color of midnight and had on a pair of cross earrings. She wasn't wearing any shoes, and her bare feet were adorned with golden anklets.
Had Gojo come across her on the streets, he would've thought she was just a normal girl.
He was shaken from his thoughts as the girl spoke.
"How could you?" she whispered as she looked around the station, at the corpses strewn haphazardly over the floor.
Gojo blinked. "Pardon?"
"You killed all of these people?" She turned back to him, eyes wide. "You murdered them all in cold blood?"
Gojo saw through her ploy instantly. Obviously, she was attempting to destabilize him by blaming him for all of the deaths. Try to stoke the guilt within him and let it wreak havoc on his mind. He chuckled. Who did these curses think he was? He wasn't some young idealistic first-year. He had long since accepted that he couldn't save everyone, that innocent people would die in the crossfire. All he could do was protect as many as he could.
She narrowed her eyes. "You think this is funny? Is this just a game to you?"
If nothing else, he'd give her points for being committed to the act. Hell, if he didn't know any better, he'd think her outrage was genuine. As it was, though, he merely laughed.
"You can save your righteous grandstanding for later," Gojo drawled. "It's not going to work. Why don't we skip the part where you try to make me feel guilty and get straight to the fighting?"
She gazed at him for a moment. Then her angry expression vanished, replaced by a quiet calmness that confirmed it'd all been an act.
"Very well," she said softly.
Immediately, Gojo knew that something was wrong. He looked down at his arms. It took him a moment to consciously realize what it was, and even then, he refused to believe it. But his Six Eyes didn't lie. His arms were covered in goosebumps, the tiny hairs rigidly standing on end.
He looked back up at the girl, feeling much more intrigued than he had been seconds before.
Who was she, to inspire such a reaction from him?
As if reading his mind, she spoke.
"I am Uriel, the Demon-Like Judge of Fire. And you..." Her eyes hardened. "You are a sinner. Prepare to be judged."
Gojo grinned, his teeth bared in challenge. This was turning out to be more interesting than he'd expected.
Who knew? Perhaps she'd finally be the one to make him break a sweat tonight.
JJK
Todo skidded back ten feet in the hallway, arms crossed before him. His eyes were narrowed in mild confusion as he regarded the cursed spirit lying on the floor in front of him. It had come flying out from nowhere at an incredible speed, and only his highly honed reflexes allowed him to block in time. The amount of cursed energy he could sense radiating off the cursed spirit was immense, and he instantly clocked it in as a special grade cursed spirit.
The cursed spirit stood up, rubbing his shoulders as he looked around. "Ugh, where am I..."
Seeing that he wasn't immediately attacking, Todo took this time to examine the cursed spirit. He looked... young. He had the appearance of a teenage boy no older than fifteen, with messy black hair flopped over crimson red eyes. He was pale, as if he had never gone out into the sun before, and vaguely resembled a vampire. Black bandages were wrapped around his hands, decorated with serrated patterns.
"Who are you?" Todo asked. Though he might not look it, he was a deeply analytical person in nature. He knew the importance of information, especially in a world of binding vows and unique domains.
The cursed spirit glanced at him. "Who... am I? You mean you don't know?"
"Not a clue," said Todo.
"Kukuku," the cursed spirit let out several dark chuckles as he looked downward, his hair hiding his eyes. "To think that someone hasn't heard of my Story yet... This can be only a blessing." Slowly, he raised his head, a grin splitting his face as his red eyes seemed to glow with an unholy light. "Hear me well, mortal, for I shall say this only once." He drew to his full height, which was still a full head shorter than Todo. "I am chaos incarnate!" He cried, sweeping his arms outward in a grand gesture. "The nightbringer! The soul reaver! The calamity of worlds, the one who shall witness the end of time. Who am I, you ask? I am the Abyssal Black Flame Dragon! Tremble in awe!"
Todo was silent for a long moment.
"I... see."
Faced with such a flamboyant introduction, there was only one way for him to respond.
He breathed in. Breathed out. Then his eyes flashed and he bellowed, "I am Aoi Todo! The ace of Jujutsu High, the best friend of Itadori Yuji! I am the seeker of battle, the nemesis of evildoers, the one who strikes fear into the hearts of curses. And, most importantly of all..." His voice lowered to a soft, almost melodic tone. "I am Takada-chan's number one fan," he said reverently. "I am her sword, her shield, and her scabbard. I fight for her name and I will die for her smile."
"Hoh?" An interested glint appeared in the Abyssal Black Flame Dragon's eyes. "Are you perchance challenging me to battle?"
Todo grinned, settling into a stance. "It appears I am."
For a second, both were still.
Then they exploded into movement.
"I'm surprised you can keep up," the Abyssal Black Flame Dragon grinned as they exchanged a series of blows too fast for the average onlooker to perceive. "You're pretty good."
"And you're not half-bad yourself," Todo returned as he narrowly avoided a vicious kick shrouded in black flames. Stepping in, he unleashed a devastating uppercut that forced the Abyssal Black Flame Dragon to backflip back. "Though, is there a reason why you're not using your hands?"
Indeed, the entire time, the Abyssal Black Flame Dragon had only been using his elbows, knees, and feet to attack.
The cursed spirit laughed. "Foolish mortal. If I used my hands, this fight would be over before it began. My hands are cursed, you see. Cursed with an amazing power that can rip open a hole in the Star Stream itself if released unchecked. For the sake of the cosmos, I've sealed it all away with my Black Beat bandages. But if the need arises, I'm willing to unseal the power – but not for long, lest I accidentally destroy the planet in the process."
"Ah," Todo nodded sagely. "I can relate. I have an IQ of 530,000, you see. My intellect is unparalleled, equal to the brainpower of a billion Einsteins. If I allowed my brain to run at full capacity, then I could conquer the universe itself with ease. But no single man should possess such unbelievable power, so I imposed limiters upon my neurons to give any enemy I fight a sporting chance."
"Oh? How interesting," the Abyssal Black Flame Dragon chuckled. "Perhaps I'll deign to take you a little more seriously, then. Tell you what, for this fight, I'll use one arm."
