Chapter 1: Everything Started With The Discovery Of A Boy
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Uraume prided themselves on their unquestioning loyalty to their master. The so-called ‘King of Curses’ dubbed by sorcerers and perpetuated by the very subject of their taunts who found the title amusing had earned Uraume’s respect and devotion. So different from the masses, in perpetual chase of something new and exciting to feed his voracious appetite, Uraume saw more wonders with every mountain crossed and lake ferried than anyone else simply by remaining at their master’s side. It helped that they shared a rather unique taste. All it took was one profane trait shared between them to forge their simple, yet effective bond. And while Uraume would admit that their ability to take the same unbroken stance as their master was prone to waver in niche and rare cases, never have they fallen under such immense doubt until the last few days chiseled away at their frozen core.
Everything started with the discovery of a boy.
It was an accident, one Uraume still could not tell was through fortune or fate on their part, but nonetheless, they weren’t on a mission to uncover his whereabouts—He merely appeared in their path.
Uraume had been sent to travel alone. Their mission was a simple one: Deliver a missive to the neighboring lord of their master’s recent conquest that stated, “Bow upon my arrival or perish like their brethren before them.” They traveled on foot, and thus, the message would only take two days and a quarter to arrive. This granted those pitiful clansmen four days to make peace with their families should the men fail to produce a proper offering or rebellion occur upon Ryomen Sukuna’s arrival. By all calculations, the warning provided would be a generous one, more than what many before them were given, but this missive would ultimately remain curled up among a collection of loose records and pilfered literature. The lord would sleep soundly at night, unaware of how close to danger he and his clan had been if not for the unexpected encounter garnering their master’s unrivaled attention.
On the side of a neglected first road, Uraume saw him. More accurately, they noticed his presence from the eerily familiar cursed energy choking the air, leaving them to turn about and wonder if their master’s patience had grown thin and the game of warnings had ended before it could begin. What Uraume soon discovered was that they were half right. The game had ended, all thanks to the oddly dressed young man with the soft pink hair of a fruit-bearing tree in bloom caught in a slumber so deep that one would be forgiven for assuming he was dead.
Uraume had only met one other with hair sporting that unnatural shade.
They would not dare check for a pulse. There was no need—The boy’s lungs filled with air and released it as any other. Uraume would instead, knowing they were not too far from their master, turn around and make haste to bring Sukuna back to this very spot and assess for himself if their ludicrous assumption was right.
This was, ultimately, the right decision to make. Uraume was even praised for it. But none of that would occur until after their master approached the sleeping boy and attempted to lift him by the strange bundle of red fabric layered around his neck. Neither had seen anything like it before, and the vibrancy of the material was something to behold. A proper assessment would be required to understand its origin alongside the wearer, who was startled awake by their master’s actions, and all hell broke loose sooner after.
“SUKUNA!?”
A visceral reaction followed. Immediate fury had taken over whatever confusion the boy’s face had attempted to portray. He was well aware of whom the being standing over him was, yet he was foolish enough to strike at Sukuna without a second thought. The rest of his words were nothing but gibberish. Making use of them was pointless, but the confidence the boy spoke with left Uraume wondering if there was something else to them.
Uraume had thought it best to avoid the ensuing scuffle. It was shocking to observe another with enough strength to meet their master blow for blow. Both could easily toss the other, despite their differences in size and stature. Both reacted automatically when it came to reinforcing their bodies with cursed energy should a hit land or a technique be attempted, though it was only their master who struck the irreverent boy with a dismantle that could not penetrate past the skin.
Strange. Curious. Certainly not frightening, but the fact continued to leave Uraume uneasy even as they dashed forward when the perfect moment was found to send a wave of frost hurdling over the boy to send him crashing to the ground. A steep drop in temperature would be enough to send his body into shock, and if Uraume had read his earlier movements correctly, then the decline in speed and precision indicated that he was going to become sluggish and vulnerable eventually. If Sukuna had wished him dead, their master would have cleaved the boy’s head off the moment he attacked.
“I have subdued the… sorcerer.” Uraume kneeled before their master, unsure by what name or title Sukuna wished to bestow upon the boy. “He was already showing signs of exhaustion, and it appears there is nothing else close by that would belong to him.”
“This brat was traveling with nothing but the clothes on his back?” Their master reached for the boy again, lifting him by his back and allowing his limbs to dangle beneath him. For the first time, Uraume found hesitation in their master’s actions. A second hand from the lower pair had paused when reaching out to make contact with the boy’s inhuman hands. Monstrous claws that Uraume had overlooked before, as they were previously hidden by the long grass and loose-fitting clothes, both working to obscure their initial view.
“As far as I can tell.”
If Sukuna was deeply troubled by this encounter, Uraume could only guess by the lack of expression on their master’s face. A smile had cracked during his fight with the boy, but after Uraume’s intervention, he had returned to the dull, glazed-over frown that often meant contemplation.
“From which direction did he come? And where was he heading toward?”
“I…” Uraume surveyed what remained of the road. They took into account the night’s previous rain and the conditions that allowed most older tracks to disappear while remaining damp enough on this cloudy day for new to form. The boy’s footwear was just as foreign as his clothes, which should have made it evident to deduce which tracks were his. Yet, after several passes of the area, Uraume could find nothing. “I do not know. It is as if he appeared from nothing.”
“Impossible.” A scowl formed on Sukuna’s face. “The resemblance is…”
“Uncanny?” Uraume offered a conclusion to their master’s thought.
“Hm.”
Sukuna lifted the boy’s chin, tilting him gently each way to assess the marks on his face. Every cut and bruise their master had given him was no longer present. All he could find were the same two facial wounds Uraume had found the boy with. Wounds that should have healed, unless they had been carved beyond his flesh. How was responsible? What sort of battle had he waged?
Beyond the overt marks were more subtle ones. Bags under the boy’s eyes and dry lips fell in line with his previous exhaustion. Uraume was convinced of dehydration being the culprit. What else did the boy think would happen by traveling so light?
Curiosity continued to grow, as did an unexpected acceptance within their master’s heart.
“After so much death and destruction, I never thought I would bring life into this world.”
“You believe him to be yours?” It was not a mere question of relation, but the possibility of this boy being their master’s direct progeny. Uraume was doubtful in comparison. Rarely had they observed their master indulge in carnal desires without satiating a different hunger afterward. When had there been an opportunity for his prey to escape? The answer was never. Yet, Uraume would concede that they did not know Sukuna all his life. Given their current estimations of the boy’s age, it would mean he was spawned well before Uraume had pledged themselves to their master’s side. Still…
“His cursed energy and strength alone… The hatred he carried felt far too personal. If not for dishonoring his mother, then what? Not that I could possibly remember who she could be…” Sukuna gripped his chin, sifting through memories of a time when youthful impulse and reckless abandon earned his reputation as a bane on the land from one shore to another. Ultimately, nothing came of his reflection. Their master’s disappointment made it obvious. His next move, not so much, as he took the boy and hoisted him over his shoulder to be carried along as if he were nothing more than another prize to be claimed.
“The brat will fill in the answers upon arriving home.”
“You are taking him back to the estate? The lord—”
“No longer interests me. I found something far more captivating to spend my time unraveling.”
Captivating? A question to be answered, surely, but to bring the boy back …
Never once had their master shown an interest in heirs or familial legacy. The topic was one Sukuna often mocked, throwing such ties in the faces of the very clans he tore apart. But upon seeing the boy with his own eyes, revealing that Sukuna had ties of his own regardless of how he felt on the matter… This interest was different. Uraume could tell as much, which left them unable to tell if it was worth being suspicious of.
Perhaps the arrival of this boy was convenient. The timing— the location— they were not far from the estate Sukuna had claimed as his own. The beginnings of a permanent foothold. He’d taken a liking to it, being within familiar land, located far enough north from the capital to keep the sorcerers present within, unable to sleep soundly at night. Uraume considered these details carefully, knowing that Sukuna must have already done so. If he wished to take on whatever risk came with pursuing the origin of a son he never knew, then who were they to question him?
“Understood, Sukuna-sama.”
While they never read their master in full, should Uraume conclude that their master was pleased with this discovery, then his servant would be as well. Any discontent with the development would remain unspoken, and even the growing pains of a reunited father and son were bound to cause problems and unneeded difficulty in the future.
At least the boy was almost fully grown. If he were any smaller, or heaven forbid a babe, the difficulty of providing care would increase. Uraume was knowledgeable, but their experience with children was minimal at best. As for their master… Sukuna, with all of his marvels in the realm of sorcery, would either surprise them or be the absolute last person to rely on.
Uraume’s most straightforward task was walking alongside their master on their way home. They were to keep an eye out for any signs of stirring and deal with it accordingly. Another fight did neither party any favors, and the boy’s unnatural strength made him dangerous as far as a sneak attack was concerned.
Fortunately, his eyes never opened until their master breached the north pavilion that had been neglected since their arrival. The boy was placed on his back, one hand pressed flat on his stomach, giving a silent order to remain where he was while Uraume was instructed to close every screen to isolate the room’s contents from the world outside it. Their master’s supposed son was too weak and mentally shaken to protest, leaving this perfect opportunity to set the necessary barrier in place to keep him from escaping when nothing else would effectively contain him. His quarters would then be given the bare essentials, along with new, more fitting attire salvaged from previously obtained goods and an eventual meal that would cultivate the stubborn will to live, which kept the boy from completely breaking down in front of them.
Not once did the boy string a cohesive sentence. His tone was far easier to decipher as it often matched his expression, carrying disdain that dripped from his lips when he spoke more than a few harsh sounds. If the boy was short with their master instead, which happened more often, his breaths grew deeper, and his teeth often ground together as if he were on the verge of shouting until he could no longer contain himself. Refusing to kneel properly in front of Sukuna, who had granted the honor of taking a seat on the floor across from him, was an even more profound insult. But through all of this, their master allowed the behavior to continue so long as it was teaching him something about the boy in question.
Nothing Sukuna nor Uraume spoke appeared to be understood by the boy either. Unless he was a capable actor, Uraume held many doubts, and his confusion and frustration every time one of them spoke was telling enough. The boy was even more annoyed when the two exchanged words in front of him, though neither paid mind to any tantrums that would come of it.
“He speaks in tongues,” Uraume stated the obvious, sighing as they admitted defeat in their attempts to comprehend it. “His sentences are a garbled mix of proper worlds and sounds that do not connect. I believe the inflections are partially to blame, as I cannot say with confidence he is using a different language entirely. Though, there are some ‘words’ that make me reconsider.”
Said words are composed of sounds that traditionally weren’t combined or used for speaking in general. They possessed their own flow and rhythm, even appearing to break up the boy’s sentences as he took additional care when speaking them compared to others. This difference was subtle but not to be ignored.
“There is intent behind it. He’s foolish, but his mind is present and whole. It is not the work of a curse, either.” Sukuna waved a hand as he spoke, gesturing toward the boy, then shushing him when he attempted to break up their master’s words. The only cursed energy latched around the boy was his own, giving credence to Sukuna’s assessment.
The boy’s upper lip curled in disgust at their exchange. He then crossed his arms in a huff and shouted something consisting of three words, a syllable each. Their master repeated the phrase back to him in the same manner, more condescending and without remorse. Uraume could only raise an eyebrow at the exchange, while the boy squinted at him, ultimately shutting his mouth.
“What did you say?”
“I don’t know the exact meaning, but the brat has been repeating it quite a bit, and I have a sneaking suspicion that it is an uncreative expletive. He did a gesture the first time with his middle finger, and since it bore no impact on our fight, it wasn’t the activation of a cursed technique.”
“So you stooped down to his level and repeated it?”
At least their master did not repeat the gesture as well.
“Well, I—” Sukuna cut himself off, refusing to allow himself to be questioned in front of his son. There was something to be said about the results speaking for him, but beyond repeating phrases that carried implied meaning at best, conversing like this got them nowhere.
There was empathy to be had if he was raised by wolves, as his lack of decorum may suggest. Their master understood the struggle to survive and prevail. But when taking in the entire picture regarding what they knew so far, writing off his antics as anything lesser would not give an accurate answer to their questions.
The mystery of this boy only grew without a means to communicate, and nothing exemplified this more than when he later refused to remove his clothes to change into the fresh clothes that were offered, let alone take the opportunity to clean his skin of dirt and grime. He was given one day of stubbornness before the rules were enforced, and food was to be shoved in his face to ensure he did not collapse a second time. Said food would not be served until he appeared acceptable, but no matter how many times their master spoke or gestured to the act of undressing, the boy simply crossed his arms and refused.
It was too bad that he no longer had a choice.
“You will clean yourself!”
In response, their master received a furious howl that could only be his refusal. The boy shook his head, fighting every step to keep his clothes on until Sukuna had enough and dragged him outside the pavilion to where a basin of water had already been prepared.
“If you will not do it yourself—”
The weather wasn’t ideal for a swim or even a simple soak. If the boy were a normal human, he may very well develop an illness from the exposure. But if dumping the basin with the use of their master’s two free hands over the boy was enough to enforce the need for proper hygiene, then so be it. Uraume had been instructed to provide a fresh cloth to dry himself with and kneaded incense to remove any undesirable smells before shoving the provided attire once more to his face.
The boy stuck his tongue out.
He would survive.
His unwillingness to cooperate fell apart as a cold breeze passed by. Uraume had no need to lift a finger to get the boy to undress himself, though it would take a fair bit of time for him to put on his new clothes. He may have thought he could wait out whatever process could be done to clean what he arrived in. No act was made to destroy the strange garments, so he may have concluded that they would be returned in one piece. And he was half-correct. In time, they would be given back, but not soon enough that he would not have to wear the plain kosode and hakama provided.
Uraume had to walk away after seeing him put it on. His technique was serviceable, but the whole garment looked off-center, crinkled, and… At least he was wearing something.
Now, time could be taken to assess everything worn in his possession. What Uraume had first believed to be a physical mutation of his hands and arms was nothing more than a set of specialized cursed tools. Gauntlets of unknown purpose for their master to analyze later before storing them out of his son's reach. What had been equally as intriguing was not only their presence or what they were for, but what was missing underneath their removal.
Two fingers on the boy's left hand had been completely torn off.
While one appeared recoverable, even now, if the reverse cursed technique was applied, the other... The very cursed energy that should be attempting to flow through it as if it were a phantom limb had atrophied. Before Uraume could assess the odd set of injuries further, the boy tore his hand away and hide his fist out of sight. Even if it were possible, there would be no further discussion.
Alright then.
Uraume would move on to his clothes.
It was easy to say the style of each piece matched little of what Uraume was used to seeing. The materials feel like no other, with the bright red garment layered thick, most likely for insulation purposes. Even after washing, there were spots in the pieces that were scuffed and faded from use over time. But when Uraume flipped the piece inside out and assessed the stitching…
“Neat and precise. Whoever made it had an unnaturally steady and consistent hand.”
“And these?” Their master hovered over as Uraume worked, looking over what he could, as neither were expert seamstresses nor tailors.
“My apologies. I could not tell you. Just as with these tops and his oddly fitted hakama, the boy’s footwear is made with materials I am wholly unfamiliar with. These strings keep each piece bound to one’s foot, but it feels heavy and constricting. The boon with a design like this must be durability. And they are of the same shade of red as this.” Uraume compared the thick hooded garment and the shoes side by side. “I assume this was intentional.”
“Red is a costly dye. With this level of saturation… Either he is of high ranking, or he possesses a patron of similar standing.” Did this narrow down the potential list of possible mothers? Hardly. The boy’s inability to bite his tongue to simply pretend he held respect for his generous host and let them believe otherwise.
“There would be gossip about a boy sharing your features among the noble lords. The capital would not be able to contain it.” Uraume could easily envision the scandal. If the boy’s hair had been hidden with dye, then such a ruse would have lasted for some time. But there was no evidence of tampering with the pink shade he and his father shared.
“And no place we know of would produce attire like this… I would assume he is from a foreign land, but I have not traveled outside what is familiar. Even if his mother were to have fled somewhere far away, what place do you know of that produces goods like these?”
“The same place that housed your offspring.” The non-answer was all the Uraume could provide. Even if the boy could converse in their language, the chances of him revealing useful information were low. His distrust was obvious, and his father’s reputation for burning entire settlements to the ground was well known. The fear of retaliation for hiding his existence was not an unfounded one.
“Perhaps we are going about this interrogation the wrong way?”
If conversing as they initially tried gained them nothing, then teaching the boy their language was the only option to gain some mutual ground. Since many of their sounds were similar and the boy could speak their words within his jumbled phrases, associating those same sounds with different meanings should work if given enough time. Uraume suggested that they start with everyday objects and concepts that could be observed for the purpose of practicality.
To assist with memorization and to get a head start on the eventual need for the boy to be able to read and write, the proper materials were brought in to facilitate additional education. Uraume’s patience with the pair continued to wane as they observed them bicker nonsense— Sukuna continued to speak as though the boy would miraculously understand him any moment —over the symbols written in conjunction with the sounds heard.
As Uraume understood it, their languages mostly shared the same script, known as kanji. However, the boy was prone to writing in the more simplified scripts to denote specific sounds he heard. None of these scripts were aligned with how Uraume or Sukuna understood them, and when their master sought to correct this, his hands were immediately swatted away as the boy switched to a fourth script in protest.
The boy’s ability to know something they did not made his expression turn smug. Writing long-form thoughts and whatever else came to mind in this script brought him much joy, but it severely detracted from the original purpose they came here for.
Unlike the first three, the symbols were written almost entirely in one or two strokes, each without any form of elegance or care. They bore none of the similarities in shape, and Uraume could not fathom how to pronounce anything written with a degree of certainty.
