Chapter Text
His foe was power beyond power, bringing even the Divine General Mahoraga and the Monstrous Chimera Agito onto their knees, but the mighty King of Curses raised Kamutoke to the Heavens and cleaved the world asunder with its might. So powerful was this slash that the Buddha turned away his gaze, in fear of what he saw. So powerful was the slash that the Nine Hells rejoiced at the return of their king.
And when the last of the Three Great Clans was broken, the King decreed as such:
“I, Ryoumen Sukuna, am the strongest in the world.”
And so the Golden Age of the Cursed Spirits began in earnest.
Once upon a time, Cinderella of House Tremaine was afraid.
Her stomach churns with the unsteady ups and downs of her carriage, still faintly smelling of pumpkin rind. The calloused hand of a servant twitches within fine silk gloves, her father’s golden ring sparkling beneath a stream of moonlight. The maid’s ratty blonde hair was done into a prim and perfect bun, sparkling like liquid gold. Her rosy skin had been cleaned of blackened ash, shining as brightly as the moon above.
For tonight and only tonight, Cinderella was a princess.
The wheels of the carriage bump as it rolls over the gravel path. Cinderella inhales the scent of the fresh mountain air, her throat sighing in relief at no longer having to bear with soot and smog of her basement home. The rolling clouds in the distance crackle with thunder. So does her heart.
To attend a royal ball was all the poor girl had ever dreamt of, and yet, she could not even enjoy it.
Cinderella swallows the foul bile in her throat, the fabric of her dress too tight around the neck. Her hands tremble, a blood running cold at the realization looming over her like a sword on a rope. Her stepfamily would be at the ball. Her stepmother would be at the ball.
“Calm down.” Her patron says. “You’re shaking the carriage.”
“O-oh, my apologies.”
Unlike her, the man she came to know as Suguru Geto was as mercurial and calm as a tranquil lake. His strange local robe known as a gojō kāṣāya , ruffles from a stray gust of wind. Cinderella pauses to recompose herself, before stammering out in what she hopes is correct Japanese. It was far from the easiest language to learn, especially when all of the best books had been taken by her cruel sisters.
“Again, I would like to sincerely thank you.”
“For?”
“For - this.” The maid weakly gestures towards the air around her. “Taking me to the ball.”
“Don’t thank me. As sorcerers, it is our duty to help one another.”
Sorcerer. Cinderella recalls what her patron had said when they first met: the poor girl had been given quite the shock when the strange man appeared from the woods. Apparently, she had a great deal of ‘cursed energy’: and the entire reason that Geto was even saving her from her horrible life was so that she could learn to use it. In essence, she was a tool - and the only thing that had changed was the hands wielding her.
Would Geto treat her as her stepmother did?
Her lower lip trembles. Cinderella takes a deep breath, clenching at the fabric of the soft shimmering cloud that was her ballgown. She was in too deep to back out now, and it wasn’t like she had a choice. The senior sorcerer could summon these monsters out of thin air, and the only reason they hadn’t eaten her yet was because Geto saw value in her.
“Are you still afraid of her?”
“Huh?”
“They’re worthless. Barely more than monkeys.” A quiet snarl escapes the gaps between clenched teeth. “Look at the way they treat you, how they bully you for being different."
"How dare those mongrels beat a sorcerer.”
At that moment, Cinderella regrets a little bit about pouring out her woes to the first man she meets.
She shifts to better hide the bruises on her skin. Then again, against a man as supernaturally perceptive as Geto, there was no hiding what happened to her at home.
“You are stronger than them, and you resign yourself to being their slave ?”
“They’re my family.”
“No. We are your family. "
His tone changes, clamping down on her hopes that he would be more liberal than her step-mother was. "You would do best to forget about them.”
She would be justified in agreeing. Her step mother was a cursed spirit in human form. Her step sisters were not much better, sitting idly by the sidelines and allowing Lady Tremaine to do with Cinderella as she pleased. Her gloved hands relax, the girl fighting back a surge of emotions.
For while Cinderella may have been weak, but she would rather be weak than cruel.
“Of course.” She nods, politely smiling in return. “Thank you Geto Sama.”
“Hm.”
The tension hangs in the air like a morning fog. She bides her time as they drive ascend, their vegetable carriage straining to ascend the steep slope. Cinderella looks out at the clear skies, a blanket of darkness inset with thousands of small jewels. The rolling green farmlands of Japan spread out beneath her.
She hears Geto cough quietly into his hand, the man’s placid eyes similarly appreciating the scenery. The air lightens enough to where she feels confident enough to stop gripping her dress so tightly
“Where are we going to go after this?”