"And I'll remove one of my three limiters," Todo returned magnanimously.
The two continued their lethal dance, falling into a comfortable rhythm. Black flames coated the Abyssal Black Flame Dragon's limbs, and every time Todo blocked an attack he could feel the scorching heat sinking into his flesh, attempting to sear away his cells. Only his cursed energy, wrapped around him protectively, prevented him from getting flambeed.
He took a hook punch to the jaw, continued the spin, and sent back a backfist that landed squarely on the cursed spirit's temple. Timing his cursed energy just right...
Black Flash.
Satisfaction raced through Todo as he entered the flow state that immediately followed a successful usage of the Black Flash technique. The force of the attack sent the Abyssal Black Flame Dragon spiraling through the air, his body nearly parallel to the ground as his light frame was sent flying. He recovered almost immediately, though, and righted himself midair, eyes furious as if he couldn't believe he'd actually been struck. He thrusted out both hands.
"Amaterasu!" he shouted.
Black flames utterly devoid of light burst forward from his palms in a jagged wave, racing toward Todo with blinding speed. Todo, for his part, looked completely relaxed.
At the last second, before the flames hit, Todo clapped his hands.
"Boogie Woogie!" he shouted.
Before the Black Abyssal Flame Dragon's disbelieving gaze, Todo vanished from existence, replaced by a brown briefcase that had been discarded on the ground. It was incinerated instantly, the black flames devouring it down to the molecular level.
"Heh," Todo grinned, and the Black Abyssal Flame Dragon spun around to see Todo standing behind him. "I made you use both hands."
"How did you–" the Black Abyssal Flame Dragon breathed in shock. "You know teleportation?"
"What can I say? I'm a man of many talents," Todo said modestly. "The fabric of space and time itself is nothing but putty in my hands. Elementary, really." Then he narrowed his eyes. "Those flames of yours... they were different from before. Stronger. If they had hit me, they would've utterly decimated me, protective cursed energy or no."
The Black Abyssal Space Dragon nodded. "The heavenly flames that burn anything and everything in its path. The thermonuclear bomb is but a child's firecracker compared to the divine wrath of the goddess Amaterasu."
"Incredible," Todo breathed.
"The same to you."
The two regarded each other for a moment, mutual respect in their gazes.
"Tell me, Abyssal Black Flame Dragon," Todo said, his gaze becoming serious. There was a weight to his words that hadn't been there before, a solemn tone that had the Abyssal Black Flame Dragon straightening, paying full attention to every syllable.
And then the Lord asketh:
"What kind of woman is your type?"
And the Dragon answereth:
"Huh? Women? They don't matter to me."
The sun rising from the west. The apple falling upward. Mass being destroyed.
"I'm sorry?" Todo could hear himself saying, though his voice sounded faraway, as if he was underwater.
The Abyssal Black Flame Dragon shrugged. "Who needs women when you have gundams and video games? I'm not some simp."
Todo looked upward. A lone tear trickled its way down his cheek. His mind the picture of perfect tranquility as all conscious thought left him. In the distance, he could hear the sound of a thread snapping in half.
Perhaps that was his sanity.
"I thought I found another one," he whispered, his voice raw with pain. "But I should've known it was too good to be true. A kindred spirit you are not, merely a cursed one."
"What are you talking about?" the Black Abyssal Flame Dragon frowned.
Todo screamed. A heartbroken, sorrowful sound of shattered hopes and dreams, intermixed with an undying rage that promised retribution and destruction.
"You," he growled, genuine hatred in his voice. He glared at the Black Abyssal Flame Dragon, who suddenly looked somewhat wary. "I will end you."
JJK
The famed streets of Shibuya trembled, then promptly caved in. No, that wasn't quite right. It was more accurate to say that the street melted inward, concrete and rock turning into red-hot liquid that flowed downward into the gap in the earth. A second later, two figures burst from the opening, somehow unaffected by the searing heat, flying high into the air.
"That could've killed someone!" Gojo called out to her as he increased his altitude. Within seconds, he was above the tallest skyscraper, the inky black barrier overhead.
"That's the point!" Uriel shouted back, a good fifty meters below him. Fireball after fireball surged upward, each a meter in diameter. Gojo showcased a breathtaking display of aerial agility as he dodged every incoming projectile. As he rolled underneath one leisurely, he took a moment to examine the cursed spirit.
White wings tinged with a hint of gold had sprouted from her back, making her look like an angel who had descended from heaven. Or, in this case, ascending back to heaven, in a very flammable manner to boot. Her green eyes were burning with fury, literally; her irises were shrouded with an ethereal flame. She was rushing straight at him, blasting away with fireballs indiscriminately as she streaked upward.
Gojo grinned. He rarely got the chance to partake in an aerial fight, as not many cursed spirits or jujutsu sorcerers were capable of using flight in combat. But it seemed that flying was second nature to Uriel, as she maneuvered through the air with a graceful elegance. Every move of hers could've been lifted straight out of a Renaissance masterpiece. She closed in on him rapidly, a fiery greatsword igniting to existence in her left hand. Gojo's grin widened.
Flying straight at him like that to get into melee range? That was a little ambitious, wasn't it?
Cursed Technique Reversal: Red.
A condensed crimson ball of positive energy sparked to life on his fingertip, swirling and diverging from the origin point. Strong gusts of wind began blowing as the sphere howled madly, demanding him to release it.
So he did.
Uriel's eyes widened as she abruptly came to a halt, her wings spreading out to their full length.
"Oh SHIT–"
The night sky was bathed in a dark red light as the technique detonated, repelling all matter in its vicinity. Uriel was blasted away like a leaf in a storm, tumbling over helplessly as the shockwave exploded outward, extinguishing whatever flames she tried to summon. All the windows in the skyscraper behind her shattered as she crashed into it, the plaster and reinforced concrete providing virtually no resistance as she shot straight through.
One building. Two. Three. Four.