On a separate sheet, the most complex symbol came last, written long after the three had given up learning for the day. It appeared similar to the ‘S’ symbol Uraume had previously observed by way of how the negative space was formed in the sixteen or so strokes used to make it. A couple more were found, stretched and squished, alongside other playful strokes that came about when a bored mind was given something to mess with at their leisure.
If words weren’t the immediate method of communication, then actions were.
Their master’s attempts at being a proper host often went unappreciated. They were noted, often with uncertainty and suspicion. Beyond that, the boy was not grateful for where his recovery took place.
It was expected that the boy would attempt to fight his way out. Sukuna had prepared for it. Their master found himself thrilled and full of anticipation. Yet, nothing came close to the actual act of fighting, in which Uraume was forced to work around at least once a day if they wished to complete their daily tasks.
Every confrontation was nothing more than a sparring session for their master, even if the hostility and desire for bloodshed never lessened each time they fought. Uraume was convinced the boy was trying to kill his father at every opportunity he could. Their concerns, sadly, fell on deaf ears.
“He is trying to kill you.”
Their master did not take his son's threat seriously; rather, he was enjoying himself with their fights and continuing to evolve alongside a partner who could keep up with him, so he found the risk worth taking.
“Let him continue to try. Many have sought to do the same, and none have succeeded. And should it be my own progeny that does me in, well, that will not happen. But it is a satisfying thought to humor.”
“If you say so, Sukuna-sama.”
Uraume bowed in acceptance, uttering a silent prayer that their master refrained from lowering his guard from whatever fondness could possibly stem from all this.
Interestingly enough, it was not the close calls of their fights that eventually caused Sukuna to snap out of his casual demeanor. Instead, it was the innate cursed technique his son had eventually revealed after his losses had reached double digits—blood manipulation.
The hallmark of the Kamo clan.
Their master’s son carried the symbol of sorcery via the metal found on his original set of clothes. His skill and understanding of both physical combat and cursed energy manipulation came with the natural assumption that he was trained in some capacity. To then discover that he could use the cursed technique from one of the three venerated clans… Describing Sukuna’s reaction as livid was an understatement.
“The Kamo Clan!?” Sukuna lunged toward the boy, one hand grabbing his wrist to hold his body away from the ground or any other object to grab or kick off of. He did this often, using his large body and long arms to keep the boy struggling for longer. But this time, the boy did not object to the demands that followed. He would not answer them, just as he refused to answer the many things that came before it. The boy did not see a reason to object to what had been so clearly witnessed. “You are of the Kamo clan, and you come here—”
His son did not respond. His mouth had stitched itself shut, his free hand tucked into an unmoved fist, while his feet dangled slack underneath. He would not look Sukuna in the eye as he was usually so determined to do. There was no defending the clan, whose blood had to be in his veins, almost as if he were ashamed of it.
None of the Kamo clan, their territory, or their connections bore any resemblance to the oddities their master’s son had arrived with. If his mother were one of them, the chances of her being a member of the clan proper dwindled on that fact alone. For all they knew, she could have been a bastard child herself or an expelled member forced to flee twice over—As if the birth of a son with no father was not enough to get her disowned.
“I see.”
Regardless, the somber attitude and lack of defense from their master’s son left Sukuna’s feelings on the revelation muddled. His demand for clarity would not come, even if he attempted to beat it out, so he dropped it altogether until calmer heads prevailed.
The boy did not attempt Blood Manipulation after that, not even at his father’s request. He resisted any attempts to have him demonstrate the cursed technique from the initial reveal and would not change his mind thereafter.
Uraume continued to call their master’s son ‘the boy’ as no name had been deciphered. He refused to share it despite knowing full well who Sukuna and Uraume were.
As the first son known to them, ‘Taro-sama’ would have to do as Uraume’s means of address. ‘Taro’ on its own felt incomplete, which led to the addition of ‘Su’ from his father’s title, which did not go over well with the boy in question. If he would simply provide a name, this issue would not continue to persist. As stubborn as he was, ‘ Gankotaro’ became the most fitting replacement.
Their master, in contrast, would not use either name or provide his son with one as a form of retaliation. Despite his parental role, it was unlikely that someone hadn’t taken care of the boy’s naming in the handful of days after his birth. His son appeared old enough to have just gone through his coming-of-age ceremony, so an adult name, nanori, may also have been chosen. That second fact stung quite a bit once Uraume had brought it up, though their master dismissed showing it.
On the sixth day of his son’s tiring stay with them, Sukuna had suggested calling the boy ‘Gakimaru,’ laughing over the way the boy’s face twisted with disdain over it. The first part seemed to grab the boy’s attention more than the rest, sending a sudden, aggravated jolt through his body whenever heard.
“So you know that word, do you?” Sukuna chuckled again, as the mouth on his stomach stretched in a wide grin. “I expect nothing less. It is only natural after the way you act.”
The reaction was enough for their master to keep referring to him as a brat, though he started shifting from ‘the brat’ to ‘his brat’ as he grew more comfortable with his guest poking and prodding to see how much he could get away with before Sukuna or Uraume intervened. Said epithet would not leave their master’s mouth, even as the boy lost his patience and protested with what must have been his name, given how he jutted his thumb against his chest and loudly proclaimed it to silence their master’s teasing.
“Yuji!” The boy shouted, repeating himself to ensure he was not misheard. “Name, Yu. Ji—YUJI!”
“Yuji..?” Sukuna repeated, contemplating it on his tongue by rolling it around to inspect whatever aftertaste it had left. Their master then spat on the ground before pointing at the boy’s chest and making it clear that the revelation came too late and that he would not be changing his mind. “I believe brat suits you better.”
Over time, more pictures were discovered whenever Uraume entered the boy’s quarters to tidy up while he was out. He was not permitted to travel too far from the estate without being dragged back by his father. While his rebellious nature would not be completely quelled, the act of being caught and restrained multiple times over was enough to keep him from second-guessing his decisions to run off every opportunity he perceived.
If he was not spending time dodging their master’s attempts to be in the same space as him, the boy remained in his room with his stacks of paper and enough ink to last the upcoming winter season. Uraume had thought he’d take the time to write, as many usually do, but to their surprise, the previous meandering strokes and simple doodles had become complex.
The boy held some form of talent. Desperation to capture what can no longer be observed indeed fueled his many attempts, refining it over time and leaving the originals crumbled and tossed every which way.
None were crude or mangled depictions, either—Uraume could easily interpret the different expressions of the many faces the boy drew. Many were strangers who would never be given elaboration. Other pieces were of landscapes and objects the servant had never encountered before. Concepts that would need much elaboration, as they could not tell what exactly they were supposed to understand or which angle to hold the paper up when observing certain subjects, though this rarely happened.
Sukuna could be found a few times over, but his pieces were often found sliced with cuts unnaturally clean and tucked under tatami mats, only to be found through sheer chance. Desecrating their master’s image was an insult. Yet, surprisingly, the very image the boy drew was accurate and without parody. Uraume would even dare to compliment it.
They eventually brought this discovery to their master. With all the additional faces the boy drew, surely there was one Sukuna could recognize, and the identity of his mother could be found. Their outlook was optimistic, yes, but any attempt was worth making.
The boy was lonely.
He had no qualms with spending time alone, but that did not change the fact that he lacked meaningful connections to engage with. Rather, he lacked the connections he wished to pursue. Neither Sukuna nor Uraume were any more than the arbiters of his cage and the few privileges he’d been granted within it. If there were others in his life, like the faces within his drawings, his ability to contact them had come to an end.
His dejection had led to a few positives, for which Uraume was grateful. The rebellious attitude had quieted down, remaining only within smaller interactions and targeted exclusively at their master. The boy had finally picked up on the words and actions that constituted the bare minimum of polite exchange.
“Thank you… Uraume-san.”
San? Uraume often heard whispers of gratitude, though he never gave them when Sukuna was present to catch it.
Tantrums had lessened as well. No more furniture, doors, or utensils needed replacement, which was lucky for the boy as his father was on the cusp of leaving him in a storage shed with only rags should he take for granted the luxuries provided once more. This lack of shouting and physical reaction was a side effect of a larger change: The boy had stopped engaging with his father entirely unless provoked.
He’d gone quiet, no longer prone to arguing or lamenting his woes unless it was in that language they had no name or origin for. Letters of inquiry and examples had been sent to neighboring lords among their trusted vassals, but nothing came of it. When the boy did respond, it was with the few words he knew of their language when applicable. If he did not know it, he would not attempt it otherwise.
The estate finally knew a bit of peace.
Uraume could rest without the need for absolute vigilance surrounding the father-son pair, but this boon came at the cost of their master’s previous amusement. His son became a cause for bitterness and frustration to which Sukuna, as far as he was aware, was certainly not to blame.
“He will not speak with me,” their master complained, sitting against the kitchen's threshold as Uraume cooked their evening meal. "He will not permit me to touch him, even if the intent is benign, such as fixing his attire or preventing that unruly hair of his from knotting.”
“His personal space is quite defined.”
“I cannot learn anything if he will not do anything! Maybe I should cut him loose and follow him, see where he goes, what he does? Once his true colors are revealed—”
“I can only imagine that ending horribly.” Uraume kept an eye on the rice and another on their hands, now occupied with cutting the fruit gained from their master’s most recent offering. They could only afford a bit of their attention if they wished to avoid injury. “A false sense of freedom would lead to betrayal upon being caught.”
“And? Why would I care about whether he is hurt from the obvious conclusion that I would not simply admit defeat on this matter?”
And yet, the answer to their master’s question was just as obvious. How would gifting something so precious, then snatching it away, benefit the long term? An immediate gain to some answers may bar them from the more important ones later.
“The answer lies in the same reason you are upset with his rejection in the first place. You would not be spending this much energy complaining about it if his actions did not bother you.”
“He should be grateful his father is present at all.” As he spoke, one of Sukuna’s hands rummaged about in the nearby pantry. All it took was for Uraume to turn around with a glare plastered on their face to prevent their master from ruining his appetite.
“You are not wrong.” Before Uraume could elaborate, Sukuna was already nodding in agreement.
“Exactly. My brat is the one at fault.”
“Yes, but—”
“Twisted by whoever raised him, and yet where are they now? Hm?”
Uraume sighed.
There was no use in arguing.
Rarely did the boy seek his father out. Even rarer was it that said pursuits were not a prelude to a sparring match between them.
The first time this miracle occurred, Uraume was sweeping the main hall. They had kept their distance from their master to avoid disrupting his evening on the outside veranda. This provided an accidental vantage point to observe their master’s son cautiously poking his head into the hall, cheeks red and puffed with eyes struggling to open, afflicted with a sudden swell of emotion if Uraume were to guess. The boy had shown no signs of illness earlier.
Whatever was the matter, the boy flinched upon seeing Uraume, quickly turning away only to catch Sukuna in his sights. His father had been his target. And while Uraume had prepared to deal with the possibility of the boy tackling their master from behind, the approach that followed was hesitant and stiff. Reluctant to draw near, the boy’s steps were easily heard, yet his father did nothing to react to him.
This decision led to the boy eventually standing by his father’s side, staring up at the overcast sky above just as their master was, taking in the pleasant breeze before sitting down and settling in place. This decision was already captivating on its own. Yet, what was more surprising was when the boy grabbed hold of himself before his head fell against Sukuna’s thigh. He did not collapse unwillingly— The act was intentional.
To say their master was stunned was an understatement. The best equivalent Uraume could make for this scene were those tales of animals approaching travelers without the expected fear to rest by their camps. Or when one had finally won over the gifted feline roaming through a lord’s estate. Both comparisons equated the boy to a beast, which wasn’t entirely inaccurate based on his initial demeanor, but they were the best Uraume could think of before walking away to grant the two an isolated moment to themselves.
Any plea in Sukuna’s eyes toward his servant would go unanswered, as they could not offer any advice on handling a moment like this. Silent apologies were all they could do.
Uraume would eventually return, however, freshly poured tea in tow for the pair, only to find the boy had passed out entirely and their master resting a hand on his shoulder simply because he could. Usually, but this time of night, Sukuna retired to his personal chambers by now. It would seem that current circumstances would see his routine delayed. Indulgence superseded rest, and Uraume would not speak a word to avoid the risk of ruining the moment. Instead, they simply bowed their head and left, preparing themselves for the lengthy summary of events their master would happily provide the following morning while his son returned to his usual, avoidant self as if nothing had happened.
The cultivated peace within the estate halted when a certain unwanted individual appeared unannounced at the front gate. An old acquaintance of their master that needed no introduction, the man’s insistence on philosophical roundabouts and rhetorical debates would only go on for so long before his previous would be repeated, and his presence was no longer welcome.
Death would bring this cycle to a swift end, but Sukuna always denied the option. Uraume couldn’t stand it, but they bit their tongue, bowed their head when expected, and denied such respect when their master’s patience wore thin.
This sudden visit, interestingly enough, would be different.
There was now a fourth among them—a fourth who was not kept hidden for very long, as Sukuna took great pleasure in dragging him out to boast and take credit for the strength and skill his son displayed in the realm of sorcery.
The boy initially had no interest and wanted to leave, actively fighting every step and almost wiggling his way to freedom. Sukuna had not yet used all of his hands against him, outnumbering the boy’s two, but when his son finally turned to acknowledge the new arrival to the estate, his movement ceased entirely.
Just as Uraume registered the recognition in the boy’s eyes, Sukuna’s son had already pointed at their visitor and began shouting nonsense just as he had during their original encounter with the same lively energy they were worried to have been lost. Their master did not know what to make of this. Sukuna was about to order him to stop, but just as he opened his mouth, the name ‘Kenjaku’ fell from the boy’s, ceasing all protest as another word soon followed:
Mother.
This was the same word used a dozen times over when interrogating the boy of his origin. Their master’s son had picked it up with little choice, and now he was repeating it with the intention of proving that it wasn’t part of the otherwise mangled speech he had returned to. Neither Sukuna nor Kenjaku were prepared for it. Kenjaku appeared scandalized, and Sukuna could not appear more lost on how to react to the news.
Uraume would not know what followed, as their ability to endure these revelations had reached its end. They closed their eyes and took a breath. Then, with a quiet apology, they offered to prepare something to drink for the completely calm and collected conversation that would surely follow after the shock wore off and the silence came to an end. If there were shouting to be had, well, Uraume would be occupied on the other end of the estate.
Their master was a powerful and imposing being. He should handle something as trivial as this on his own. And if he couldn’t, well…
There was still plenty of sake to choose from in their storehouse, wasn’t there?
Notes:
This prompt REALLY got away from me! This was supposed to be a short, humorous drabble. A joke, mostly, but then I committed to Uraume's POV and well... EVERYTHING JUST FUMBLED OUT AFTER THAT! WHOOPS!
Notes:
-I've written Yuji time travel fics before, specifically with this group of characters, but this time, I decided to make it even more silly by addressing the language barrier. Now, I don't know the SPECIFICS of how the Japanese language evolved (I barely know the history of the language I am writing in, but I do know that grammar and terms change over time + the introduction of regional/generational slang and English loan words would make it extremely difficult to communicate. I thought it would be fun to use this element to add to Sukuna & Uraume's confusion + playing with Yuji knowing English adds another layer of WTF??? Since the language wouldn't arrive to the island a few centuries later.
-Yuji's clothes are another example of 'mysteries from the future' giving him the impression of being from another location within the time period because who suspects time travel as the immediate answer? The color red was an extremely expensive dye to use and was often relegated specifically to high ranking nobility. While Yuji's red is probably synthetic and cheap to make in his time period, the impression he gives off wearing is the opposite XD
-Feral Yuji hours, my beloved. He is 100% suspicious of sukuna's intentions and is disgusted by the desire to embrace their assumed familial connection once he understands what is going on. His manners are far from Heian nobility, and his refusal to give Sukuna respect on top of that just make him a menace. Uraume equating him to a feral cat Sukuna brought him is priceless and correct.
-Not Uraume insinuating Sukuna is pulling a black widow on all of his nighttime partners >.>
-Yuji and Sukuna flipping the bird at each other will never be not funny to me. My sense of humor has juvenile roots. Maybe that becomes their love language? Haha.
-Yuji and the special S symbol everyone somehow learns to draw in middle school. Maybe this is the origin of it? >.>
-Heian naming convention! I didn't originally plan to address this again in a fic, but I couldn't pass up the opportunity. Noble boys tended to have three names. These were the yōmyō, the name given after birth around the sixth day mark and the zokumyō (a name generally based on the birth order of the child) and a nanori (an adult name). Sukuna 'missed' the opportunity to grant his given name, and he playfully calls Yuji 'Gakimaru' as a result.
'Gaki' comes from the Japanese word for brat, and 'Maru' is a very common suffix used in boy names. Uraume, on the other hand, gives Yuji a name following the rules for the zokumyō, the beginning half is often an auspicious adjective while the second half denotes birth order. The ending 'Taro [or Tarō] means first son, while 'Ganko' means stubborn. Gankotaro, Ie. Stubborn First Son. I thought this was all very neat, so I wanted to include it.
-Blood manipulation and Yuji's other CT: Yuji isn't from the Kamo clan, and he only gained it from consuming his siblings minus the three that were awakened. It is a sour subject. The perfectly cut pictures of sukuna are a reference to him using Sukuna's dismantle CT, but he's trying not to share it because he doesn't want to give it away to future sukuna.
-Yuji is a social creature who needs love and affection. He doesn't want it from sukuna, but since he's the only one available... he ends up flocking to him regardless.