“Far away.” He drawls. “If it makes you feel any more at ease, I’ve told my daughters to have something fun prepared for your arrival to make you feel more at home.”
“Daughters?”
“Twins. Adopted.”
Well that explains a few things. Cinderella sighs in a brief hint of relief, seeing the slightest hints of paternal pride and love ripple through the placid lake. She hopes, and hopes with all her heart, that this was her chance to find a real family for herself. Her patron’s face darkens as they approach a bend in the road, the field giving way to small towns and stone walls.
“Do not leave my side at the ball.”
There is no threat in his voice, but Cinderella trembles regardless.
“Why? Are the cursed spirits hostile?”
“Only if I am not with you.”
Cinderella hadn’t even known they existed until today, but these spirits were the real rulers of Japan. Keeping them happy was the only way humans could survive, and even then Cinderella had heard many tales of cursed spirits destroying entire towns on a whim for the sake of it. Sorcerers were supposed to be the ones to help negotiate peace between them, though Geto certainly wasn’t one of those sorcerers.
Again, she wonders what she had gotten herself into.
“Geto Sama, if I may ask, why are you going to the ball? Is it to perhaps negotiate with the cursed spirits?”
“... Not entirely.”
A pause. His expression flicks beneath the ice, to a distant and hurt longing. Cinderella had never seen romantic love, or any kind of love before for that matter, but she knew this is what it looked like when it was broken. Geto, once invincible and all-knowing, was reduced to a simple world-weary man in the blink of an eye.
“I have someone I want - need to meet.”
His tone indicates no further questions on the matter, and Cinderella is not foolish enough to push her luck.
“Oh, we’re here.”
What she had mistaken for the horizon was in fact a pitch black wall, two wooden gates trudging open to reveal a courtyard the size of her whole village. The carriage trudges along between the tightly packed roads, allowing a close up shot of the myriad of lantern-lit shops. Cinderella gawks at the sloped roofs and the wooden walls of the courtyard, gasping at every little thing she could. Lanterns in a myriad of colors hung in the air above, some held up by little creatures she could only describe as-
“Cursed spirits…”
There was one made of flowers, another had a head bubbling with the glow of a volcano. A large group of fish and eels and aquatic creatures Cinderella could barely recognize pass beneath the bridge they were passing through, a man with the head of a squid commanding the swarm with a single wave of his arm. Overhead a pale dragon roars and shoots into the heavens, dancing in the moonlit clouds among a flock of jet-black birds.
“Amazing…”
“Really?” The more mature sorcerer huffs amusedly. “You’ll get used to them after a while. Vile things.”
The carriage turns, revealing a castle Cinderella had only seen in her dreams.
Or, more accurately, her nightmares.
Unlike the ivory spires and sprawling courts of the castles of her home, the Fukuma Mizushi is purely vertical: four layers stacked unto one another. Jagged guard towers jutt seamlessly from the obsidian walls, merging into the inky black at their bottoms but piercing the heavens with their red-crowned tops. Her discomfort grows as their little pumpkin carriage cruises along the hill, noticing skulls and bones and wrought iron spikes scattered across the wall.
“Again, stay close to me. Cursed spirits do not take kindly to sorcerers, especially a novice like you.”
Geto is simply stating a fact, but Cinderella can’t help but be a bit slighted. She crosses her arms and nods meekly regardless, smoothing out the creases in her dress.
“But if the King of Spirits will be there, shouldn’t he keep the others in order?”
“The King only cares about himself. I doubt he would raise an eyebrow if you were to get hurt.”
Her stepmother is suddenly far less intimidating.
The carriage grinds to a stop. Cinderella turns snow white as the door swings open, the dog-headed spirit bowing and gesturing for them to descend. Her patron shows her no sympathy as he takes his leave, and the maid reluctantly follows.
The main castle is even more imposing up close, a towering monolith of layers upon layers of those demonic sloping roofs. How many maids did it take to clean this place? The vast windows are lit with orange flame, smoke billowing from distant bonfires amidst the roars of cacaphonous revelry. The castle gate is strewn wide open, allowing her to catch glimpses of the crimson wooden pillars and brilliant chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings.
Cinderella pauses too long, and she notices the distant top-knot of her patron ascending up the stairs without her. The maid yelps, realizing how stupid it was to go to a royal ball with a strange sorcerer man.
“H-hey! Please, wait for me!”
Despite having a ball gown, Cinderella feels thoroughly out of place - seeing as spirits and men alike wore outfits even far more extravagant than hers: no doubt thanks to their jujutsu magic. She trails Geto Sama as closely as she can without being too obvious, keeping her fear at bay by counting the steps on the staircase.
This was such a horrible idea!