It was only when she slammed into the fifth building that she finally came to a stop, the impact cracking the wall behind her, forming a miniature crater. She let out a choked gasp as all the air was forcefully driven from her lungs.
"Don't tell me you're finished already," Gojo said as he materialized in front of her, hands in his pockets as he hovered in the air.
"In your dreams," she spat, her gaze unflinching as she met his eyes.
He watched on curiously as she slowly lifted her arm up to the sky, her eyes narrowed in fierce concentration. Wind began swirling around them as unrestrained power rolled out from her in waves. If he wasn't mistaken, he could swear he smelled the scent of sulfur permeating the air.
Then she brought her hand down.
"Burn, motherfucker."
A colossal pillar of flames blasted down from the heavens above, as tall and wide as a skyscraper and hypersonic in speed. Gojo barely had enough time to glance upward before it slammed into him, enveloping him entirely in a fiery inferno. It was as if the sun itself had risen in the streets of Shibuya, night becoming day as the flames emitted a brilliant blinding golden light. The flames showed mercy to nothing in its path as it dropped, concrete vaporizing and steel liquifying as buildings, automobiles, and the streets alike were utterly decimated.
Uriel smirked in satisfaction as she floated high into the air. The flames had struck Gojo head-on; she'd seen that he hadn't had time to teleport away. The pillar of hellfire was one of her strongest attacks, disintegrating everything it touched. There was no way for him to have survived–
Something strange sounded from the center of the flames. It took Uriel a second to identify it.
Laughter.
A moment later, there was a blue flash of light so bright that it shone even through the hellfire, and then the pillar imploded, collapsing inward as the flames were sucked into something, swirling around like a whirlpool being drained. It took a few seconds for the flames to thin out to the point where visibility was regained.
Uriel's eyes widened in shock.
Gojo Satoru stood there in the air, casually holding out his left hand, palm turned upward. A sphere of raw aquamarine energy hovered above, spinning and rotating as the hellfire was siphoned in.
… what?
Gojo's appearance was absolutely immaculate. Not a single hair was out of place. He looked as though he'd just taken a leisurely stroll through the park, not a divine attack to the face that would've brought even Zeus to his knees. Uriel couldn't even detect a speck of dust on his clothing.
Just who was he?!
"Did you just carpet bomb me with a Biblical reference?" Gojo laughed in delight as the last of the flames were finally extinguished, leaving behind only a steaming crater in the ground fifty meters deep, blackened and scorched beyond repair. "My, you're really taking the whole 'Uriel' roleplaying seriously, huh?"
Uriel bristled. "I'm not roleplaying!"
"Sure you're not," Gojo said indulgently.
"And how did you survive?! You took a direct hit! Even Kim Dokja would've died from that!" She paused. "Not that it would've kept him down for long," she muttered under her breath before staring at him incredulously. "How are you alive?!"
Gojo winked at her. "Trade secret. It'll take a lot more than that to get through my Limitless. Say, who's Kim Dokja?" The name sounded Korean, but Gojo had never heard of him before.
Strangely, Uriel blushed at that. Gojo raised an eyebrow as she looked away, almost shyly.
Finally, she managed to whisper, "He's Yoo Jonghyuk's future husband."
"..."
"..."
"O... kay," Gojo said, deciding that it was probably better for him not to know. Then he turned to examine the scene of destruction.
He whistled.
"Goddamn, that's quite the firepower you got there. What did those innocent buildings ever do to you?" Gojo turned back to Uriel and his lighthearted expression vanished, replaced by a serious look. "That said... I should probably end this fight before all of Shibuya goes up in flames. Sorry, playtime is over."
Uriel tensed up as Gojo raised two fingers, crossing them together.
"Domain Expansion," he said lazily. "Unlimited Void."
JJK
Todo landed on his feet, swayed, then collapsed to the ground.
"Heh," the Abyssal Black Flame Dragon smiled cockily. "You fought well, but you were no match for a higher being like me. Though if I do say so myself, the way I used your Boogie Woogie technique against you was a stroke of genius. All according to keikaku."
"You..." Todo growled, but his voice was weak. He struggled, trying to climb to his feet, but he'd sustained too much damage.
"Still alive?" The Abyssal Black Flame Dragon casually strolled over, sliding his hands into his pockets. "I might spare you if you beg. I may not look it, but yours truly is a merciful god."
"Never," Todo hissed, eyes defiant.
The Abyssal Black Flame Dragon shrugged. "Then die."
Black flames materialized into existence over Todo's head, coalescing into the form of an elegant katana. It hung there for a second, exuding a malevolent aura that seeped into the air, darkness gathering around it like clouds in a storm.
Then it sliced down–
"Don't."
The katana froze, coming to a stop mere inches away from Todo's neck.
"Oi, oi, oi," the Abyssal Black Flame Dragon said quietly, calmly, not taking his eyes off Todo. "Is that who I think it is?"
He whirled to the side, his face twisting into a bloodthirsty smile as he slashed his hand across the air. A wave of dark flames twice as tall as him roared forward, ravenous for flesh–
Only to dissipate as a sword sliced through the inferno.
A figure stepped through the dying flames, his white overcoat rippling in the wind.
The Abyssal Black Flame Dragon's grin widened.
"Secretive Plotter," he said, his voice brimming with glee. "So you're here too?"
Yoo Jonghyuk of the 1863rd regression inclined his head.
"Unfortunately, yes," he said. "It's been a while. How are you?"
The Abyssal Black Flame Dragon blinked. "What's wrong with you?"
Yoo Jonghyuk frowned. "Pardon?"
The Abyssal Black Flame Dragon scratched his head. "I mean... the Secretive Plotter I knew wouldn't waste time indulging in small talk. Or any talk, really." He scrutinized the Secretive Plotter. "Parenthood really mellowed you out, huh? How's the Oldest Dream doing?"
A small, genuine smile flitted across Yoo Jonghyuk's face. "He's doing well. He just scored a hundred on his latest algebra exam–"
"Pssh, lame," the Abyssal Black Flame Dragon scoffed. "Give him to me for a week and I'll teach him the important subjects, like world domination and breakdancing."