-Kenjaku was Yuji's "Fuck it!" moment. Upon seeing them in the past, Yuji decides to let all hell break loose by trying to explain their connection and eventual time travel if he could get the words right or if Kenjaku could take a wild guess. Maybe doing this will help him find a way home?
-Uraume is so done. They are patient, and willing to listen through Sukuna's woes, but this family drama is too much for them. Especially when Kenjaku reveals some other choice decisions involving Yuji's creation. I don't think that would change how Sukuna feels, however. The man is just as stubborn as his 'son' XDAND THAT IS IT!
Way too many notes this time. God, this prompt as so much potential. I think a Yuji or Sukuna POV of this would be so cool, but I don't have the time to write one. If anyone wishes, you have my blessing! <3
Aaah I was supposed to write something else entirely this weekend, oh well! Q.Q <3 Thank you for reading!!
Chapter Text
Uraume took three hearty sips from a personal bottle of sake before returning with tea and a proper drinking tray in hand. An expert at keeping their appearance in check to avoid reflecting poorly on their master even in times as muddled as this, Uraume’s steps did not sway, nor did their composure break as they walked toward the yelling that would not cease. There was something to be said about the silence that preceded it. While it was not an attempt to begin the conversation following the boy’s claim with any ounce of civility, it was a gift for Uraume to take advantage of. A pause in which their mind could temporarily quiet and their breaths remain whole and uninterrupted, all before the abrupt return to reality that came with ascending the steps to the shinden.
Repetition filled the air as both ‘adults’ proceeded to shout over one another in a game of blame and responsibility. The real surprise when Uraume placed the tray down between their seats was that they were sitting at all. Their master never sat properly, legs loosely crossed with at least one palm flat against the ground for his upper body to lean on. In contrast, Kenjaku sat on his knees. Uraume did not know why, as he may as well be standing with the way his body shot up to refute every accusation. The kanmuri upon his head threatened to fall as his fan waved about in furious motions as if it could do anything in the wake of Sukuna’s willingness to escalate the conversation further.
To avoid getting in between them, Uraume took a step back and quietly moved to Sukuna’s side. An additional step was taken to claim the position behind their master’s right ear, standing in wait should they be called into action.
“What. Did. You. Do?” Their master asked again, his stomach’s teeth grinding upon each other as he came close to reaching for Kenjaku’s head. This conversation of circles was going to end, and if violence was the answer, so be it.
“Me? I have done nothing— to no one —to produce any offspring, including yours!” Kenjaku gestured first to his face, then his chest, holding enough shame not to disrobe in front of them to probe his point. “As you can see, I currently lack the compatible parts to accomplish that.”
He was not wrong. Kenjaku’s vessel was male, based on his attire and station. A man with a smooth and pampered face just below a full head of neatly tied up hair. The weasel had snuck into the emperor’s court as a veiled voice to whisper grand suggestions and cryptic warnings into his ear. For someone opposed to risk, this position was the most precarious one he’s held in a while, so close to the major clans while gaining immunity from their suspicions by way of his words. Thrill was an enticing sensation. It made hypocrites of many.
“You have not worn that face for long.”
“Are you hearing yourself? The face may change, but my vow to do so— Unless you admit that either your memory is failing or you allow yourself to drown in alcohol for you to possess gaps that outlandish fantasies can fulfill!?”
To that counter, Sukuna crossed his upper set of arms to leave his growling stomach mouth exposed. All four eyes glared down at the man, and while their master took the insult in stride, letting the rumble speak for him before addressing the obvious fact which neither could deny.
“Then why did your true name spill from my son’s mouth?”
“That is the question, isn’t it?” With an outstretched hand, Kenjaku gestured to the boy who’d remained quiet since their bickering began. “Why don’t we ask him that?”
All eyes moved toward the boy whose meager grin had finally fallen from his face. The use of sleeves to keep his mouth hidden did little to hide it. Uraume guessed that the almost childish display between the two adults by expression alone was enough reward to what he’d done. And now, after forgetting that he himself was the cause, the boy looked shocked to find that attention had centered on him and the mess he cannot explain. The pressure could not be any greater.
Uraume did not envy him. Nor would they provide mercy when the boy glanced their way—How could they? Anything going on in his head was his to know and Uraume’s to presume when enough clues permitted this. This accusation of motherhood went well beyond reason.
And yet, the boy raised his hand and pointed at Kenjaku to repeat himself once more.
“Mother.”
To Uraume, that word offered nothing further. To their master… a string was pulled between pieces of information, weaving an explanation that best fit what he had to work with.
“His vocabulary is extremely lacking as he does not speak our language. And now I understand why. This is some escaped experiment of yours—” Sukuna was on the cusp of climbing to his feet. His anger prevalent in the slow rising of his voice and the muscles tensing around his neck and shoulders. Really, it was the fists that gave his intention away.
“Now wait just a moment, I have done no such thing…” Pleading with both hands only earned Kenjaku a short pause. One that was wasted with closed eyes and the bobbing of his head in contemplation of something unsettling. “...Yet.”
“Yet?”
“Hush, I’m thinking.” The tip of Kenjaku’s fan hushed Sukuna’s lips at blinding speed. The man had lunged forward, stepping over the King of Cures to peer at the boy sitting behind him.
“Excuse you!?”
“This is certainly unexpected.” Kenjaku’s murmurings were not interrupted by the two hands shoving him off and the third sent to rip his fan away and snap it in half with the help of a fourth. The entire act was shockingly seamless, the two separating only for their master to rise and give chase to the mind lost in a world of his own thoughts. Uraume made a note to clean up the splintered remains of Kenjaku’s fan after the heat in their discussion quelled. “If what I am considering is plausible… But that would mean—”
“Spit it out or I will rip your tongue and your thoughts with it.” The threat was not made lightly. Sukuna had already grasped the front of Kenjaku’s robes and teased the act of lifting him entirely from the ground.
“Isn’t that counterintuitive to learning what I have to say?” Kenjaku, in turn, wasn’t nearly as frightened as before. Their mind was already turning with ideas, undeterred by mere words no matter how hostile.
The boy observing them held a different reaction only Uraume paid attention to notice. Each time his father grew to anger, the boy’s joy of the situation returned, albeit more shallow than before. He flinched each time his father’s cursed energy flared up. Not out of fear, but out of instinct to brace for it should their master’s anger turn toward him. In regard to the safety of his ‘mother,’ ’ any visible concern was non-existent. Uraume doubted they would find anything if they were to delve deeper. Suffice to say that the boy held no attachment toward Kenjaku, which Uraume found to be his best quality so far.
“The pain you would feel before I generously allow you to heal yourself is enough.”
“Fine. If you must be this way...” Kenjaku clicked his tongue, tutting one too many times before reaching into his sleeve to pull out a second, gaudy fan to hide his lips with. “My proposal requires certain steps to be taken in order to ensure I am able to uphold the terms of the potential binding vow we’ve been arguing in circles around. After being turned into a cursed object, you would require a vessel to reincarnate into. But the power you’ve amassed throughout your lifetime is too grand. The chances of a vessel durable enough to contain you being present when you awaken is astronomical, and I don’t take bets when I can fix the game.”
“You intend to create one.” Their master humored the conniving sorcerer’s words, starting to piece together what the creation of a proper vessel would imply. “You already attempted this?”
“And I succeeded! It’s bizarre how these things work out. It is really marvelous.” Kenjaku approached their master’s son in a far more contained manner, circling Sukuna just enough to avoid setting off the need for physical retaliation. “I wonder… Come here and let your ‘mother’ look you over.”
This time, it was the boy who took issue with Kenjaku’s advance. Discomfort caused the short hair on the back of his neck to stand. He was quick to shuffle behind his father, pressing against Sukuna back while facing off in any other direction that contained neither of his supposed ‘parents.’
Was parents even the right word? Based on where this conversation was going, the means of the boy’s creation may change that.
“Control yourself.” Uraume warned, acting within their duty to serve both their master and his claimed offspring. They took a stern step in front of Kenjaku’s path, hands folded and out of sight, allowing the lowering temperature surrounding them to be threat enough. Condolences for their relation, whatever that may be, were uttered within Uraume’s mind.
Sukuna eyed the interaction, permitting the boy to remain where he was.
“My brat detests me as it is. I wonder what that says about you?”
That was not something to be prideful about, but far be it from Uraume to wipe the smug look off their master’s face.
“Hmph. A lack of gratitude and respect.” Their guest gave an exaggerated sigh. After his energy dwindled, though his excitement for the discovery did not wane, the man pointed his fan toward the boy’s left ear. “His ears are twitching at the word vessel. If he’s already associated the sound with a basin or another container, then he must have put together what I’ve figured out by context alone.”
Kenjaku’s eyes held an infuriating shine to them. Something taunting, a superiority from unraveling more than the two other adults in the room. From the distance he kept that, Kenjaku engaged with the boy by tossing a single word to him.
“Vessel.”
Surprisingly, more than one word was spoken in response. Either Kenjaku had triggered it, or the boy finally felt the need to come clean. Regardless, he began with his own volley of nonsense before switching to what little he learned that the rest could understand.
“No vessel. No Sukuna.” The boy was not happy with his own answer, spitting some sort of curse on the ground to follow it.
“Sukuna is no longer within you, but his cursed energy has left its mark.” Like Sukuna, Kenjaku did not speak to him as if he knew nothing or even as if he were small and learning. Full sentences, proper grammar and pronunciation were all accounted for, forcing the boy to pick up what he could. “Your very being is drenched in it.”
Whether or not the boy knew the meaning of his ‘mother’s’ words, he cautiously departed from Sukuna’s side with his head lowered in what Uraume thought to be shame. If he had been denying the vessel accusation, Kenjaku was convinced otherwise. If he had only attempted to relay that Sukuna’s soul was no longer held within him, then clearly, there were reservations that came with how the boy felt about his role. Reservations that were far from positive if his reaction to Sukuna upon their recent meeting was any indicator.
Yet, the way the two spoke of the boy’s role…
“You are speaking of events that have not yet occurred.” Uraume interrupted their exchange, frustrated with the lack of clarity. Kenjaku still has yet to explain himself. How was the boy made if their master held no knowledge of… coupling between them. Had Sukuna been right in assuming his son was the product of an experiment? Then where did Kenjaku get a piece of his being in order to test it? The surprise Kenjaku held upon his ‘revelation’ appeared genuine, but Uraume knew them to be a well enough actor to put no value in it.
“That is because this one here is from far enough in the future that he was created and fulfilled his purpose in awakening Sukuna. How far in the future? Who knows? I have no particular schedule within my mind.”
The future? The boy leapt through time? Was that even… possible?
Surely, it must be, if it was the only explanation to make a modicum of sense. Outlandish and a bit fantastical, but time-based cursed techniques or domains that distorted time/interfered with one’s perception of time were not a new concept. A rare one. An unlikely one. But not an unknown one.
“Then why is he here?” Their master came to the same conclusion.
“Why do you look at me to divine the answer from his mind? Do you think I am to blame?” Practically whining, Kenjaku continued to beat his fan in a consistent, rhythmic sway. His words might speed up, but his actions do not, unbothered by the continuous accusations thrown at him. “I wouldn’t send him back. Messing with time does not benefit me, though I find the whole concept fascinating now that I get to experience it.”
“He was surprised to see Sukuna-sama. Quick to anger.” Uraume recounted their discovery of the boy. To say he held a grudge would be an understatement, given his continuous disrespect. His dislike for Kenjaku spoke for himself regarding the reason for his creation and the role he played in Sukuna’s eventual reincarnation. While one could guess he had traversed through time for the purpose of altering the future he originated from, Uraume was doubtful. He hadn’t meant to encounter his father, and when considering what little he arrived with… “He appeared with nothing, unprepared.”
“Then, an accident? Oh, my. What trouble. Poor thing must want a way back home.”
Home.
That world reeled the boy’s mind back into their conversation. Recognition brought urgency as he began to speak, enthusiastically shouting and nodding to proclaim his desires quite clearly in light of the communication barrier. However, what Kenjaku reacted to was not what the boy wanted, but another unexpected name that fell from his mouth.
“Tengen?” Kenjaku repeated, his outward demeanor tightening to hide the displeasure leaking through his smile. “You know her?”
“Tengen-sama! Help?” The boy patted his chest. “Home!”
“Help indeed. What did you do to get Tengen out of her isolation to speak to you?”
What was, admittedly, a good question.
Before Uraume could ponder it themself, they first turned to their master to find the displeasure accumulating throughout the exchange. Not on his primary face. No. Sukuna’s general annoyance remained a wall through which his eyes glanced from supposed mother to son and back again during their exchange. It was the second mouth over their master’s stomach that sported a disgusted curled lip. Teeth appeared and disappeared, harboring a desire to bite a certain someone’s head clean off for all that they’ve done and the idea they are now suggesting—That their master’s son could go back to whence he came. And if he were able to find the means, that Sukuna would permit him the ability to do so.
The talk of his son leaving had been the tipping point. All tolerance whittled down to dust. This conversation would reach an abrupt end, though the expected violence Uraume had braced themself for, lost most of its intensity the moment Sukuna met the bright expression of relief on his son’s face.
What he had witnessed was a fleeting spark. A flash of something neither he nor Uraume had seen before. An emotion that looked so natural that one had to wonder why his face refused to carry that same, elated smile at every opportunity given.
Their master’s son had just done the most jumping around of his own volition that either could attest to in days. Shutting it down now would almost guarantee it would not return anytime soon. Uraume’s silent expression relayed this as best it could. And Sukuna appeared to understand.
“Scurry off and investigate the matter as you please.” Sukuna waved a hand, gesturing for Kenjaku to vacate the estate in its entirety. “Do nothing further without my permission— There will be no more children between us.”
Uraume turned their head away, determined to keep their teeth clenched and mouth shut.
There must have been a better way to phrase that.
“Of course.” Acknowledging Sukuna’s words, and acting on them were very different things. Uraume held their skepticism tight, scoffing under their breath while Kenjaku prepared to leave, only to turn and prolong the inevitable. “And about my proposition?”
“What about it?”
“Well now that you see proof that you accepted it already—”
Their master finally rose to his full height to loom over the scheming sorcerer. He had enough of Kenjaku’s pestering.
“I have done no such thing. I can decide whatever I wish, and I see no reason to humor in this lunacy of yours any longer. Current events are far too interesting now that the future has come to me.”
“But what about your ves— Son?” Kenjaku wasn’t blind to the odd attachment Sukuna had formed with the boy fated to be his vessel. An appeal to emotion was a consequence of that. “If you do not agree to this, then I have no reason to create him, he would not go back in time to be here… It’s simple cause-and-effect.”
But Sukuna would not budge.
“My mind is made up. So either your cause-and-effect bows to me, or you do, and you will ensure my son still exists for this exchange to occur. Regardless, the universe will accept my choice. He will remain with me in my home.” The final emphasis was for his son’s ears to pick up. “Ensure that he can remain without some existential threat and I will not cut you in half.”
“As if killing me will assist with anything. But pulling myself back together is such a hassle, so I'll concede for now.” Kenjaku bowed his head, only slightly, showing the bare minimum of respect before leaving while speaking aloud toward the surrounding air. “My own curiosity demands I inquire about this further… But why did he have to mention her? Hm… Send for me when your boy can hold a proper conversation, will you?”
What point was this in sending for him? Knowing Kenjaku, the sorcerer would show up unannounced as he always had.
Uraume did not hide their exhausted sigh the moment Kenjaku was out of sight. Their master had done the same, only it was by kneading his forehead to treat whatever headache that now plagued him. The bottle that had been left untouched was enticing, but before Uraume could lift the tray off the ground to offer it, Sukuna’s attention had already found a new target—The boy attempting to sneak away now that his reason for being dragged from his room was no longer present.
One hand gripping the entirety of the boy’s head was enough to get him to stop in his tracks. Another reached for his left hand, once again noting the two missing fingers.
“You’re supposed to be my vessel, yet you are empty.”
Sukuna’s fingers forwent pulling hair because the threat of crushing the skill was enough to keep his son from making any rash actions beyond the glare that returned to his face. It was almost goading, daring Sukuna to follow through though nothing came of it.
“I find it unlikely that my reincarnation was thwarted, thus I am left to assume that another was found to take your place. Did you lead me to them? Perhaps not on purpose. Is that why you are filled with so much rage?” No part of Sukuna believed himself capable of failure. Uraume considered it, but then perished the thought soon after. Their caution was for their master’s sake, but they would not dare doubt Sukuna’s power and will. “Regardless of how you ended up this way, I doubt you were content with simply being a vessel. You craved something more, even if it was just the selfish desire to survive as you please. I can respect that.”
His son may not be able to understand all his father’s words, but he may surmise that it was as close to praise as Sukuna would get.
“You will learn to respect me in turn. This era is mine, this estate and the land surrounding it all answering to me. I have afforded you more mistakes than any other. You do not want to find out when my patience comes to an end.”
At the very least, the boy understood reprimand. His frown matched his fathers, exaggerated just enough to make their master sick of seeing it.
“Go.”
Sukuna shoved the boy away, allowing him to disappear wherever pleased him. In all likelihood, his son would just end up back in his room for a false sense of privacy.
“The future…” The thought lingered for a while, until the taste grew stale on Sukuna’s tongue. Then, suddenly, a laugh broke through the pause and shook their master’s chest. “I hardly believe this was an accident.”
“He came here with purpose?” Uraume inquired, wondering how much leniency they should truly be giving their master’s son.