"Perhaps some other day."
Then the Abyssal Black Flame Dragon scowled. "Anyway, why did you stop me from killing this whelp?" He nudged Todo's prone form with his foot. "He challenged me and lost. That means his life is mine."
The Secretive Plotter tilted his head. "Do you know where we are?"
"What kind of question is that? We're in Shibuya right now."
The Secretive Plotter shook his head. "I don't mean the city. I'm talking about the dimension."
"What are you—" The Abyssal Black Flame Dragon froze. "Oh. Oh, shit."
The Secretive Plotter nodded. "I'm sure you don't need me to spell out the rest. I'll be taking my leave now." He turned around, white overcoat billowing behind him. "It was nice seeing you again."
With that, he vanished from existence, seemingly melting into the shadows.
The Abyssal Black Flame Dragon stared after him. "Epic," he whispered. "Now that's a proper dramatic exit."
Then he looked down at Todo on the ground. "So..." he said, his tone becoming sheepish, "I think there's been a slight misunderstanding. Sorry about that."
He extended a hand out to Todo to help him up.
Todo stared back at him with pure unadulterated disgust.
"Stay away from me."
The Abyssal Black Flame Dragon twitched.
JJK
The world around them fell away, replaced by a darkness that extended outward to infinity, interspersed with streaks of dark purple. Gojo smiled, back in the familiar bounds of his domain. The fight was over. Already, the sure-hit effect of his Unlimited Void was taking effect, overwhelming Uriel's mind with an unfathomable amount of information per second.
"You put up a better fight than most," Gojo said to her. "But sadly, your loss was inevitable from the start."
"Holy fuck, just how far is the stick crammed up your ass?"
Gojo blinked.
Wait.
His mind tried to process what he was seeing. It was impossible. It was unthinkable.
But his Six Eyes could not lie.
Uriel was standing there, seemingly completely unaffected by the Unlimited Void. Her arms were crossed, an angry scowl on her face, eyes still wreathed in that ethereal flame of hers.
She was decidedly, inconceivably, perfectly fine.
Gojo stared at her with wide eyes, speechless. His Six Eyes examined her entire form, analyzing every minute detail. Was the Unlimited Void somehow malfunctioning and not properly targeting her?
No, he realized with a sinking horror. His Unlimited Void was working flawlessly. Every second her mind was being overwhelmed with a boundless amount of raw data. Cursed spirit or not, the sheer magnitude of the stimulus should've had her out cold. This made no sense. This went against every law of jujutsu sorcery that existed.
The only way to fight against a Domain Expansion was with another Domain Expansion. That was a universal rule. But Uriel clearly wasn't using a Domain Expansion — hell, she wasn't even using a cursed technique.
"How?" He breathed in pure baffled incomprehension.
Uriel tilted her head in a way that he normally would've considered to be cute.
"How what?"
"How are you resisting the effects of my Unlimited Void?" Gojo asked. "Your mind should be shutting down, overloaded by the strain of all the information entering your brain."
"Oh, is that what it is?" Uriel winced, rubbing her head. "Yeah, can you cut that out, please? It's giving me a hell of a headache."
Gojo stared at her, feeling uncharacteristically lost. Even against Toji, he hadn't felt this bewildered.
"My domain is the Unlimited Void, infinity manifest," he said slowly, as if by making her understand, it will take effect. "Centuries' worth of undistilled information flooding your brain in mere seconds, enough to render anyone utterly incapacitated. Right now, you are experiencing the purest form of eternity itself."
Uriel blinked.
Then she giggled.
"Eternity? This?" Uriel's voice was full of mirth. "Please. I am Uriel of Eden, the archangel of salvation, a myth-grade constellation. I am older than time itself. You think you know eternity, mortal?" She snorted. "Don't make me laugh. I have walked the Star Stream for billions of years and will walk it for billions more. What does a handful of centuries matter to me?"
"What," said Gojo blankly.
"This is an impressive attack though, I'll give you that," Uriel said, looking around. The distance stretched out endlessly in all directions, an otherworldly white light intermixing with an impenetrable darkness. She turned back to Gojo. "I don't think even the monkey would be able to withstand this. Unfortunately for you, I happen to be the worst opponent you could face." Her expression grew serious. "Allow me to grant you a glimpse of what eternity truly means."
And then Uriel released her full status as a myth-grade constellation.
An incredible aura exploded out from her as a storm of sparks crackled into existence. She stood in the center, her sheer presence so bright and powerful it resembled a supernova, waves of heat rolling off her as her white-gold wings unfurled outward. An impossibly heavy pressure seemed to weigh down on Gojo's shoulders as a primordial part of his brain came to life, screaming at him.
Gojo gazed upon her.
And he saw. Countless images streamed into his mind, blurring by so quickly he was only able to catch a quick glance before they were gone. Of the grand neverending cosmos, of a beautiful garden that his soul felt a deep longing for, of an endless field of stars brimming with an impossible light.
And he knew. She was telling the truth. Before him was a being that had existed before the concept of time itself. A being older than the stars.
Gojo laughed.
"You're not a cursed spirit, are you?"
"Huh?" Uriel frowned. "No?"
"I thought not."
Gojo snapped his fingers and his domain receded, returning them to the real world. They hovered in the air several hundred meters up, the wide expanse of Shibuya below them. Uriel frowned at his sudden action, and after a moment, she let her status die down as well.
"So," Gojo said, clapping his hands together. "I think something got lost in translation here. What say we start from the beginning?" He grinned. "I'm Gojo Satoru. It's nice to meet ya."
JJK
Through the dark haze of combat madness that clouded his mind shone through something that caused his unbridled fighter's instinct to fizzle out for a second.
So, about my kid... He's definitely got potential.
What was that? A memory?
Take care of Megumi, okay?
Oh, right. He remembered now.
I don't care.
I don't care anymore.
Clarity returned to Fushiguro Toji's eyes as he gazed upon his son, the blackness in his sclera receding.