“If not by his own choice, then fate surely delivered him as a gift and a warning. Kenjaku is something else, to create a vessel that can defy me…” Retaliation was in order. Uraume could see the thoughts and plans written out behind their master’s eyes. It was not enough to deny the sorcerer his offer, but to pay him back multiple times over for whatever tricks he sought to pull. “I will have to deal with that snake in due time. For now, my son remains in my custody and out of his reach.”
“Forgive me for this additional question, but, is it wise to continue with the freedoms you’ve granted? The boy is also… his mother’s son.”
“If he were capable of doing further harm…” Their master gripped his chin in thought. “My brat is biding his time, but he cannot hide it well. Far too easy to read. This era truly is unknown to him. There is nowhere familiar to escape to. No place that would dare offer him sanctuary. If he does not realize that now, he will eventually learn.”
“The question, Sukuna-sama.”
“I suppose, if he manages to take advantage of his situation and move against me without forewarning, I will be impressed. I will also act accordingly. He may be Kenjaku’s spawn, but he was created with my image in mind. I own him, and his place will always be beneath me.” Sukuna turned to his servant, “Is that sufficient enough, Uraume?”
“It is.” Content, Uraume bowed their head. “Thank you, Sukuna-sama.”
Once Uraume was left alone to clean up the minor mess left behind, they took one look at the unused bottle and contemplated one more sip. They ultimately declined, aware that they had more than enough prior to the enlightening conversation that put a few too many unwanted images in their mind. The fear of the inevitable clash between father and son kept their mind in search of clarity, as one-sided attachment could really only end in disaster should reciprocation not occur.
For their own sake, Uraume prayed the boy would behave and accept whatever fulfillment Sukuna was seeking from him. But, since he was also his father’s son, that stubborn defiance would surely remain with him.
Uraume could feel it.
The boy’s education was slow, but successful. He was more open to learning after Kenjaku’s visit, seeking out the ability to inquire more about where he was and what transpired in the world beyond his father’s estate. However, a double-edged expectation to answer more questions when the ability to do so presented itself soon after some strides were made, curbing the boy’s willingness to engage with his new vocabulary back to its moments of rarity. The beginnings of grammar were taught, but he chose to keep his speech simplified when forced to interact.
At least he would speak when being taught to improve memorization. Uraume was successful in getting their master’s son to repeat words and phrases that were of use in day to day life around the estate. Objects, descriptions, and relations that were all things Uraume could demonstrate in front of him garnered the best results. Anything further required drawn examples or in Uraume’s case, shaping the ice they formed into whatever was required if obtaining the object in question would be too much hassle. In contrast, Sukuna’s lessons, if he were inclined to offer any, relied heavily on teaching physical terms for the body and its relation to combat. Cursed energy and theory, which he and his son were already well aware of, found a middle ground in their terminology relatively quickly through consistent similarities… Not without shouting over what Uraume assumed was preference, of course. Their lessons were short and often devolved in this manner with words turning to fists shortly after.
The need to intervene grew each time Uraume witnessed their communication breakdown. Yet, just as the boy often did with Uraume’s lessons, he took what notes he could after retreating back into the northern pavilion. Something was being retained. Whether it was positive or negative… The servant could not be sure.
At this point, the boy’s writings had become volumous. The notes he had written were extensive, broken up into the characters Uraume had taught him, the ones he contended with from his own language, and a third column which used a simplified script was left to the imagination. Perhaps they were the phonetic writings for memorization? Regardless, his lesson notes were kept separate from his personal writings which often changed scripts to whichever suited his needs.
What the boy had inadvertently created was a cipher.
Uraume had only realized this one day while their master’s son was out surveying the gardens and feeding the carp drawn to the pond’s surface whenever he drew close. Curiosity had gotten the better of Uraume, and with the cipher in hand, they attempted to read fragments and pieces of what the boy had been personally transcribing. Unfortunately, they could not get far. Legibility was difficult in some places, whereas in others, the script was written in a different direction, which added to their frustration.
More time to sit down and assess his works was needed. But the boy never strayed from his room for long, leaving Uraume to put things back where they found them and try again another day to avoid becoming a greater cause for his ire than his own father. If the boy noticed his things out of place when he returned, he hadn’t made a point to react as such. The potential for a greater outburst had kept Uraume watchful.
Nothing came of it.
And Uraume was left grasping for the blanks in what they knew of the boy to be filled.
They still did not know what time period he originated from. ‘The future’ was a nebulous term. When they overhead Kenjaku speak of his proposal, centuries were often given as a potentiality. Never a specific amount. It was always ‘a few centuries here’ or ‘a couple centuries there’ to gather the necessary sorcerers, the population to boom, and for all components of his ritual to fall into place. When put into the stasis Kenjaku described, the passage of time meant nothing for one moving forward.
But for someone traversing into the past, how far they went would affect how much control they possessed over what events could be altered and what scale their goals could be met.
And speaking of Kenjaku, there was still something about the creation of Sukuna’s vessel that Uraume couldn’t quite understand. If he were created in their master’s image, then why did he inherit the Kamo clan’s Blood Manipulation technique? Sukuna had purposefully withheld information about the boy from the sorcerer. Uraume was not going to go against his wishes and inquire about a creation process they did not need to know about. It was just a detail that the servant found… strange.
Had Kenjaku taken a woman from the Kamo clan as a vessel on purpose? Was Blood Manipulation required for the experiment to succeed? Or was it a matter of convenience? Or did he not wish for the vessel to carry Sukuna’s techniques?
Was it not offensive to refuse to pass down something so inherent to Sukuna’s name?
Sukuna agreed with all of the above to some extent. Their master wished to understand what ties his son held and if there were any loyalties that needed to be corrected. More importantly, the use of Blood Manipulation would make their sparring sessions far more interesting. With knowledge of his temporal leap, the cursed technique may have evolved beyond what Sukuna was already familiar with. This fact had reignited Sukuna’s desire to see it, and now not a day would go by without their master pestering his son to use a cursed technique that he still did not wish to discuss.
Why the shame in it?
Did the boy find it inadequate? Did he come to the same conclusion, and harbor resentment that the technique was not his father’s?
All of this pestering would eventually bear fruit, but not in the grand display of skill and supreme art that their master wished. His son, after being thrown on his ass one time too many in the courtyard, bit down on the tip of his thumb and tore it open. Blood spilling into the air, painting the sky in an mesmerizing arc before being flicked at the end, essentially whipping the long trail of blood directly at Sukuna’s face in an effort to blind him. Their master reacted quickly, raising his hand to intercept and block the attack. This did not stop his son from repeating the motion a few times over, recoiling his blood and shooting toward his father until Sukuna grabbed the boy’s hand and ordered him to cease.
The loss of blood did not seem to impact the boy’s system. While he had remained seated on the ground during the entirety of his attack, it was by choice. His apathy had grown, and his interest in fighting now that he had demonstrated what Sukuna had demanded left him unwilling to engage. Fatigue should have played a larger role, but he didn’t. Was his body enduring the blood loss, or was he immediately creating blood to compensate through the use of the Reverse Curse Technique? Sukuna should be close enough to tell…
“How are you doing that?” Sukuna’s question held an obvious answer, but that was because he did not phrase it correctly. What he wanted to know was ‘Why?’ just as Uraume did. Why Blood Manipulation? Why not Shrine or any of its sub-abilities? “Inheriting that technique of all things… What was Kenjaku thinking? Though, I suppose I should be grateful you weren’t born from the Zenin clan or the Gojo clan. I could only imagine how worse your attitude would have been.”
The boy recognized the names, glancing back to Sukuna first when Zenin was spoken, only for his eyes to widen at the mention of Gojo. All three families were alive in his time, whenever that was.
“Who taught you? Was it your mother? I will not be blamed for the way you fight. It is abhorrent.”
Abhorrent? Brutish would be more accurate, but it was not as if their master avoided relying on his innate strength either. Sukuna’s cursed energy was more refined, but he also possessed the aptitude and many more years over his son to hone it. If they were to have met at the same age, Uraume was left to wonder how similar the two could have been.
“Brother.” His son mumbled an answer neither Uraume nor Sukuna were ready to hear, refusing to give Kenjaku credit. “Brother, teach.”
“You have a brother?” There was a hefty amount of skepticism in Sukuna’s voice, but Uraume knew that there was a lot more to it. Anger rumbled underneath it, as did a groan toward a particular sorcerer about to follow.
To answer their master’s question, the boy held up both his hands, initially dissatisfied with how many fingers he had to work with. Thus, he lowered one and flashed his right hand twice. First with all five fingers splayed out. Second with his thumb tucked in to show four.
“Youngest.”
Nine siblings. Upon including the boy, that made ten in total. He was oddly forthcoming with the information. Then again, his answer had made Sukuna’s face contort while the rest of his body didn’t know whether to shake his fist toward the sky or strangle the air when storming off to deal with his outburst privately.
“I told him no more children!”
Uraume was only… half convinced that their master was about to leave the estate and track down Kenjaku himself, wherever that nuisance may be. Seeing as how his son was still present after his denial of the offer to see him created, Uraume did not know whether any actions or information shared here would affect the future the boy was from. Further information was required.
After rushing toward the laughing fit taking place on the grass in their master’s absence, they soon understood that the additional children were not Sukuna’s to claim or disregard, but from another parent entirely. A woman, whom Kenjaku had been with previously in a different vessel before transferring to a female to facilitate the creation of Sukuna’s vessel.
Grateful for the clarity, Uraume then headed off to chase after their master, relaying their newfound knowledge as soon as their master was calm enough to receive it.
While no stranger to finding both father and son poking about in the kitchen Uraume claimed dominion over, the first time the boy properly stepped inside to engage with them during meal prep happened a few days after the reveal of his extended family. No one denied the boy access to food once he started to willingly eat it. Both Uraume and Sukuna agreed that he still did not eat enough, leaving the kitchen open for him to sift through so long as his behavior remained in check to earn their generosity.
Mostly, the boy kept to himself and quietly snuck a few items to snack on and nothing more. Today was different. Today, the boy stood by the far wall with his hands behind his back to watch Uraume begin their preparations. He avoided eye contact when Uraume turned left or right to move from one station to another, but they would eventually have to turn around completely to sit at the table and begin peeling and chopping roots and vegetables. Fish would need descaling after. Then fruits were to be sliced and everything in between were left as something to take up time between steps in Uraume’s process.
Their time in the kitchen was a quiet one. Often a solitary one as well. The boy’s presence wasn’t a concerning one, but one that made them feel uneasy by breaking up this routine for no reason other than to pretend he wasn’t watching. It was a tad annoying.
“Is there something I can assist you with, Taro-sama?” Uraume had shifted back to the nickname, often finding Gankotaro a mouthful and not worth the tantrum that came from it. The boy’s reaction to it had dulled with time, tolerating it far more than anything Sukuna had come up with. “If you are looking for Sukuna-sama, he is forbidden to enter here until the evening meal is ready.”
“Not Sukuna.” The boy glanced around at the kitchen and then at the ingredients laid out before him. “Want… Help Uraume-san cook.”
Help them? Uraume pondered the offer. A second pair of hands was not necessary, but they weren’t to be discarded so easily. Did the boy know his way around a kitchen? As long as he wasn’t in need of supervision at every step, Uraume failed to see the harm in humoring his offer.
“So long as you refrain from poisoning the food, Taro-sama may help.”
The boy didn't catch Uruam’s comment, too focused on nodding along and reaching for the closest implement to mimic the servant’s actions as best he could to speed along each step of preparation. He possessed nothing on him, as far as Uraume could tell, though even if this was some foolish attempt on their master’s life, poison would do no good. The boy would only be harming himself when it came time to eat.
Fortunately for everyone, the boy’s offer had been genuine. He was a decent help as well, waiting to be given orders and following through without little trouble. He made any confusion known and quickly corrected his errors with Uraume’s guidance. Neither talked outside of their tasks, which kept the usual silence in place with only a few additional sounds of chopping or stirring to fill the air when Uraume had moved from one item to the next.
A vigilant eye was kept to see what the boy would do with the knives in his hands, but they too were all accounted for by the end of their work. He never once sought to strike them while their back was turned. Instead, he felt comfortable enough to hum under his breath a tune Uraume did not know while he worked.
It was strange to see him so… content.
And it was not until they were almost done, with all that remained was the rice before everything could be plated, that Uraume guessed that being in this space was comforting and familiar. The boy didn’t present a large smile, but his lips often curled just a bit at the edges. His eyebrows, usually knitted together, had relaxed, as did his shoulders, only tensing up when Uraume brought out a small bowl of citrus fruits for them to peel and take a few bites from as a reward for his effort.
Uraume had also pulled out a bottle of sake, pouring them each a taste before putting it away in favor of preparing tea as they were expected to. This was the second part to their expression of gratitude, though it would seem that the boy would not reach for it as they had, leaving Uraume a bit confused.
Their master’s son shook his head after Uraume gestured toward the drink, insisting it was for him.
“Are you sure?”
His father indulged in sake often enough that Uraume was surprised. The boy stared down into his wobbling reflection on the liquid’s surface.
“Fifteen.”
“Fifteen? Fifteen what?” Uraume was confused.
“You fifteen, uh— Me fifteen? I’m fifteen.”
Oh!
The boy was sharing his age. It had taken three tries, but he managed. The lessons were getting through to him. Their master’s son was fifteen years old.
Was he… Trying to say that he was too young?
“You are not too young, but I expect that norms change overtime.” Uraume mused, almost laughing at the thought of denying anyone a simple drink for such a long period of time. “Fifteen… That would make it roughly ten years of practicing Jujutsu sorcery… As expected for Sukuna-sama’s child to supersede many peers who would share your age in his time should you meet.”
“One.”
Another number.
“Hm?”
“One year sorcerer. Less. No cursed energy before.”
Less than one year? That did not make any sense. Cursed techniques—cursed energy on a fundamental level took time to learn and understand. Even prodigies such as Sukuna required an early transitional period between ignorance and enlightenment. And even if this first step came naturally, developing one’s innate techniques… One required cursed energy to even understand the concept, but the boy claimed he possessed none? Sukuna’s cursed energy imprinted on him, so he possessed it now. The incident that this occurred, perhaps on the day the boy’s role as vessel was fulfilled… was less than a year ago for him.
He was not his father, but he was far above the foot soldiers who were sent to stall the King of Curses in battle against the clans who had fallen at Sukuna’s feet. The boy showed an impressive ability to delay his cursed energy so that his punches hit twice, striking first with his physical strength and then with the cursed energy flowing inside him. Such a technique was unseen in prior combatants. His ability to enforce his body and make seamless use of the reverse cursed technique… He kept up with his father, reading his attacks, often coming close to pulling one over—Dare Uraume admit that they were impressed?
Any doubt that he and Sukuna held no relation and this was all some grand trick disappeared after that. Uraume gently pushed the boy’s sake closer to him, content with the answers they received as once they were shared with their master, Sukuna would find delight in them as well.
“Drink, Yuji-sama.”
The boy, Yuji, lit up at the use of his name. He bowed his head ever slightly, no longer arguing against the offer by bringing the shallow cup to his lips. One taste was enough for him to reel his head back and stick his tongue out, offended at the liquid, but not enough to force himself to finish and cough his way through recovery afterward.
Uraume didn’t believe this bottle to be that strong, but they were quite numb to its… unique flavor. Water was quickly offered to quell the burning in his throat. And as they moved to collect it, Uraume couldn’t help but feel the hairs on the back of their neck stand up after catching a sudden wash of envy from somewhere down the hall.
Sukuna must have come in search of his son, or to inquire about when their evening meal would be served. Regardless of their master’s reason, he was not too pleased to be left out of their conversation, even if he made no effort to join in now. There would be a lot to say on it later, leaving Uraume to shake their head and get back to work, urging the young master to scurry off and run into his father to distract Sukuna for a bit longer while they prepared for the evening ahead.
Notes:
I had more plans for this chapter, but the first scene became WAY too long. So, I split up the chapter which means I don't know how long this fic will be... Typical me behavior, but still! This is a curse, i would like to be relieved of it. >:(
I also do not have a chapter title naming sequence planned as a result. Big sad.Notes:
-I'm using He/Him pronouns for Kenjaku since his vessel is male. His physical appearance is a rather average face/expected features of the time period. Kenjaku's outfit is based on Bunkan sokutai (hōeki no sokutai) sugata, which is formal court wear for a civil official. His headpiece is a kanmuri, which today, is only worm by Imperial Family and government officials on rare occasions, such as weddings and the accession of new emperors. His fan is a specific type known as a hiogi, which is a wooden fan made of cypress and tends to have art depicted on them. I think it's funny that he has a back-up fan in his sleeve, like he knew he was going to lose one to Sukuna one of these days by pissing the curse off.
-The shinden is the main, central building of a Heian estate.
-Sukuna telling the universe to bow to him is such a power move. He really does not care about the greater consequences of time travel, only that he has what he wants now, and he's pleased with it. He is also refusing Kenjaku custody / any interaction time with Yuji, which is both sweet but also possessive as heck. Yuji, my guy, Sukuna is really not going to let you go.
-Yuji is slowly learning to communicate! Yahoo! grammar rules between English and Japanese are quite different, as well as how each language conveys thoughts and ideas. As such, don't take how his language skills evolve in the story as a one to one representation, but rather a similar equivalent.
-Yuji on the ground slapping sukuna with blood manipulation like a child with one of those stick hand toys throwing a tantrum. It was such a silly scene, but I could not stop myself from writing it. I was also going to have Yuji draw out the simplified stick version of 'loss' either in his writings or on the ground at some point, but I couldn't fit it in right. So, just know that it is present and will remain an untranslatable mystery to Uraume.
-Sukuna is so scandalized at the thought of more kids. Hell, he was scandalized to find out Kenjaku even made one! The man does not need more children. He just wants his perceived precious boy.
-Yuji's love for cooking is something I repeatedly indulge in when writing him. Uraume and him bonding is also a must. Plus, is makes Sukuna jealous. His envy brings me so much life. He's probably lurking down the hall or looking through a window. "I wish that were me..." But he also doesn't do much to help his case haha
-Uraume will finally use Yuji's proper name in narration more often. :3 I decided to remain in their POV because it just fits everything that I'm going for.I think that is everything! <3
I'll probably keep swapping between this fic and my Kami!Yuji series as far as updates are concerned.
I'm VERY excited for what I had initially planned to end this chapter on. After that... well, that really depends on what my impulsive brain decides. XD Thank you for reading!
Chapter Text
“Bribery was the underhanded tactic of the woefully pathetic and foolish. Utilizing one’s resources or the promise of something to obtain at a later date in order to curry favor only occurred in the weak, lacking the strength to take on those who opposed them in order to claim their desires for themselves.”
Those were Sukuna’s words to Uraume the first day they witnessed a group of nobles cowering at their master’s feet, offering anything and everything with their pitiful domain to see that his terror came to an end. In the early days of their servitude, Sukuna refused to humor these displays of fealty. Their master pursued his desires without restraint. A calamity at its finest, undeterred from a chaotic path put into motion long ago. One would not think to argue with a raging thunderstorm above. Why would the so-called King of Curses be any different?
It was only in recent memory that Sukuna attempted to stake a permanent claim. Purely out of spite, the sorcerers and their ancient clans saw themselves so high and mighty, yet it took little for their master to topple them one by one until all that remained were the huddles of masses awaiting the next attack that still had yet to come. A lord was to have land to own and people to rule. If he wished to make an even larger footprint in history, and mock those he tore so much from, then why not use his title as King as a means to rule over those willing to submit? But being a simple leader amongst the common folk wasn’t enough.
Time and time again, humans would bow to his feats of strength while requesting aid in trade for food or even knowledge. Anything to satiate the hunger that drove their master, someone out there would possess it and attempt to barter in the wake of where others failed. The only reason the offerings found success was because their master was generous enough to change his mind. The only reason Sukuna’s mind was swayed was because he preferred the worship he received equal to that of a deity that needed to be quelled far more than a simple lord overlooking those living on his land.
To not only be an object of fear but one of reverence fueled something within him. And thus, Sukuna’s name had taken on a new meaning, and the sorcerers who opposed him were even further displeased.
As a consequence of allowing lords to bow to his rule, they would visit the estate on rare occasions to inquire for guidance or aid. Sukuna would answer their summons and allow short conversation, simply to fulfill his end of the newly established status quo. He did not have to. Many of the requests were pleas for permission to build or provide updates on the status of the surrounding land’s expected bounty. But the chance of news leading to something greater, such as a fight with an intruding curse, the discovery of a sorcerer rummaging through the remains of those who defied his claim, or even the declaration of war— The monotony of building influence and managing his domain broke ever so spectacularly.
These visits and the small tasks that followed did not stop with the discovery of his son. Some were delayed, but once the boy’s residence had been secured, there was nothing keeping Sukuna bound to his home forever. Yuji was suspicious of finding the estate’s master absent but did not inquire much about it beyond the explanation provided to him. He did utilize Sukuna’s absence to attempt an escape, but Uraume had easily cut off his routes with walls of ice and other hazards aimed at showcasing just how unprepared he was for the bitter winter ahead. The lecture that followed thoroughly explained the holes in his plan, especially the part regarding the barrier Sukuna had erected to detect those who crossed it. Uraume found that this method did more to convince the boy to stay put than any additional fighting between them. It was here that Uraume caught that look on his face. A very specific grin, forced to restrain itself against foolish confidence that the servant had to deflate with a disappointed look of their own.
It was on the verge of becoming a game.
Uraume dearly wished it never evolved further.
Their master was not the ideal candidate for the role of fatherhood. But, he was far from the worst. Active attempts were being made to connect with the son fate had brought him, which held its own sense of irony, as Uraume pieced together that it was Sukuna himself from the boy’s unknown future that drove such a profound wedge between them. Why? The only one who could possibly say was the boy in question, and his lips were sealed.
“Welcome home, Sukuna-sama.”
“Uraume, fetch my brat and bring him here.”
“As you wish.”
Uraume had already already bowed their head and began their walk to retrieve the boy in question. Yuji was certainly in his quarters, and while he would whine and groan about being summoned, he would not fight Uraume too much so long as they didn’t push too hard.
Sukuna’s return from whatever mission he’d given himself, his request for his son, and Uraume’s retrieval had become a pattern they noticed a bit slower than expected. The first time this occurred, they did not question the reason nor the outcome, but as their master kept up this same sequence of events, his servant began to pay closer attention.
Their master brought more than just the expected payment of his time, but small gifts and trinkets to be dangled just out of reach in front of his son. They were to be earned, claimed in a humorous game of keep away that often escalated, forcing Uraume to summon a gust of cold air to whisk said gift out of harm's way until Sukuna had his fill. While the song and dance initially frustrated the boy, being able to accomplish the feat of disarming his father of the intended prize was more rewarding than the item itself.
New brushes, inks, and other supplies to allow the boy to continue with his writing and art were the first of Sukuna’s gifts. The second was a bag of shells, carefully wrapped from the coast with the intention of playing a small game of matching patterns and poetry writing that ultimately held no meaning to the boy. While the point was lost, the shells were nice to look at on their own, and his son did pick out a favorite, so it was not a complete failure.
The same could not be said for the bow and arrows for Kyudo nor the soft ball brought for Kemari. Both were amusements meant for two, but ended prematurely after their respective projectiles were aimed toward Sukuna’s head in an obviously purposeful manner. Their master’s automatic response was to cut them down with his technique, sparring only the bow, which would be returned to at a later date once his son learned to appreciate the art it represented.
None of these failures would deter their master, however. Too stubborn to let the matter be, Sukuna pursued the path of games to appeal to his son’s age and childish tendencies. Ironically, his actions reflected back to him all the same, but who was there to say it aloud? Willingly, that is.
Success came only one time as of this account, and that was with an illegal board game Sukuna did not care too much for until he showed his son the dice and pieces taught him how to play. The game was suggested by a lord who met Sukuna’s challenge to offer a solution to his vague, but easy to grasp problem. Little skill was required in playing said game, relying almost entirely on luck, yet it was this aspect of it that drew the boy in and demanded more time be spent with it.
Gambling was a terrible vice.
Bribery only revealed hypocrisy in their master’s words.
And observing the two from afar as a gossip would be no better than either of them. Uraume could not help it. Witnessing their master desire the interest of someone else for the first time was too strange to ignore.
Sukuna was used to being the center of attention. Normally, all it took was a harrowing display of force to draw all eyes toward him, but his son’s recent bout of apathy had taken an interesting toll. Now, while not having explicitly stated this to be the goal, Sukuna had managed to teach the boy to care whenever he returned to the estate. This led his son to inadvertently wander toward the estate’s main road whenever Sukuna’s cursed energy could be felt drawing near, curious about what their master may have brought for him next…
The boy— Yuji —still did not speak unless necessary. He rarely initiates a given conversation unless his attention is demanded first. Sukuna often forced him to use his words, refusing to allow gestures or expressions to do the heavy lifting should they communicate at all. Uraume was a bit more lenient, by the smallest of margins, simply due to the fact that they could utilize each frustrated struggle to pull new words from memory as a teaching moment. Beyond that, however, Yuji did not engage unless he had to, continuing his desire to keep company with solitude until he was forcibly dragged away by his father’s hand.
Being silent for so long to carry on such a stubborn display… The many pictures he drew of people who managed to bring such fond and longing expressions to his face were not strangers. Unlike his father, he was most likely a social butterfly akin to his mother. Yet, his faces were too honest, hiding nothing. With how much the boy shouted upon his discovery and the subsequent days of his recovery, Uraume had thought him to be the talkative type. The one whose mouth ran faster than their mind. And while it overtook him from time to time, Yuji kept his lips tight so long as there was the possibility of another being within earshot.
Yet sometimes, his vigilance faltered.
Sometimes, his thoughts slipped through the cracks and poured out for others to gather and contemplate on the meaning. They were in the language of the future. What good were the sounds to their ears?
If not Yuji’s quarters, the gardens remained his favorite place to be. While many species of plants lost their leaves and withered by autumn’s end, the previous owner of this estate had invested in many flowers that endured until the first sign of snow. Many were wildflowers that had been bred and nurtured to bloom far beyond their season. Imported and nourished until the soil became theirs, the array of colors against otherwise washed-out greens and browns still offered plenty to gawk at during a casual stroll through the winding path that had been kept clean and maneuverable.
“What trouble does the brat wish to entertain himself with today?”
Sukuna would often observe his son from either the main building’s engawa or a far pavilion on the other side of the garden. He purposefully kept his presence to a minimum, overcome by his attempts to understand why the animals that strolled into the garden captivated the boy so much. What meaning did the symbols and other drawings in the dirt hold before being smeared away underfoot? Why must the boy climb into the trees and hang from the branches, hands outstretched and left to sway in the wind until his arms grew numb and his head too dizzy to look straight in any direction?
“I do not know what the young master intends, but I fear that he will one day jump into the pond if we are not careful. I have caught him dipping his toes down from the bridge overlooking its center when his fingers grew too cold.”
“Why?”
“The fish nipping at him brings amusement. He tries to get closer to them, but once his hand entirely enters the water, they swim out of his reach.” If not by jumping of his own volition, then Yuji would certainly end up slipping and falling if he kept pushing his luck.
“I see.” Their master mused, attempting to picture the scene Uraume described. “I wonder if fishing is something he holds an interest in…”
As Sukuna pondered the logistics of such an excursion, Uraume wondered just how many boys Yuji’s age held the same privilege to wander about as he did each day. Ignoring the commoner who was expected to work to earn the right to their meals and the rest required to continue the cycle they were born in, a boy his age was expected to be studious and active in the affairs of his father. If Yuji were to be treated as the nobility, his clothes and home suggested— If Sukuna were of the sorcerer clans serving the emperor —then his son’s days would be spent playing songs and dances of courtly intrigue. Rumor and gossip would never leave his lips, acting as a thread to bind events to display one’s skill in both their combat prowess and dedication to the arts taught from a young age. Forging alliances and gaining power through each connection to take down each rival who stood in opposition while never stepping foot on a battlefield, those were roles those who held power were expected to embody.
But Sukuna held no value in such expectations.
Their master showed no interest in correcting his son’s behavior. Never once did he prepare Uraume for anything beyond the lessons to teach their language, seeing practicality over the use such knowledge would provide in the long term. Sukuna would not use his belligerent son as a pawn to send off bearing his name. He did not seek to mold him into someone more suited for the role, as the role itself implied that he wished to engage in pompous displays and frivolous words when he could simply raise his hand and unleash his domain upon his foes instead.
Yuji was something of value to their master. His value in Uraume’s eyes had yet to be determined. Sukuna’s interest in the boy’s ability to spar with him and keep up with his attacks and the power behind them was the obvious answer. But, it was not the only answer.
To explain their conundrum, Uraume would point to these odd leniencies their master would give. Then, they would recall their master’s stunned reaction to the melodic tune carried by the wind from the garden, drawing his attention to sharpen at a fine point, ensuring that he did not miss a single note to follow. Uraume was gestured to follow, tip-toeing their way closer until they were standing right under Sukuna’s chin, gaze angled to catch the boy’s head poking out between the bush flowers as if he were a part of them.
Yuji was singing.
What began as a whisper to himself, then an energetic hum, soft words returned to the air accompanied only by the chorus in his own head. Nothing Yuji sang was consistent or gave the impression that it was complete, often fading out for a moment of recollection with a high chance of changing rhythm or level of energy when he began something new. Beautiful was an understatement, leaving Uraume taken aback by the surprise of this talent’s appearance. Despite not understanding the tongue with which he spoke, Uraume could admit to being struck with an impression of the emotions being carried. From slow, nostalgic longing to something more humorous and joyful as the boy emphasized a repeated sound on the beat, he kept track of with his palm on his thigh, the whole experience was a very personal one that neither master nor servant would intrude on once Sukuna gave the order to step away.
“Just when I believe I have discovered all there was to know, my brat surprises me.” Sukuna’s gesture would only amount to a few steps and the reluctant turn of his head to appear as if he was not paying the boy’s antics any mind. That did not stop a pleasant grin from appearing on his stomach’s mouth, finding far too much pride in a skill he did not even know existed until just moments before. “His words may grate on the ears after all his shouting, but this? He would be the envy of many if more ears were permitted to listen.”
Said ears would never make it to the garden’s edge, let alone the entrance to the estate, unless cut off and tossed onto the ground for trespassing on a moment their master would not share.
“The young master has many traits to be prideful in, and many more that are quite unique to him.”
Neither were traits Uraume could point to their master and declare sole responsibility for, such as the timeline for his son’s birth and subsequent use as a vessel, only to be stripped of the role in favor of another because less understood with each bit of information provided. There was a chance that Sukuna’s future counterpart hadn’t been present much of Yuji’s life, and if that were the case… It would be best for Uraume not to bring the possibility up unless directly asked.
“His shortcomings can be refined in time.”
“And the parts of him he will refuse to alter?”
“As long as they remain charming…” Their master let out a brief chuckle. “A bit of individuality prevents me from looking into a mirror.”
A mirror?
“Is that not what you want? Would a father not wish for his son to take after—”
“No.” Sukuna cut Uraume off, unexpectedly harsh, as his heavy tone implied the conversation was now over. He was on the verge of elaborating. His own unconscious physical reaction that had him slamming his fist on the foundation beneath him, shaking the building and sending tremors through the pond. Ripples signaled to his son that his perceived peace was at an end. Yuji skittered off after that, leaving both Uraume and Sukuna unsure. He realized they had been listening while his father soon took after in the opposite direction to busy himself elsewhere.
“My apologies.”
The subject was a testy one, and Uraume dropped it as a result.
Their master's reaction, however, remained with them.
Every few nights, Uraume once again found Yuji clinging to their master’s side. Not always so literally, but what would often begin as a silent evening of stargazing and listening to the sounds echoing through the mountains ended with Yuji asleep against the one being Uraume never would have thought to tolerate the intrusion until now.
These quiet moments remained divorced from the rest of the day. Any taunts spoken and insults thrown lost their meaning. Blows received in their physical altercations healed in silence as both were capable of the same miraculous feat the reverse cursed technique accomplished. While they always began apart, Uraume would pass by every so often to find the two closer together later. Just as it happened the very first night, Yuji would get close with his arms wrapped tight around himself in search of some kind of connection he wasn’t ready to truly embrace.
In time, Yuji voluntarily spoke, always in the language he was most familiar with. He did so unprompted. The subject was left unknown. Sukuna was either subjected to long rants that left him all riled up— some of which were directed specifically toward him if the repeated use of his name was any indication —or the bittersweet tales Yuji held of others in his memory. There were names intermixed amongst the confusing jumble of vocabulary. A few familiar surnames, including individuals from the big clans whom Yuji had no trouble speaking of without reverence or disdain. They were just people to him. Faces he knew, pieces of his history that he refused to properly share despite learning the means to do so.
Throughout these moments, never once did Sukuna interrupt him. Their master retained his silence, listening intensely as if he understood it all. He would later admit to liking the sound of his son’s voice. Hearing it animated, becoming more inclined to bounce around and allow his emotions to overcome his defiant behavior during the day, possessed an effect on their master that he could not explain with words.
All that mattered was that Sukuna remained cautious of the fact that he did not hate it.
His son was not the only one breaking up their routine, and Sukuna pushed his luck a bit further every time the boy’s words ran out and his body’s energy soon followed. At first, it was where he could place his hand. From the boy’s shoulder to his back and then his head. How much movement was too much? Could he poke and prod without waking him up? How long would it take before Yuji’s body was nothing more than dead weight to be picked up and carried to a more suitable location?
The answers were interesting enough to follow as discovered. Originally, Sukuna would bring his son back to his quarters midway through the night. Overtime, that changed to Sukuna returning to his own bed, placing Yuji at his side, forcing nothing more beyond framing the boy’s sleeping body with one of his lower arms. One would be forgiven to think it was a protective gesture to keep Yuji from rolling off the platform that held their master’s bed. In reality, Uraume saw through the act as Sukuna slept with at least one eye open, perhaps hoping for the limb to be grabbed in the night.
Was this hope for an assassination attempt?
With how often Sukuna antagonized the boy, expecting him to retaliate after being forced into a more vulnerable position only made sense. What Sukuna did not account for was how his son, so used to being surrounded by others, craved their physical touch even in his sleep. Yuji would not reach out to strike Sukuna during a perceived advantageous moment. He would reach out, drowsy and no longer present for his father’s arm, and latch on with his ear pressed against the skin. Uraume wondered if it was the heartbeat that brought comfort.
Again, their master did not know how to react. He’d handed Yuji an opportune moment, and he was disarmed, but not in the way he expected. Disappointment did not take over despite the strange results. Instead, the curse let the boy be, allowing him to sleep until the sun rose, and it was once again time for him to rush off and pretend nothing of the sort occurred.
Uraume knew confronting their master about the time they shared would result in reprimand, but they could not understand what drove those two to be so close yet so apart. It was not their place to judge or get involved.