"Hey, what's your name?"
Megumi frowned but answered anyway. "Fushiguro Megumi."
"Not Zen'in, huh?" Toji smiled, looking pleased. "Good for you."
With those final words, he raised his blade and stabbed it into his head–
A hand grabbed hold of his wrist, stopping him.
Toji instantly whirled around, throwing a devastating hook punch that forced the other individual back. His heart rate sped up. Someone had snuck up on him? Impossible.
He analyzed the man standing there, immediately noting his overall balance, muscle composition, and subconscious body language. The man wore a white overcoat over a black shirt and black pants. He was handsome, extremely so, with wavy black hair and a strong jawline.
He was also a cursed spirit.
"Another special grade?!" Megumi breathed.
Oh? So this one was a special grade too? Toji couldn't tell. Then again, he supposed it was natural for Megumi to be far more attuned to cursed energy than he was. It didn't matter to him either way. Whether it was a third grade or a special grade, they were all prey in his eyes.
"Piss off, will you?" Toji snapped. "I don't have time for this."
"Too busy trying to kill yourself?"
Toji blinked at the cursed spirit's words. "Well, yes, actually. Though now that you mention it..." His eyes flickered momentarily to a head of spiky black hair. Then he nodded once, making up his mind. "Alright, fine. If you fear death this little, then I can afford to make a quick detour before I cross the river once more."
The man chuckled. "I haven't feared death for a long time. He's an... old friend, I guess you could say–"
Steel met steel with a harsh clang.
"You reacted to that?" Toji grinned viciously, their swords interlocked, having crossed the distance between them in a split second. "Not bad."
"Less reacted, and more predicted," the man said, his right eye glowing golden. "It was obvious."
Obvious?
Obvious?
Toji narrowed his eyes. Then he disappeared in a blur of speed.
Thrust. Slice. Parry. Stab. Repeat. He unleashed a flurry of attacks too fast for the naked eye to track, the sheer pressure generated causing a whirlwind to form around them.
The cursed spirit weathered the barrage with ease, blocking or dodging every strike. It was uncanny. Now that Toji no longer needed to worry about his body's structural integrity, he didn't need to hold back to prevent lasting physiological damage, which meant he was moving exponentially faster than he had been while alive. And back then, he'd been fast enough to give even Gojo Satoru trouble. Now, his speed had truly crossed into the divine territory.
But this man was somehow keeping up with him?
Toji disengaged, leaping back ten meters to gain some distance. The cursed spirit made no move to follow.
"Who are you?" Toji asked.
The man inclined his head. "You can call me the Secretive Plotter."
"Secretive Plotter? What are you supposed to be, some type of supernatural criminal mastermind?"
The Secretive Plotter chuckled. "Nothing that melodramatic. I'm just someone in the wrong place at the right time. Speaking of the time, though..." He pulled out a black-and-silver pocket watch from his coat and looked down, checking the time. "Hmm. I'm afraid I don't have much time left for this. I still have some other matters to attend to." He snapped the watch shut and placed it back in his pocket before looking back up at Toji. "Let's finish this."
And then for the first time the entire fight, the Secretive Plotter went onto the offensive.
Nine seconds.
It took Fushiguro Toji nine seconds to realize that he was completely and utterly outclassed.
Ludicrously so.
Speed, strength, agility – the Secretive Plotter surpassed him in all regards. But that wasn't what gave Toji pause. Rather, it was the Secretive Plotter's swordsmanship.
Indeed, Secretive Plotter's swordsmanship transcended ordinary kenjutsu and entered the higher realm of art itself. It was flawless. That was the only way to describe it. Every cut, every stab, every slice was just pure perfection. Just how many life-or-death battles had the Secretive Plotter fought to attain such sublime mastery? It must've taken centuries. Toji's own swordsmanship looked like an amateur waving around a stick in comparison.
Perhaps if Toji had had more time to prepare, he could've beaten this man. A trap here, a dirty trick there. But right here, right now, in a battle of pure combat, he was at such an overwhelming tactical disadvantage, it wasn't even funny.
His sword clattered out of his hand as the Secretive Plotter disarmed him in one deft move, and before he could blink, the tip of the Secretive Plotter's blade was pressing against his throat.
"Well," Toji smiled lazily. "You got me. Now what? You gonna kill me?"
It wasn't like it mattered. He had been going to kill himself anyway. No big deal.
"Why did you fight me?"
Toji was slightly taken aback by the random question. "What type of question is that?" He laughed. "I fought you for fun. Wanted to get at least one good fight in before I returned to the afterlife."
The Secretive Plotter regarded him with an unreadable expression, his dark eyes giving away nothing.
Then his gaze softened.
"There's no shame in admitting the real reason, you know," he said, almost gently. He inclined his head at Megumi. "You were protecting him, weren't you?"
Toji blinked. Then he scoffed. "You're out of your mind. You really think I care about some random no-name jujutsu sorcerer?"
"I do," the Secretive Plotter said, and it was the sheer quiet conviction in his voice that gave Toji pause. "Not everyone gets a second chance to talk to a loved one. Don't waste it. He's your son after all, isn't he?"
Toji's eyes widened in shock. He knew. How did he...
For a second, he considered denying everything. Maybe snap his own neck while he was at it. But at the same time...
Oh, what the hell.
Toji chuckled. "Sure, why not?"
So maybe he was getting sentimental. Sue him. He was already dead anyway. He was allowed to let his heart bleed a little.
Toji turned to Megumi, who was staring at him with wide eyes. Toji resisted the urge to snicker at his expression. He looked like a startled racoon.
"Not bad, kid," Toji grinned. "Keep on doing as you are now, and I guarantee the Jujutsu world will never forget the name Fushiguro. Oh, and be kind, too. Trust me, you don't want to become like me."
"What?" Megumi managed to choke out. "Wait, you're–"
"One last thing. I..." Toji hesitated, looking as if he was struggling to get the words out. He gave up. "Oh, you know."
And he smiled. A genuine, carefree smile.
"Show them hell, kid."