But…
Yuji was the easiest of the two to ask. Uraume could allow their questions to slip during their lessons when Sukuna begrudgingly kept his distance, knowing his presence was a distraction. They would respect the boy’s choice to refrain from answering. Obviously , yet any time the opportunity presented itself, Uraume could not bring them to defy their master and ask.
It was not until they crossed paths with their master’s son in the first rays of dawn as he snuck back to his quarters that he stopped a few steps after their eyes met. He’d already passed Uraume by this point, but he must have seen just how much their curiosity burned behind their otherwise calm and unmoving face.
“He…” Yuji began, only to cut himself off. Take a breath. Try again, and then repeat the process before shaking his head and groaning in frustration. “I hate him. Even... Feel same. Not same.”
His words were failing him. What he knew to express did encapsulate all there was to say, forcing him to fill in with phrases he knew, aware that Uraume could not follow. Tears flowed down his face, dripping one intrusive bead at a time before Yuji called up his sleeve in his hand and smeared his cheeks with it.
“Why am I here?”
“You do not know?” Uraume tilted their head, confirming that this boy had arrived with no particular intentions in mind. Kenjaku had theorized his arrival to be an accident, which meant Yuji really had appeared with no means of how to return home. “Sukuna-sama wishes for you to stay. As for why… you are his son.”
“Vessel, Not son.” The boy hissed as he flung his fist away from him to swipe at the air. “Empty, useless— Why care now!?”
“Useless?” If the boy had truly not possessed cursed energy of his own upon his birth, then it was Sukuna’s cursed energy he held. Energy that had distorted and evolved to intermix with his own fighting spirit, bowing to his whim. That very energy would not be present without taking Sukuna in, without becoming a vessel, and if the events their master described were true… “You awakened Sukuna-sama. You fulfilled your duty. If you were truly useless, Sukuna-sama would not permit you to live. Sukuna-sama does not keep useless things.”
“I…”
“If your Sukuna-sama discarded you, then he is certainly not the master I serve now. Something is amiss.” Strong attachments to material things, whether people or objects, were not something Uraume knew Sukuna for. Their status quo, however, had changed. Yuji’s presence was an exception. To rescind that exception after centuries of meeting him and knowing where his son had ended up… The Sukuna of Yuji’s time and theirs were not the same. Thus, Uraume fully turned to face the boy and approached him so that he did not have to lift his head to meet their gaze. “You are no longer a vessel. You have been claimed as my master's son. Accept it and fulfill the new role that is better suited for you.”
Their words received a weak nod. Uraume was unsure if Yuji understood everything they had said, but the pair could also go over the statement later to reinforce its meaning when emotions steadied. Until then, Uraume would stand in silence, allowing the boy time to process whatever he had taken in before deciding on how to best move forward.
“Should I retrieve Sukuna-sama?”
“No.” Yuji continued to stand in place, showing no interest in moving from his spot. The red on his face was a mix of confusion and embarrassment for his struggle to keep a consistent breath. Leaving him here, in this state, was not an option. And so, Uraume offered another solution to prompt him to move.
“Shall we make our morning meal?”
The small rumble from the boy’s stomach answered for him, only serving to make his face grow even brighter.
“Hungry…” He whispered, prompting Uraume to begin ushering him toward the kitchen.
“I will take that as a yes.”
Suspicion came with every new outfit gifted to the boy by his father. Content to wear the same few articles of clothing, always drifting to the garbs he was found in rather than anything else provided, made it difficult to make the boy try new things. There was no way to confidently know if his original clothes were common wear or something considered ‘nice’ for a specific occasion. Uraume prayed it was the latter, as they weren’t keen on how they appeared or felt in comparison to the soft silks and other luxury materials worth the use of such lofty and expensive dyes. Besides, Yuji looked far better in the clothes of this era than his own. As they looked upon the boy who reluctantly followed their instructions that morning, this was a fact they would not be disputed in.
Red really was a good color for him. The deeper shade of crimson by the ankles faded into a pale pink, ending with the faintest of white by the hips of his kukuri-bakama underneath the white outer shell of his robes. Over his chest was a suikan to compliment the colors by continuing the white crawling up his body and over his head with the eventual koromo wo kazuku, a veil just thin enough to tease the features it hid, draped over his head. The forbidden red would return in the embroidery, as well as in the circular kikutoji decorations made of silk alongside a bit of black to share what little color Sukuna wore beyond the white he preferred. To round out the look, geta had been offered for his feet, with those footwear being the only item the boy could put on himself without the need for assistance. He’d done so hastily and with little care for them, as his mind was already charging down the stairs and toward the estate’s main hall, where his father was waiting for him.
If Sukuna were to be equated to a King amongst curses, then it only made sense his son would be their prince.
Normally, Yuji would not endure a game of dress-up. All it took was the promise of something new, something to stimulate his eyes beyond his home after every corner of the estate had been explored at his leisure, to avoid any protest beyond the looks of unease Uraume faced when introducing each new item and how to wear it.
Today was a special occasion.
Niiname-no-Matsuri.
The last offering before winter was to be presented to their master before the day’s end. Ryomen Sukuna was to be worshiped as God amongst mortals, benevolent in his decision to resume casting his gaze toward the sorcerers beyond his border should their gifts of food and entertainment prove sufficient. In an ironic fashion, the first of the traitorous clans who bowed to their master’s name would be the ones to host this festival in place of the emperor who shirked his sacred duty to thank every deity for their land’s bounty this past season.
As tempting as it was to address the grave insult the capital repeats every year, Sukuna would refrain for one more season. His attention had fallen to his son, bouncing around with excitement he failed to hide, as the poor thing couldn’t keep his headdress from slipping as he eagerly wandered outside of the estate’s grounds without anyone to stop him. A watchful eye from both master and servant alike prevented him from running off completely, but walking ahead of them or stopping to observe a landmark that caught his attention was reasonable permission to bestow so long as he remained within a certain distance they had established before their departure.
Good behavior was rewarded, and anything less was dealt with accordingly. It was only when puddles of rainwater and thick mud flooded parts of their path that Sukuna called toward the boy.
“Brat, come here.”
When Yuji did not answer him, he trudged over, grabbed his son by the waist, and tore him off the ground.
“Let go!”
A hiss came out in protest, along with a flurry of swipes and kicks that ultimately went nowhere. The boy was apprehended before any damage could be done to his robes, forced to endure being carried the rest of what remained in their journey either over their master’s shoulder or more comfortably in a sitting position within his father’s arms. One way carried more dignity than the other, thus the amount of arguing was kept to a minimum once Sukuna threatened to rescind his offer of choice and the boy remained quiet and cooperative as a result.
“Ungrateful. Either pick which way you are held, or I lift you up by the ankle, and you can dangle like that until the day’s end.”
Yuji’s dislike, however, remained clear with his arms crossed and pouting face, which would soon be hidden from view once his headdress was pulled over his face and he was told to keep it there. There was no need for Uraume to announce Sukuna’s arrival, as the oppressive energy in the air spoke for itself.
Gasps of surprised and horrified whispers of outlandish rumors amongst the nobility to explain the appearance of another beyond Sukuna’s most faithful filled their ears despite their attempts to hide it behind raised sleeves and waving fans. Their master’s lack of tolerance toward hosting other servants in preference for solitude and his tendency to shun visitors from staying overnight regardless of circumstance kept their curiosity growing. Who was the hidden one in his arms? Were they a hostage? Or are they another one to be thought of as divine? A lover—
Sukuna did nothing to quell the minor lords and their gossip, finding amusement in their inability to divine the truth of his son’s origins amongst themselves. He allowed them to work themselves up into a frenzy, only bringing their words to an end once he took his place upon the stage erected in his honor and sat above the sea of bowing heads. Crossed legs supported the boy on his knee. Flustered and full of regret for allowing himself to be brought here, Yuji lowered his head and attempted to recoil out of sight, only for his father to grab him by the chin to force his posture to straighten as he was presented to those whose loyalty earned them the right to witness his existence in person.
“This is my son, the little songbird I have kept hidden from the world until the proper moment…” Sukuna announced his son to them, keeping the boy’s name a closely guarded secret. Describing him as a songbird led to Yuji growling through his teeth. He once again fought to turn away from the gathered audience, but Sukuna would not let him. The ceremony would be endured. “Disrespect will not be tolerated.”
The order was for all of those with ears capable of listening. Once his introduction was out of the way, Sukuna moved his son off his lap and by his left side while Uraume stood over both of them on his right. Every once in a while, Yuji would be caught scooting back a little in a fruitless effort to hide behind his father from those bowing in gratitude for his benign demeanor, but he would never succeed as Sukuna would often glare in his direction at least one eye to keep him in place. Beyond that, the boy’s protest ended there, well aware of Sukuna’s ability to overwhelm him should a fight break out here and now.
They begin the festival with Naorai, a communion between parties in which they share the same sake and eat the same meal before further offerings are brought out to Sukuna from every clan leader present. Yuji, naturally, was given some, and his previous reaction to the drink remained the same. What festivities followed were deviations from the typical ceremony, including entertainment of dance and skill between sworn oaths of continued loyalty. Offerings for Sukuna’s son were quickly thought up on the spot as well, something their master took great pleasure in seeing how the minor lords would scatter in search of something to avoid ignoring the boy who had been brought out from his seclusion.
Yuji did not know how to react to this. The ceremony, the bowing and reverence, the close proximity to his father for a long period of time— All of it was foreign to him. Whether it was bewilderment or annoyance, his veil kept their worshipers from gleaming nothing more than a hint of what his reactions may be. As long as he showed vague interest in the items presented, all was well, until one lord thought he would outdo the rest by approaching their master with a young woman in tow.
That young woman was his daughter. She was not the one to present the offering to Sukuna, but was to be the offering presented. Uraume had not caught the lord’s name, only finding interest in the offering once they realized that his daughter was not being presented for Sukuna to do as he pleased but to their master to assess and accept her as an adequate candidate to be his son’s wife. If not a wife, then a mistress should Yuji have one already or even a lowly concubine. Desperation underlied the ego on display. Too proud of himself for coming up with an ‘ingenious’ way to outdo the other nobles and gain favor, he did not notice the anger slowly seeping into the edges of Sukuna’s gaze for his audacity. The only one who noticed this shift aside from Uraume was Yuji, who had visibly tensed as a result.
“How dare you—” Sukuna began, addressing the man with contempt born of his own possessive desire to further share any of his son’s attention. A potential marriage would rip the boy away from him, as tradition expected. And even if Sukuna were to demand otherwise, the thought of another appearing so soon… “—presume that your offspring is good enough to wed mine?”
Without further thought, their master lifted his hand and swiped two fingers through the air. He had painted an invisible blade to strike them both down. What he had not anticipated was the lightning-fast movement of his own son, bolting from his seat to stand in between the pair and the attack intended to tear them in two.
Yuji had raised his fists in the air. There was purpose in how far and wide, just as his feet were angled beneath him in a particular stance as he braced for his father’s attack. Cursed Energy encircled him and the two he’d sought to protect with a single breath, creating an effect akin to that of a domain, but far too unorthodox for Uraume to proclaim so quickly to be so.
There was no mudra. No release of one’s will to encapsulate a piece of the world. The barrier they had witnessed only marked the edge of where the boy’s cursed energy had pooled, coating all three in an aura that did not falter.
The attack, which had already been in motion, struck the group. Wind picked up as a result of the incoming blade clashing with the unseen barrier, leaving Yuji and the two he stepped in to save with nothing but the faintest of cuts in their skin. Beads of blood pooled at the surface of the boy’s wounds while neither the lord nor his daughter sported any injury beyond the faint red line already on the mend. Only after the two had registered Yuji’s move to their defense did the lord embrace his weeping daughter. They fell to their knees, begging for forgiveness while the veil that kept Yuji’s appearance hidden had been cast off in the wind, leaving the rest of the crowd speechless to the cherry-blossom hair and superior feat of Jujutsu that proved the boy to be Sukuna’s progeny.
“Brat.”
Sukuna leaned into his palm as he leaned closer, threatening to stand and face him right here, in front of his very crowd.
There were stories of a secret art within the three major clans that countered a domain expansion. Others boasted the creation of other anti-domain techniques, though nothing beyond pathetic turtling in the wake of an attack had been created. In the case of Yuji, whatever technique that the boy had activated remained active even as he shifted his stance and readied himself in expectation of a response to his defiance.
The only way for Yuji to possess Blood Manipulation was for him to be born with it. The Kamo Clan’s prized technique was an innate one. One cannot be born with multiple techniques. The human body possessed limitations, and nothing about the boy suggested that he could have stored this ability elsewhere, meaning whatever this cursed technique was, it was something to be learned.
Sukuna understood this. His own intrigue and excitement at having stripped another layer of secrets away from his son brought a grin to his face when there would normally be one. It was not just the reveal of a new technique, but the circumstances from which it was brought out: His son was acting to protect the lives of others beyond himself.
He possessed sympathy, a trait neither parent could claim to have.
No wonder Yuji held so much disdain for his father. While they were similar in so many ways, one fundamental difference always kept them at odds, and now Uraume understood what that was.
“Sukuna.”
Notes:
ლ( ╥ ᴗ ╥ )ლ I had such a long and taxing week. I'm so happy to finally post this and recover.
Notes:
-Sukuna's hypocrisy was far too fun of a framing device for this section of the chapter. He really isn't beating the deadbeat dad allegations who only came back because his kid was now interesting and he wants to be a part of it. XD
-The named gifts Sukuna gives Yuji are the following:
Shells for Kai-awasa - In the Heian Era, poems would be composed based on the shells. (ex. shape, size, color, etc) in a bit of competition to see who could do it better. Sukuna, harboring information regarding poetry and poetry being a major form of art in this era made me think he would want to engage with Yuji this way, but Yuji doesn't have the language base or interest to do so.
Soft Ball for Kemari - Kemari is played similar to a game of hacky sack where you try to keep the ball from touching the ground.
A Bow for Kyudo - Kyudo is the Japanese martial art of archery and another skill that was taught, practice, and utilized in the Heian era.
Ban-Sugoroku - A gambling board game thought to have been brought over from China. Yuji has a liking for pachinko, which is another luck-based game, hence its inclusion.
All gifts presented to Yuji are based on Heian Era entertainment for Nobility. My thought is that Sukuna is meeting him in the middle here, providing things to do beyond the fighting Sukuna craves.
-Yuji is said to be a good singer. He's probably singing anime openings and endings that he's familiar with. I wonder which one Sukuna would take a liking to the most? He had no idea what the words are, which would make Yuji so confused why Sukuna wants him to repeat it! Haha.
-Yuji is still very lonely. He needs comfort and Sukuna is this familiarity he can't seem to fully separate from. Sukuna, meanwhile, is fighting this strange need to be close and form a connection with someone while also cultivating an equal he can engage with.
-Yuji's attire before the Autumn Harvest Festival is based on the "Young boy of the upper class in everyday wear" shown in the Tale of Genji Costume Museum.
https://www.iz2.or.jp/english/fukusyoku/wayou/33.htm
I really like this website for visual reference, If you click on the explanation button, there is a more detailed breakdown of the outfit shown.
-Niiname-no-Matsuri is the Japanese Harvest Festival, and it is supposed to be celebrated by the emperor of Japan by giving thanks to the Shinto deities for a bountiful harvest. Obviously, the emperor is not present here, as I've taken some liberties into interjecting my own speculative timeline for Sukuna's history. I based the festival and the scene of worship flashback shown during Sukuna's fight with Yorozu, though it would take place well before that fateful meeting.
-Sukuna's issues with Yuji potentially getting married is funny to me. In the Heian Era, the man is expected to move in with the wife's family. This would mean that Yuji would be 'lost' to him, and while Sukuna could forgo tradition, the very suggestion of just anyone being offered to Yuji offends him. It's also amusing how quickly Yuji defends them. While he does so on principle, neither Uraume nor Sukuna know for sure that Yuji had the full context for what was going on in front of him.
-More Yuji abilities! I'll be sure to show off Shrine... eventually. Hehe. The simple domain was said to be invented during the Heian Era by Sadatsuna Ashiya as a domain for the weak. I am unsure if Yuji is sworn to secrecy regarding the teaching of it (and if I want to enforce that) + I do not know exactly when the domain was created, so Yuji could either be showcasing it before its inception or using it after it was created, and he just outed one of the Heian Era's biggest CT secrets. o.oAlright! That should about do it!
I'm very tired, and my head hurts, so I'm going to rest and make any necessary edits in the morning!
Thank you all for reading! I'm going to take a small break from this fic to work on another, but I shall be back with this one soon! I am hesitant to say I've decided on 6 chapters, but again, I cannot guarantee anything. OOP.
Chapter Text
Uraume kept their position, feet light in anticipation should another stance be required, their expression unmoving to avoid betraying this fact. They observed the public act of defiance committed by their master’s son with concern. Not for Sukuna’s life— never did Uraume carry doubt in their master’s success in any battle —and certainly not for the safety of the minor nobles debating between holding their position or a cowardice retreat. This unwelcome worry that had unexpectedly gathered in the servant’s throat was for what would come after this quarrel ceased and the dust settled. Consequences followed every action, and neither party was immune.
Initially undeterred, Yuji stared up at his father from below with barred fangs, prepared for retribution that had yet to be carried out. The boy had opposed the herald of calamity without hesitation for two foolish nobles who were no more than strangers to him. Their crime was clear, and their punishment had been rather kind considering the weight of their insult, yet that did not matter. Whether Yuji had understood their intention or not, whether this act of defiance was that of sudden love or a deeper, more ingrained problem would be investigated afterward. If a similar challenge had been pulled within the confines of the estate, the boy’s punishment would lead to a no different outcome than that if his father had forced another sparring match. But in the midst of a festival with a sea of witnesses… Their master continued to draw out his response and the necessary discipline to match it.