"But how–"
He ignored Megumi, turning back to the Secretive Plotter. "Care to do the honors?"
The Secretive Plotter nodded. "Worry not. I won't kill him."
Toji snorted. "Just get on with it already."
And his world went dark.
JJK
"Let me get this straight. So you didn't actually kill all those humans in the train station, but rather you were trying to save them."
"Yep."
"And the ones you did kill were already 'transfigured' into mindless monsters, and you were just putting them out of their misery."
"Yep."
"And the reason you attacked me is because you thought I was a cursed spirit."
"Yep."
"Huh," Uriel paused, looking down at her hands. "Interesting," she muttered to herself. "I don't feel any different from usual. A phenomenon similar to the Outer Gods transformation? At least I don't have tentacles, I guess."
Gojo blinked. He… He didn't want to ask.
Sometime during their attempt to figure out what was going on, the two of them had returned to the ground. Gojo was casually leaning against a tree, hands clasped behind his head, while Uriel stood across from him. Her wings had disappeared, making her once more look like an ordinary girl.
"Sorry for attacking you," Uriel said sheepishly. "I guess I jumped to a conclusion too quickly. Though in my defense, it did look very incriminating…"
Gojo waved off her apology. "Ehh, no hard feelings. It's an understandable mistake."
Then Uriel pursed her lips. "Hold on, weren't you in the middle of fighting other cursed spirits? Shouldn't you be going back to fight them?"
"Nah, they'll be long gone by now," Gojo said. "Even before you arrived, I already killed one of them and would've easily killed the rest. They had a strategy, but naturally, it didn't work against me." He flashed her a cocky grin. "There's no way they hadn't retreated already."
That was the precise moment a small cube clattered to the ground next to them.
They looked down at it, Uriel raising an eyebrow in mild curiosity. "What-?"
Without warning, the cube expanded outward in a mass of bloodstained flesh, revealing a singular massive eye held open by metal stitches. It leered at Gojo, the fabled Six Eyes meeting the gaze of a monk suspended in the limbo between life and death. The living barrier thrummed in anticipation as the invisible timer began counting down.
Gojo drew in a sharp breath, recognizing it immediately. "Move!" he hissed, already on his feet. While he was the strongest, even he didn't want to tangle with such an esoteric sealing technique–
"Yo! Gojo!"
Gojo froze.
He knew that voice.
"Huh?"
He turned on instinct, eyes wide, and came face-to-face with Geto Suguru.
"It's been a while," Geto grinned.
Gojo stared uncomprehendingly, unwilling to believe his eyes.
How is he here? Is he a fake? Is this a transformation technique? An illusion?
But before the omniscient gaze of his Six Eyes, Gojo Satoru knew the truth.
The man standing before him right now was without a doubt Geto Suguru.
My best friend.
Three years of memories. Three years of laughing with him, arguing with him, bantering with him, training with him, fighting with him.
I killed you.
Though throughout heaven and earth Gojo Satoru alone was the honored one...
There had been one person in the world he considered worthy enough to stand by his side.
I'm sorry.
One second passed in the real world. Three years passed in Gojo's mind.
The conditions for the Prison Realm were met.
With a flash of purple light and an ominous hum, the barrier activated, stringy flesh lashing out and binding Gojo in place.
"And there you have it!" Geto announced, clapping his hands together. "One 'world's strongest sorcerer', gift-wrapped in the final remains of the great monk Genshin." He smiled at Gojo, looking as if he was drowning in smugness. "Shouldn't you know better than to let your mind wander in the middle of an active battlefield? Seems like someone needs some remedial schooling."
Gojo took a moment to analyze the seal. He was completely cut off from his cursed energy.
Then he whipped his head over to stare accusingly at Uriel. "You lied to me!"
"What? No!" Uriel said frantically, eyes wide. "I have no idea who this guy is."
"Well done, my dear," Geto said warmly, clasping her hands, crossing the distance between them in the blink of an eye. Uriel tensed up. "Your appearance tonight was unexpected but fortuitous. Though you may not have been aware of it, just know that I greatly appreciate you distracting Satoru. I don't know how you did it, but excellent work on getting him to let down his guard. May I please enquire about your name?"
"I'm Uriel... Wait, who are you? What's going on here?"
Geto smiled. "Ah, but where are my manners? Good evening, I'm Geto Suguru. It's a pleasure to meet you."
"You're not Geto."
Geto glanced over at Gojo. "What was that, old friend?"
"Do not call me old friend," Gojo growled, a terrifying intensity in his eyes. "Who are you?"
"I'm Geto Suguru, of course." Damnit. Even Geto's tone was the exact same, the smug, melodic voice that haunted Gojo's dreams at night. "Have you forgotten me already? You're breaking my heart."
Gojo ignored him, his neurons firing at a lightning rate. "Your body... and even your cursed energy... My Six Eyes tell me that you're Geto Suguru." His eyes flashed, a fierce snarl tearing across his face as a wave of overwhelming rage surged through him. "But my soul knows otherwise! Hurry up and answer! Who the hell are you?!"
"Yeesh!" Geto's face distorted into a large deranged smile, eyes rolling upwards as he tugged at the stitch in his forehead and pulled off the top of his head. "How did you know?"
Gojo didn't respond. With words, at least. A low hiss of pure hatred escaped him instead as he took in his best friend's desecrated corpse.
"What the hell is even that?!" Uriel asked, staring at Geto's head with a mixture of horror and revulsion. "What's wrong with your head?!"
"Well that's rude. What if I'm self-conscious about it?" Geto smiled, tugging the top of his head back on, his stitches automatically reapplying themselves. "It's a rather ingenious cursed technique that allows me to hop between bodies by switching brains. It has the added bonus of allowing me to use this body's innate techniques."
"Uriel," Gojo cut in before Uriel could respond. She turned to him, and he looked her dead in the eye, gaze fully serious. "If you truly weren't lying to me earlier, then free me."
"Don't free him," Geto objected. "You're a cursed spirit, aren't you? We're on the same side here."