Every moment that passed further heightened the rising tide of tension. With so many afraid to take a single breath amongst the harrowing silence of their peers, it would be of no surprise that one was more likely to pass out than endure for too much longer. The boy held out as long as he could, his stare unbroken, until something within his chest stirred. The quivering breaths of the two he had stepped in to save had reached his ears.
One look back was all it took to break his stance, his body recoiling as the realization of what would happen should a fight between them entail. Confidence to challenge a God amongst men wavered. While the boy could hold his own against his father, the former fought with whatever means necessary to keep up, while the latter simply held no care for the surrounding landscape of their would-be arena. If the pair were to come to blows now, the chances of others becoming caught in their crossfire were practically guaranteed. He may be interesting enough and strong in his own right to wager his own life when engaging with his father, but the lives of others? None held the same value as he.
Upon understanding that, the boy reluctantly lowered his fists, and his hands went limp to his side. His eyes fell as well, turning to the ground in a fit of self-loathing before once again beseeching his father to let the noble and his daughter go. Yuji’s feet still refused to yield. His back had remained straight as well. But neither was enough to counter the disappointment in Sukuna’s eyes.
Nor the anger that followed.
As tame as their master’s expression appeared, any attempt at submission now would be met with fury. There would be no forgetting this moment. For his own son to back down from following through, for that tantalizing spark of rage to diminish at the sight of a few sniveling humans— The sympathy that had propelled him into action now stalled his next move. It was a shameful display. Such a tactic was worthless against a being such as him.
Would Yuji go so far as to bow his head and beg?
Uraume doubted it. At least, not yet. Not until it was ordered of him and his head was forced into the dirt should he once again find it in himself to refuse. The boy would not be the one to dictate his father’s wishes.
No one dictated Ryomen Sukuna’s actions beyond himself.
To bring the King of Curses to stand amidst a festival in his honor was a sin. A grave mistake that further made itself known with each step their master took. The distance between himself and his rebellious son continued to close until the boy’s face felt the breath of the second mouth on Sukuna’s stomach. His son attempted to pay it no mind. His body wished to flinch, but he would not let it. All focus went into his stare, even when Sukuna reached for Yuji’s collar. Amusement came on their master’s end when he realized just how perfect his fingers wrapped around the boy’s neck.
In contrast to expectations, their master’s hold was gentle. No words were added to acknowledge his threat, allowing his son to piece together what would happen next should he fail to think and answer flippantly.
“Where did your earlier bravado go?” Their master demanded an answer, refusing to believe that this was all his son was capable of. That his son would become so meek in front of another. Such weakness was disgraceful. “You wished to spare them from my judgment? You? The boy whose existence stems from mine, not the other way around?”
Sukuna slid his thumb over the boy's chin, shoving his head back without care for how his neck would bend. Their master wished for Yuji to see the two he chose over his father’s respect. Two foolish souls who could do nothing but wait for the giants standing above to decide whether they should live or die. “Perhaps I was hasty in only punishing the two who acted on such an audacious gift. Surely, there are others within the crowd who are ready to throw their daughters at your feet. Are you that eager to leave? No, do you even know what they had offered?”
Uraume still did not know the answer to that. The boy’s face was hard to read. Always so full of disdain, it was not so much as regret that had seeped its way in, but irritation at himself for allowing events to unfold as they had. If he had considered this outcome and held his tongue, there would be no need for public beratement.
Sukuna leaned in, speaking first with the stomach mouth as a reminder of how close the larger maw was and how easily it could remove a limb, let alone the boy’s head if he interrupted.
“A lesson is in order for you and the whelps observing us both.” From a lowered, more private exchange to something loud and commanding, their master straightened himself before turning his head to physically address the greater crowd. “Either I kill the wretch at your feet or every daughter of every noble here. I am not known for my generosity, but I would like to believe the faith I hold in this pathetic flock to learn from the mistakes of their peers would be enough to sink the message in.”
Those behind the boy gasped. Individually, their breaths were near silent, but as a collective, hysteria bred with ease.
An attempt to escape their master’s grasp had crossed the boy’s eyes, but he did not act on it. He remained as still as he could be, seething under his skin. Enough of their master’s words had gotten through to him, but Sukuna would not permit any chance for an excuse of miscommunication. Slowly and clearly, Sukuna reiterated the choice his son must make.
“One will die, or they all will.” Their master further turned the boy’s head, now with another hand clutching his head, to ensure that he faced the crowd behind him. “Can your little trick protect them all? We both know it cannot, so I expect you to answer quickly.”
The guilt that came with acknowledging such a truth ate through the boy. Uraume found him fortunate that those whose lives hung on his answers had kept their foreheads pressed against the grounds and their words bound tight in their chests. Yuji’s heart would not have to look them in the eyes, save for all but one: The daughter who had been thrust haphazardly toward his feet.
“I won’t.”
Yuji dared to refuse.
“You will.”
Sukuna would not allow it.
“I can’t.”
“You must. You should be grateful I am deferring to you at all.”
Gratitude. Uraume agreed with their master’s sentiments, knowing the boy loathed every moment of it. If his understanding could not be achieved now, then certainly later upon reflection. The thinner Sukuna’s patience grew, the more he would take as payment for wasting his time. Yuji needed to accept that there was no wriggling out of this. No amount of pleading, not even a desperate glance in Uraume’s direction, would prompt them to interfere, nor would their input alter the course of today’s events.
“The next word you speak better be an answer.”
Yuji opened his mouth. Then, he sought to close it. His lips did not stray too far apart when he opened them again. He truly gave the decision thought, pondering as time continued to flee from his grasp. The girl beneath him risked raising her head, already accepting that there was no outcome from which she would benefit. It was about time the boy understood that.
“One life. One daughter. No more.” Barely above a whisper, Yuji’s voice broke through self-imposed restraints to give his answer. Speaking in this matter would not appease Sukuna in the slightest. Far more insulting than his earlier attempt to reel back from a fight, the only thing that kept their master’s disappointment from furthering was the two words his son croaked out soon after. “Please… Father.”
Appealing to their master’s claim was not what Uraume had expected. Perhaps he’d known Sukuna’s penchant for additional cruelty. His tendency to wrap strings around the necks of his toys and pull without remorse. Only when the string snapped did the game end. Rather than punish the boy for his insolence, their master found a reason to loosen his grip, if only but a tad.
Sukuna raised an eyebrow at hearing the boy utter a word he’d refused for so long. Before the thought could linger, attention shifted to the meaning behind his son’s choice. He had gained confirmation that any attachment there could possibly be with the offered girl was not strong enough to override whatever moral duty he wished to uphold. Others would not pay for her father’s folly. And on the opposite end, this girl was not enough to spur the boy into risking it all for the slightest possibility of success.
Truly, he had acted out of an instinct alien to his father and nothing more.
With his answer came Sukuna’s threat to follow through. His grip on his son’s hair tightened, as did his hold around the boy’s neck to keep him in place as Dismantle shredded through the intended offering’s robes and down into her skin. Her body was completely mutilated thereafter, and the brutal display collapsed into a bloody mess that would linger in the eyes of all and sear into their memory should another follow in her father’s footsteps.
“Clean that up, then make yourself scarce. You do not want me to look upon your face again.”
That was all their master ordered as he dragged his boy back onto the stage. The daughter’s father, the catalyst for today’s lesson, had been unwittingly spared. But the pain he’ll have to live with from his loss… Uraume wondered whose heart held a greater burden. Yuji had shut his eyes at this point, only allowing himself to be led as he knew not where to go nor if he could afford another outburst— Who would become the next life wagered should he scream and curse until his lungs gave out and he collapsed, unable to hold himself up?
“It is by my foolish brat’s decision that the rest of you continue to breathe the same air as I. Offer your thanks quickly so we may wrap up this pathetic masquerade.”
Their lives would not have been in immediate danger if Yuji hadn’t acted in the first place. Yet, no one could say for certain that one noble or another would not have risked drawing Sukuna’s anger eventually if the previous father-daughter pair had not. Regardless of either thought, the minor lords did as they were told.
Once Yuji had been shoved back into place, one hand of his father’s remained either on his shoulder or just close enough in the space between them to be a warning for the rest of the festival. Silence had overtaken the boy once more, stitching his mouth shut and preventing any further interruption while the rest of the nobles cast away all ambition and spirit.
Uraume recalled that morning’s talk between master and servant. Revealing the existence of his son had been the highlight of Sukuna’s plans. He would ingrain Yuji’s existence beside his own, and now, with his face revealed, there would be no ambiguity or question on whether the claim held true. A desire for his son to sing had also been under consideration. An aspect to boast about as the boy fell short in basic pleasantries or poise. Now, however, no such performance would take place.
The mood had plummeted beyond repair, and these woeful nobles were undeserving. Ordering the boy to sing now that proper leverage had been established would certainly be possible, but Sukuna refused to reward the audience with anything but his lack of hostility. It was by one man’s idiocy that he discovered both interesting and infuriating things about the boy at his side. The latter had certainly taken a toll on both master and son alike.
Occasionally, Uraume would look at Yuji and assess his condition. Physically, he was fine. But anything under the surface was difficult to discern, especially when he caught their gaze and shifted his face out of sight.
A lesson in authority and respect was bound to happen, and Yuji must know his father enough to have expected this type of behavior from him. There was no surprise in his cruelty, only hatred for having to once again confront it firsthand. That did not mean the relationship their master had sought to forge between them would not worsen as a result of today’s affair. Uraume may no longer be the exception to this revitalized animosity either— They did not know how to feel about that.
While a cruel offer of choice may be Sukuna’s method of dismantling him before rebuilding and refining to something more suitable, previous stubbornness may prove to be a difficult pattern to break.
The trip home was somber and quiet. None of the previous energy nor excitement at the sights had carried over from their first pass through, as their master’s son had been the one embodying that lost sense of wonder.
Yuji had become more distant than usual. His mind behind a barrier while his body could only use the space between him and his father to keep himself sane. Not once did he raise his head, using the tracks Sukuna and Uraume made to guide his steps, always careful not to lag too far behind in fear that it would prompt his father to outwardly acknowledge his change in behavior.
While their master would not give his son the satisfaction of seeing his reaction deepen, Uraume knew that Sukuna was still far from pleased with how the festival had played out. His expression may not change and his demeanor would remain mighty, there was just enough off in his movements that had given him away. A slight slouch in Sukuna’s shoulders or the tightness of his fingers within his lower left hand. Every third or fourth step, his right foot would hit the ground just a bit harder than before. Years standing by the side of one person would only naturally train the eye to pick these things up, and they only grew worse when all three paused after crossing into the grounds of the estate.
Neither father nor son met each other in the eye. When the moment passed, and Sukuna had not spoken a word to him, Yuji used that as permission to flee through the garden and out of sight. Uraume assumed he would return to his quarters, finding it unreasonable that he would wait until entering the estate to then run off its grounds once more.
Once the boy was out of earshot and three became two, Uraume’s ear caught the sound of a deep and tired groan. When they returned to face the direction of their master, a hand had covered Sukuna’s eyes while the two lower arms crossed themselves in front of his chest.
“This must be a cruel joke.” The mouth trapped behind them wasn’t too keen on the position of Sukuna’s arms. First, a simple grimace is displayed, followed by a stuck-out tongue. “His laughter has not ceased since the boy’s rebellious stunt.”
“Whose laughter?”
“You know who.” Sukuna avoided Kenjaku’s name as he was bound to appear before them should it be repeated one too many times. Said laughter was only an echo of a memory, yet now Uraume could hear it just as clearly. A headache would soon follow. “A hero complex, of all things!”
Sukuna was the one who had wished for a son unlike himself.
“It was unexpected.”
“How could he become like this? For what reason?”
Uraume had attempted to match their master’s reaction, nodding and sharing in Sukuna’s confusion as he finally threw bewildered hands into the air.
“The brat’s heart bleeds like any other. Only, he chooses to let it bleed for another— Is it a sense of duty? A moral high ground that had been practically instilled into him since birth? Or did he adopt such values simply out of his own spite?”
“It appears far too genuine to simply be spite, then again—”
“And that presumptuous buffoon offering marriage!” Sukuna cut Uraume off, the need to speak his mind superseding the desire for input. “The moment I reveal his existence he becomes nothing more than a prop to them. What need does he have for a wife?”
Considering that their master did not intend to use him for political ties or economic agreements, then all that was left was for the purpose of bearing an heir and continuing their bloodline. A clan could be born from Sukuna’s influence. One of many generations and branches should proper steps be taken. Yet, father and son could barely stand each other at all. Adding any more members would not fix that. And the possessiveness Sukuna has shown over his boy would make any related plans all the highly improbable and much more complicated.
“I had half a mind to put an end to this game of worship and slaughter them all.”
“But you did not.” Uraume knew they were prying with their next comment, but reiterating what had happened was not nearly as dangerous as simply asking why? “Your son asked you not to.”
“Consider it a reward for correcting his atrocious behavior. Even after that lapse in judgment…” Now lamenting, Sukuna did what he could to keep his composure stable. His son had once again unwound him. “I was given such a delicious sample of something new, only for the brat to falter. Now, there is a poor taste in my mouth. Disgusting.”
“The technique he displayed was not from the great clans.” Playing into his interest, Uraume shifted focus from disappointment to determination. “There is a possibility that it may be self-taught. Along with a noticeable expertise in asynchronous control of one’s body and cursed energy, his adaptability follows in your footsteps. If his confidence had remained…”
“That stunt endured through my technique. Similar to a domain expansion, but lacking in the same hand signs or cursed energy output… What other applications are there for it? How would it hold to a proper domain? I have yet to open mine with him, but it may be pertinent to try.” Their master’s mood recovered, albeit slightly, upon introducing theory and speculation. There was an adoration that came with uncovering new challenges in the realm of sorcery. Yuji has been a bastion of fresh air in this regard. “He will divulge his secrets when the topic comes around again. That brat will also provide further insight into how sorcery had evolved in his era once he can articulate it in detail. I may no longer hold interest in humoring Kenjaku’s plans, but that will not stop me from gleaning what I am able.”
“His ability to communicate improves each day even if he does not show it. He understood the skill to be an essential one.”
“I expected nothing less.” The good news was supposed to continue raising Sukuna’s spirits, yet this new mood did not last long. Their master turned to the ground in contemplation. Once again, Sukuna appeared disappointed. “Blood Manipulation and now that unnamed technique…”
Uraume took a step closer, tilting their head just enough to end up in his field of view. If anyone else were to do this, say, a certain brain with a knack for swapping faces, they would be thrown out of his personal space with expensive force. Uraume, however, was not just ‘anyone’ else. There was pride to be had in that.
“Is something wrong, Sukuna-sama?”
Their master closed his eyes and let out a huff.
“Why not Shrine? One would think…” Before he could continue, Sukuna shook his head. He found little use in complaining about something that could not be changed, though that would not stop the truth from bothering him. “Nevermind. It is a pointless thing to be upset with.”
Yet Sukuna would not let this topic go.
Since their return, Yuji’s refusal to leave his personal quarters had doubled, if not tripled in intensity. The boy had become more combative when spoken to, even when his father was nowhere close enough to hear him. It was expected that he would not seek out Sukuna’s presence on the first night. Their evening talks, as divorced as they were from the ongoings of the day, were not wholly immune to the events that preceded them.
The next day was also a gracious gift to the boy to do with as he pleased. Intended for self-reflection while Sukuna chose to contemplate on his own, what should have led to a moment of apology or possibly acceptance had failed dramatically. Uraume did not think the boy would admit he was wrong. He carried little respect for his father as it was, why would he harbor any now? And come evening, Yuji had still not shown his face. Not once. Not even in the garden or on the training grounds. His absence in the evening was predictable by that alone.
There was a chance their master had harbored some hope to the contrary, which would explain his anger on the second morning and the new decree that followed. Uraume had just served their master’s morning meal. With everything laid out, yet no boy in the seat, it was assumed that they would bring him the cold remains when their master had finished.
But today, that would change.
“If the brat wishes to eat, he will come out and do so with me or starve. Is that clear?” To further enforce his decision, Sukuna began to reach over to his son’s meal and take whatever he wished from it for himself. The second mouth on his stomach made quick work of it, as his appetite knew no limits.
“This excessive pouting is pathetic. Unbecoming. One random girl should not hold that much effect over him.” Their master had grown tired of Yuji’s relapse in behavior. All progress between them may as well never have occurred. “The least he could do is respond to my actions in kind. Violence is a universal language.”
It was this game of waiting for a reaction that irritated their master the most. The lack of interaction made him yearn for it more, yet neither son nor father would be the first to break this stalemate between them.
“He does not wish to speak to you in any language.”
The truth had earned them a deathly glare from their master’s secondary set of eyes.
“I am aware.”
What Sukuna seemingly did not know was that the boy would eventually leave his room. In the dead of night, when clouds overtook the moon, Yuji snuck into the kitchen to take whatever he thought would not be missed come morning. What he did not anticipate was for Uraume to be awake and doing their nightly rounds. Once every other night, they stalked the estate’s grounds to keep any suspicious activity noted, and then they dealt with it as they saw fit. But, even if they had not caught sight of the boy skittering about while clinging from wall to wall in an attempt to be stealthy, their meticulous record of inventory would have revealed a thief among them the following day.
It was on Yuji’s way back with a couple of dried fruits and a bundle of nuts in his hands that their paths converged. In the shadows of the estate, their eyes met, the boy’s frantic panic and clashing with the simple acknowledgment of his presence and nothing more.