"I'm not a cursed spirit."
Geto froze. "Yes, you are?"
"No I'm not."
"You sure seem like you're a cursed spirit."
"Yeah, but I'm not."
"You sure?"
"Positive."
"Ah," Geto paused. "Shit."
Hellfire burst to life, vaporizing the flesh of the Prison Realm like it was paper. The living barrier let out an unearthly screech as the flames consumed it, ashes scattering to the air.
Simultaneously, Geto stomped his foot on the ground and a fissure opened up, swallowing him whole and closing behind him.
A split second later, Gojo's fist slammed into where Geto had just stood, cracking the floor and sending dust flying up.
"Damnit," Gojo cursed. "He got away."
Before he could think of a way to track Geto down, however, a sudden presence slammed into them. The source was faraway, but it was potent enough that it had Gojo tensing up, all his senses on high alert.
That was Sukuna's presence. What happened? Was Itadori okay?
Then, another presence washed over them, just as potent as Sukuna's. Gojo didn't recognize it. While Sukuna's presence reeked of blood, death, and destruction, this particular presence felt more mischievous, friendly, but with the undercurrent of an unbreakable conviction and will.
"Ah," Uriel smiled, and for the first time since Gojo met her, she seemed to relax a little. "So the monkey's here too."
Gojo blinked. "The monkey?"
JJK
"You're going to kill everyone in Shibuya?" Sun Wukong raised an eyebrow, absently stepping over the corpse of Jogo, who he'd taken out without much difficulty.
Sukuna observed him, utterly unconcerned. "Yeah. What of it?"
"Eh, nothing much," Sun Wukong shrugged. "Just that I'm going to have to stop you."
"Is that so?"
There was a moment of silence.
The world exploded in a flurry of movement as the Great Sage, Heaven's Equal and the King of Curses met in battle.
Sun Wukong's staff, the Ruyi Jingu Bang, was nothing more than a red-and-golden blur as he wielded it with devastating skill, lengthening and shifting as they exchanged blows. The landscape around them was altered as wind blasted from them, the sheer force from their attacks causing the ground beneath them and the buildings around them to crack.
They soared through the air, crossing dozens of meters in the blink of an eye, dealing out hundreds of attacks in seconds.
Sukuna's grin widened as he unleashed multiple dismantle attacks that carved up the ground, leaving gaping fissures a meter wide and ten meters deep.
One of them struck Sun Wukong in the chest, who let out a gasp of pain as a massive fatal cut opened up, blood spurting out in great gouts – only for him to disappear a moment later, melting away into nothingness.
"Illusions?" Sukuna raised an eyebrow. "Solid illusions at that. Impressive."
The real Sun Wukong dropped like an anvil from the heavens behind him, slamming his legendary staff down in a crushing blow. There was a deafening sound as Sukuna met it head-on with a ferocious smile, blocking it with his bare hands.
"Is this the best you can do?" Sukuna asked tauntingly.
Sun Wukong laughed as he backflipped away, landing lightly on a light pole nearby. "Oh, you think I'm serious right now? This is just a warmup."
He vanished in a swirl of clouds, moving so fast that the naked eye couldn't possibly hope to keep up.
Sukuna was barely able to dodge his initial strike, Sun Wukong's staff whistling through the air, leaving behind trace afterimages. The King of Curses had no time to recover as Sun Wukong instantly pressed the advantage, unleashing a combination attack that gave him no time to even breathe as he was forced to fend off blows from all sides.
"Okay, I take it back," Sukuna grinned. "You're not bad."
He ducked underneath a swing and leaped high into the air, ten, twenty, thirty meters up. It would be easier to fight an aerial battle because at least without the ground to provide stability for footwork, Sun Wukong's speed would be drastically reduced–
Or apparently not, as the Ruyi Jingu Bang extended, suddenly becoming as large as a small building as it swung through the air. Sukuna was forced to push off the building behind him to return to the ground before the staff slammed into it. The building crumpled under the force of the staff, steel snapping and concrete shattering as it was completely demolished.
Sukuna looked at it with a raised eyebrow. "Hmm... I wonder." He turned back to Sun Wukong. "You're strong." A wild bloodthirsty smile spread across his face. "Perhaps strong enough to survive this. Domain Expansion."
A field of skulls bloomed to life as a shrine materialized into existence, the air suddenly becoming denser, a terrifying pressure weighing down over them.
"So, what are you going to do now?" Sukuna tilted his head, gazing imperiously down at Sun Wukong from his throne of skulls. "You are now within the bounds of my domain. In here, I hold the absolute advantage."
"Ha!" Sun Wukong laughed. "You think that matters?" He grinned, leveling his golden staff at Sukuna. "Heed my words. Whether it's the earth, the heavens, the seas, the underworld, or your own paltry domain – I don't care. I'll fight you anywhere and I'll win everywhere. So come, King of Curses! Do your worst."
Sukuna grinned back in anticipation. "Oh? You sure talk big. Let's see if you can back it up!"
And he activated the Malevolent Shrine's sure-hit effect.
Sun Wukong's eyes widened, his senses screaming out at him.
Then he roared.
A barrage of cleaves slammed into him, a howling maelstrom of cursed energy seeking to rip all matter asunder. But against the Prisoner of the Golden Headband, it had no effect. A golden light emanated from the Sun Wukong's form as he unleashed his full status as a myth-grade constellation, his stories wrapping around himself to form an impregnable barrier. Stories of a constellation who had once faced down the entire might of heaven itself with not a shred of fear – and come out on top. The cleaves slashed relentlessly at his skin, attempting to penetrate the protective aura around him, to no avail. His defensive stance was too strong, as solid and immovable as the stone he was borne from.
"You fool!" Sun Wukong bellowed. "I am Sun Wukong! The Great Sage, Heaven's Equal! I survived getting crushed by the Palm of Buddha itself without a single scratch. You think this is enough to take me down?!"
Sukuna laughed in delight. "You're resistant to my cleave? Oh, that's wonderful. And what's this about the monkey king? You don't think you're actually him, are you? Because that's more than a little delusional."
"Delusional?" Sun Wukong narrowed his eyes. "You doubt my claims about my identity. I won't fault you for that – I have had many impersonators back in the day. Allow me to prove it to you, then."
Sukuna held up a hand. "No need. You can prove it to me by beating me."
"What a coincidence. That's exactly what I was planning to do."
"Oh?" Sukuna raised an eyebrow. "By yourself?"
Sun Wukong smirked. "Not exactly."
There was a flash of golden light, and then the empty streets of Shibuya were suddenly full of thousands of Sun Wukongs. As one, they turned to Sukuna. As one, they raised their staffs. As one, they charged.
Sukuna blinked once in surprise. Then he laughed and rushed forward as well, meeting the frontline of clones in a clash that shook the pavement and caused glass off in the distance to shatter.
"Magnificent!" Sukuna laughed as he tore his way through the sea of clones, taking out dozens of clones in a single blow. The air around him was so thick with cursed energy it was nearly tangible, a crimson red aura surrounding him as he unleashed wave after wave of cleaves. He was an unstoppable whirlwind of destruction, the ground underneath him getting pulverized as the pressure from his attacks caused a vortex of wind to form around him, shockwaves after shockwaves exploding outward.
Four minutes and sixteen seconds later, he finally came to a stop, the entire army of clones having been wiped out. He breathed heavily, blood trickling from multiple wounds that were already healing from his reverse cursed techniques.
Clap.
Clap.
Clap.
The real Sun Wukong stepped forward, clapping his hands as he regarded the King of Curses with a gaze that held much more respect than five minutes prior.
"You were actually able to withstand that," he said. "Color me surprised."
Sukuna grinned. "And there's plenty more where that came from."
"Glad to hear it," Sun Wukong stretched his arms before lowering into a stance. "Ready for round two, then?"
"Do you even have to ask-?" Sukuna paused, wincing. He pressed a hand to his head, as if trying to stave off a crippling migraine. "Ah," he said, his voice dripping with annoyance. "Never mind. I'm afraid I'll have to cut this short."
Sun Wukong blinked. "Running away?"
Sukuna's eyes flashed. "Nothing of the sort," he growled. "This isn't my body. The true owner of this body is starting to wake."
"Ah," Sun Wukong nodded in understanding. "A pity. I enjoyed fighting you."
"Likewise," Sukuna smirked. "I'll just have to kill you the next time we meet."
"Heh," Sun Wukong flashed him a cocky grin. "You can try."
Then Sukuna blinked, and the black marks on his face faded.
"Huh?" Itadori said. "What just happened?"
JJK
Two lines formed in the middle of Shibuya. On one side stood Uriel, Sun Wukong, and the Abyssal Black Flame Dragon. On the other side stood Gojo, Itadori, Todo, and several other assorted jujutsu sorcerers. The air was thick with power and tension, interspersed with the sounds of combat going on in the background as the other jujutsu sorcerers cleaned up the remaining cursed spirits and transfigured humans.
"So..." Uriel said, breaking the silence. "It's nice to meet you guys?"
"Who are you?" Nanami asked, eyes narrowed. "Gojo, why aren't we killing these cursed spirits?"
"See, that's the fun part," Gojo grinned. "They're not cursed spirits. Conventional ones, at any rate."
"What does that mean?"
"It means," a new voice spoke, "that we are not residents of your worlds."
The Secretive Plotter strode forward, seemingly coming from nowhere.
Uriel brightened. "Secretive Plotter! So you're here too?"
"Uriel," the Secretive Plotter inclined his head. "It's good to see you again. You too, Sun Wukong."
"Tch."
The Secretive Plotter smiled. "As pleasant as always. Where's the friendliness you had shown the King of Curses?"
Sun Wukong's eyes narrowed. "You were watching?"
"I am the Secretive Plotter. It's what I do," the Secretive Plotter said. "At any rate, as you three may be able to tell, we're currently in the wrong dimension. I don't know why or how we got there, though I have a feeling it's all Kim Dokja's fault" – the other three nodded in agreement – "but it's about time we left."
"How?" Uriel asked.
"This entire time, I've been tinkering with a locator device," the Secretive Plotter said. "I was finally able to get a signal out a few minutes ago. They should be here any time now..."
A rift in time and space formed, a pitch black portal opening up in reality.
The Secretive Plotter allowed himself a smile of satisfaction. "Right on schedule."
"Bye Gojo!" Uriel gave him a quick hug. Gojo looked surprised for a second before he returned it. She pulled back and grinned. "I hope you manage to track down the fucker who's possessing your friend's body. Make sure to cram your hand into his chest and rip out his beating heart for me, 'kay?"
Gojo grinned back. "Trust me, I will."
Uriel gave him one last smile before stepping through the portal, ignoring how the rest of the sorcerers stared at the two of them with heavily disturbed looks.
Sun Wukong looked back at Itadori as he stepped through the portal. "I'll be back to continue where we had left off."
"And I'll be waiting," said a mouth that opened up on Itadori's cheek.
"What?" Itadori looked hopelessly confused, but the Great Sage was already gone.
"It was an honor fighting you," the Abyssal Black Flame Dragon said to Todo. "Goodbye, my best friend."
"Do not call me that," Todo snarled. This entire time, he had been glaring at the Abyssal Black Flame Dragon.
And then it was only the Secretive Plotter left. He gave one last nod to the jujutsu sorcerers before stepping through the portal, which closed behind him.
There was a long moment of silence.
"Well then," Gojo said, turning to face them. Itadori, Nanami, Megumi, Nobara, and the others looked back at him. "It's been a rather eventful night, but we managed to pull through. The curses had attempted to seal me with the Prison Realm, and truth be told, they probably would have succeeded if it weren't for our new friends' timely intervention. So, with all that said, there's only one last pressing question we need to address."
He gazed out at Shibuya.
Shibuya gazed back at him, burning, collapsing, breaking, obliterated in many parts.
"Who's going to pay for all of this?"