He looked about, ready to say something. Lips quivered about. His grip on his stolen things had tightened while his stance straightened as if there was something else far more serious to address on top of his daring stunt. But nothing came of it. Uraume had already turned their attention elsewhere and began walking down another hall. If their master were to mention something about their encounter, Uraume would dutifully inform him what had happened. If not, then there was no reason to bring it up.
This was the one mercy they would grant.
As a consequence of this behavior, sneaking about had granted Yuji the means to protest longer. If he was starving himself to do so from their master’s point of view, Sukuna showed no concern. By the cursed energy they could both sense from the northern pavilion, the boy was still alive, and that was all that mattered. Sukuna had said as such. But, even he had a breaking point, and after two more days had come and gone, their master had enough and declared it was time to drag the boy by his neck and throw him down the pavilion’s stairs himself.
That morning’s meal hadn’t been touched. Truly, their master’s tolerance dissipated entirely. All that remained was the livid expression he worked tirelessly to quell upon reaching the entrance to his son’s quarters. It was a simple matter of rolling back the shoji screen that stood between the boy and himself. Self-control was required to prevent any property damage when doing so. Not out of the inability to afford repairs, but the unwillingness to show how much his son’s refusal to appear before him had an effect. Such behavior was highly out of character, but everything regarding Yuji seemed to have that effect.
Uraume could not know what Sukuna had expected to find his son doing. If he had thought him weak from hunger, then the sight of his body strewn about on the floor of his quarters should not have been all too surprising. But what neither of them could have anticipated was flush on the boy’s cheeks and the concerning number of earthenware pots that were once filled with unique and expensive sake left to roll about around him as his father’s steps shook the floor.
“What is the meaning of this!?”
Yuji took one dazed look at his father, struggling to raise his hand only to point with his mouth hung open. No words came out. The sound he produced in mockery of a word had slurred beyond comprehension. Whatever it was, it made him smile as a result.
“How much have you—” Sukuna lifted the empty pot, about to roll past his feet. The stench of dangerously potent sake did not even require the bottle to be lifted close for it to be smelt. ”When did you get a hold of this!?”
Based on the number of pots present, Uraume was certain Yuji had drunk about one-third of their stores. He was fortunate that he inherited his constitution from his father, as these brews were meant to combat the natural immunity their master held to alcohol and its inebriating effects. They were near fatal to anyone else. Even Uraume steered clear of them, only experiencing a tasting once when offered only to pay the price immediately after. Sukuna had been kind enough to remain by them as they cleared their stomach, though he had not stifled a laugh at their expense.
As for how the boy got ahold of them… Uraume held their tongue. The question had not been directed toward them, so their previously decided silence on the boy’s thievery remained in place. It did not help that they were the one who had inadvertently shown him where the sake was stored. While some of the more valuable pots were elsewhere, the kitchen’s storeroom had more than enough for him to accomplish this mess before them. At the moment, Sukuna hadn’t put together this fact, as his attention remained firmly on his son and the giggling happening within his father’s presence.
Rarely did he appear so jovial around him. The sight was so different from their usual interactions that Sukuna couldn’t simply overlook it. But he must. Through incessant babbling and eventual shouting, the boy was failing to communicate any form of acknowledgment of what he had done and the amusement it brought him.
Their master did not share in any of it.
“Get up.” Sukuna ordered upon his continued approach, only to be met with laughter and refusal. Yuji also rolled his eyes, showing not a care in the world for the being standing over him. “You will do as I say.”
The boy said something in that strange language of his. The one that matched nothing of the sounds and structure Uraume was familiar with. Presumably, it was a short quip or something longer that had been cut off as broken thoughts and a slowed mind tended to make it happen. Seamlessly shifting from unfamiliar to familiar and back again, Yuji then mumbled something about the clothes he’d given no care to, his hatred for the sun, cursing what may have been his attempt to say, instructor… Was he now whining about a missing animal?
There was no point in following his derailing thoughts. Even when Sukuna’s name fell into the mix, his father dismissed it as he flipped the boy over onto his side with a harsh nudge of his foot.
“I ought to sell you off to pay for all this. Teach you a lesson.” The threat was an empty one. Yuji, even drunk, knew it to be so. His father was too outwardly possessive for it to work. “You can become the bane of some other household— This is your last chance to get up on your own.”
Yuji shoved Sukuna’s invasive foot away in opposition to his aggressive tone. He did not accomplish any means of knocking his father off his balance, as the boy’s stunt merely pushed his own body further away. At least it accomplished the same goal: Keeping Sukuna away. When his father obviously chose to retaliate, their master was met with swatting hands and kicking feet, eventually rolling away to get on his hands and knees and force himself off the floor. The contents of Yuji’s stomach threatened to spill out— twice —but neither time had resulted in anything more than a disgusted look and what Uraume assumed were additional expletives directed to the two around him.
Resting his upper body solely on his knees resulted in Yuji swaying from one side to the other. His face would have collided with the ground and gained an imprint of the tatami beneath him if it wasn’t for Sukuna’s hand. This time, the boy grasped it tight and dragged himself the rest of the way until he was standing at his side. No shouting. No more venomous insults. Only an empty look that broke after an admittedly cute hiccup shocked him out of his stupor.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself? This tantrum… Clearly, you are capable of words.”
The boy looked up at his father, nodded with apparent understanding, and then proceeded to throw an impressively fast right hook toward Sukuna’s stomach. He missed on account of their master’s reaction time. A quick press of Yuji’s shoulder had tilted his body and caused the strike to miss, sending him spinning on unstable legs and ultimately falling against the very man he wanted to strike down.
“Sukuna!”
A growl reverberated within the boy’s chest. He continued to strike against his father, but his movements were poorly timed and horribly slow, resulting in nothing more than an embarrassing display Uraume could not watch for very much longer.
“Finally!” Sukuna shouted in return. Previous hopes in a confrontation had been met, though not exactly how he wished.
As they were not dismissed yet, the servant lowered their head and allowed their master to continue taking the matter of his drunken son into his own hands. The pavilion trembled as the two threw their weight around, but nothing had snapped by the time the mockery of laughter had turned to sobs, and the boy had collapsed into his father’s lap after all four arms were required to retrain him. An emotional breakdown was a natural consequence when all self-control had left, but this was… different. The distress on display, while still firmly held close to the boy’s chest, had broken free and trickled down his face.
There were no more attempts to free himself from his father’s hold. Yuji’s behavior flipped entirely, now reaching for Sukuna’s chest and speaking nothing either could understand to him. Every few words came with another strike, but they had lost all force behind them. It was only when a name had left the boy’s lips did Uraume believe to have caught a glimpse of what was going through his addled mind.
“Megumi.”
The name continued to be repeated, often with a pause before or after the collection of sounds that made it up, thus further proving that Uraume wasn’t just hearing something familiar to them. Despite the traditional use of it, that name belonged to a boy. A boy with more unruly hair than Yuji’s own, with pristine features and beauty that had Uraume listening closely to the way he was described when Yuji thought no one else could hear him. This was often the case when overhearing the creation process of the portraits Yuji created. Each more detailed than the last. But there was one whom he could never finish. A face that lacked the same amount of detail as the rest. Every time the boy had reached for his brush to finish it, he would have to step away and move on to something else.
The memory of this person must have been too painful to relive.
Yet, despite the pain Megumi’s memory brought, Yuji subjected himself to it regardless. To say that the two had been close was more than just an understatement. But to gesture toward his father and reach toward his center while saying that boy’s name… Had their master’s counterpart taken him away?
An even worse thought came after. One Uraume knew it was nothing more than speculation, as probable as it was, and wasn’t brought up later as a result.
Their master had been the one to suggest that much of his son’s rage, especially that around his creation as a vessel, came from the fact that he was no longer in use. That Sukuna had sought out another. That Yuji had unintentionally led their master to someone more suitable— Could that new vessel be the one his son could no longer stop calling for?
Regardless, Yuji eventually passed out. No longer awake to hear his father’s scolding, Sukuna put up with the development and proceeded to knead his brow while contemplating what to do next. Orders were given for Uraume to procure ginger and tea to assist with the boy’s stomach. There would be no end to Sukuna’s scolding once he was well enough to endure it, but for now, the limp body in his arms was not sitting well with him.
Uraume would not comment on it, instead offering to grab some pickled plums for when the boy could stomach food. The lack of eating proper meals had surely made the effects of alcohol worse. The recovery period would be unpredictable.
Sukuna accepted their proposal and sent them on their way, and the two were given time alone as a result. The expression on Sukuna’s face upon Uraume’s return suggested that something else had been exchanged between them, though they would never know what it was.
After the poison from the boy’s stunt had finally left his system, a mild sickness had taken its place. The reversed technique could only do so much for his body’s organs, yet even with the option of healing the parts most damaged, the boy had refused to call upon the power necessary to see it done. He should know how to do it. The heavens only knew how many times their master had repeated himself both in demonstration and later as vehement reminders to just ‘Get on with it.’ Incurring an illness, which in turn took a toll on the movement of cursed energy within the boy’s body, was what ultimately led Sukuna to give up on trying.
While most punishment came at the boy’s self-inflicted suffering, Sukuna had made it clear that postponed conversations that were long overdue would still be had upon his return. Their master had other business to attend to outside the estate once he knew Yuji was on the mend. He would judge whether the boy paid the price of his actions or not. Knowing that the boy was mostly bedbound left some solace when departing. A hope that Yuji would not get himself further into trouble during Sukuna’s absence. He had been able to remain with Uraume in the estate before, but what neither had anticipated was a certain visitor making a return the day after Sukuna’s departure.
“Why hello, Uraume. What a wonderful day it has been for travel. Not a storm cloud in sight.”
If it had been anyone else, the poor timing would have been nothing but an unfortunate occurrence. A forehead bisected with stitching and an overly friendly smile, in contrast, left Uraume convinced that Kenjaku had planned their reappearance to avoid Sukuna entirely. There was something else in the estate that held just as much interest. Something Sukuna had made clear would not become Kenjaku’s plaything when their master’s claws were already wrapped so tightly around his neck.
“Sukuna-sama is not accepting visitors at this time.”
“Of course not. But his ‘son’ can do so on his behalf, can he not? He is the man of the house in his father’s absence, after all.” Kenjaku attempted to step around Uraume, only for the servant to mirror the movement and stand in his way. That would not stop him from glancing over their shoulder to peer further in search of Yuji. “Where is he?”
“Resting.”
“This late in the day?”
It was already past noon, and it was improper to lounge about excessively. But what else was Uraume supposed to imply? Admitting to a small illness or the boy’s previous decision to drink through his father’s sake would not look good on any of them.
“What business do you have dictating how long he rests?” A question for a question.
“Since he claimed me to be his mother. Now, if you would kindly stand aside.” Kenjaku gestured with his fan for Uraume to move. The whole act was exaggerated and full of annoyance.
Uraume did not like this encounter. Not one bit. In terms of power between them, if they went by what was known about Kenjaku and the techniques he may carry, Uraume could conceivably hold their own should a fight occur between them. What had stopped them from declaring victory before making a single move was what was still unknown to them. Kenjaku was a calculated individual who planned for many counters for outcomes. Too much of their capabilities were a mystery, and since their master often refrained from taking out the man in cold blood when anger often boiled over, it was not Uraume’s place to do so when Sukuna was not present.
In short, engaging with Kenjaku in combat was a risk they were not prepared to take. The best course of action would be to host the sorcerer until Sukuna’s arrived to deal with him in their stead. They would observe and make note of everything Kenjaku did, refusing to leave Yuji alone with them as a compromise for not being as more difficult than necessary.
“I will escort you to the young master.” Uraume refused to bow their head and simply did what they said with no further comment to be made.
Yuji was awake and out of bed by the time of Kenjaku’s arrival.
He had not strayed far, as he sat with legs crossed at the edge of the engawa overlooking the garden. A large blanket had been dragged out with him. Intentionally covering his shoulders while his original red garb covered his head, Yuji avoided eye contact as long as possible until he realized who was eagerly making his way toward him. If looks could kill, Kenjaku would have dropped dead on this very path far too many times to count.
“Look at him. The boy is depressed. All spirit drained from his face. What have you been doing to him?” Immediately, critique spilled from Kenjaku’s mouth. If it wasn’t the boy’s physical appearance, then it was his posture or his surroundings. Nothing around him was well enough in Kenjaku’s eyes. All of it was intended to be jabs at Sukuna’s expense since he was not here to refuse them. “My poor baby.”
My poor baby? Uraume came close to gagging on the boy’s behalf. The same boy who Kenjaku still did not know the name of, considering no one happened to speak it nor did he ask for it.
Yuji’s own reaction to the unwanted doting was presenting his right fist without turning Kenjaku’s way, then extending his middle finger to perform the rude gesture he was so fond of. His ‘mother’ caught onto its meaning right away and tutted his lips.
“Are you not concerned about your modern influences wreaking havoc on this era’s cultural ecosystem? And don’t think I didn’t hear you babbling about in your era’s language last time. I can only imagine what phrases will eventually find their way into our lexicon if you aren’t careful.”
The boy lifted his left hand and repeated the gesture twice over. Not as a response to the exact words Kenjaku had spoken but more so because of the lack of understanding of most of them. Like Sukuna, the conniving sorcerer spoke in full sentences and complete thoughts, insisting that the boy pick up what he could and make do without knowing the rest. If Yuji were to ask for clarification, they may feel inclined to provide it, but rarely did he let his confusion be known outside of conversing with Uraume.
“You are your father's son.”
There was disappointment in their comment. As was acceptance. Regardless, Yuji’s stubbornness would not deter Kenjaku from pacing around the boy with a fan fluttering over his face. More glimpses were taken inside Yuji’s quarters, mental notes written down, but he would not invite himself in quite yet. The reason for Kenjaku’s visit was multifold and required enduring a lot of conversation to learn what intentions were at play.
“I heard about your stunt during the autumn harvest festival. Sukuna’s little songbird prince and his weeping heart, defiant of his own father. A captive beauty bound by such a cruel monster— Oh, but that’s just one side of it.” Ever the gossip, Kenjaku laughed at the second-hand rumors thrown about from his corner of the world. “A second monster had been brought into this world in mimicry of the first. A brat so terrible that even Sukuna had to lock him up for the sake of a second calamity ruining what claim he holds over this province.”
“Word had already traveled that far?”
“My dear Uraume, the lords who live on the fringes of Sukuna’s domain have looser lips than the courtesans. News of Sukuna having a son traveled faster than when the emperor announced his own heir not too long ago. This news has taken the capital by storm, and no one likes it one bit.”
With a sigh, Kenjaku spun about, mimicking the mannerisms of those whose words he was repeating. Each sentence came with a new pose, all the while Yuji looked up at him with annoyance rather than interest.
“They are questioning his ability to breed. Legitimacy and all that, but the pink hair certainly sold it for most.” Kenjaku pulled Yuji’s hood off his head as if to check whether his hair had changed in the time they’d spent apart. “Many are dying to know who the mother is— Even your name comes up quite a bit —meanwhile, a few others are making some ridiculous claims.”
Uraume scowled. Their name would not come up if someone didn’t feed the rumors with it. No one had the right to pry into their master’s business, nor were they entitled to answers when they did, but to come up with ridiculous explanations in place of an equally absurd truth was too much to put up with.
“Do you know how hard it has been to hold my tongue?” Kenjaku was whining now, begging for sympathy by going so far as to lean on Uraume’s shoulder when neither party would provide it. “The stress of it all is creating wrinkles on this young face. I almost went back to Tengen to squeal my heart out, but I had to keep my composure and travel here as quickly as I could.”
The only reason Kenjaku had maintained control of Yuji’s attention was his mention of Tengen’s name before his sudden walk into the boy’s quarters. He was no stranger to Uraume and Sukuna invading as they pleased, but it was this intrusion that sent the boy clamoring to his feet and giving chase while the sorcerer looked at all the gifted trinkets scattered about.
“The songbird prince… More like a princess, if you ask me.” From one thought to the next, something had beckoned Kenjaku further in. A stack of papers on a desk. A few blank pages remained on top, covering the many portraits that lie beneath that the sorcerer could not resist. “And what do we have here? Who are these—”
Further prying was halted by the sudden arrow, formed of compressed blood, flying past Kenjaku’s nose and tearing a sizable hole through the screen behind him. Silence had taken the place of words, filled with nothing but Yuji’s angered breath with one hand still in the air, ready to fire another shot that would be far worse than the warning he gave.
The pause gave mother and son a moment to exchange looks. An unchanging smile for a curled lip and stitched brows doing everything they could to keep whatever minimal control the boy had over himself in check.
“Get out.”
His order was enough to encourage Kenjaku to drop the painting, but the sorcerer did not move from their spot.
“Why did you not do this in front of the nobles? Don’t get me wrong, enduring Sukuna’s deadly blades was quite a feat, but this bit of information would have sparked so much more conflict. The major clans would have had a fit! Now, I can only imagine…” Kenjaku turned to the damage Yuji had done, one finger tracing the edges with care not to come into contact with the blood soaking into the paper. “The Kamo clan… I wonder what benefit there was in relating you to them? See, this is where time travel becomes tricky. Moments like these have me wondering if my desire to look into this would have been a choice I always made, or one you instilled within me.”
Whatever the boy understood of Kenjaku’s words had him recoiling. More troubled than before, he quickly moved past his own reaction to shove his way between Kenjaku and his art, refusing to allow any more of it to be seen.
This sudden closeness allowed Kenjaku the opportunity to grab the boy’s wrist, assessing him as quickly as the sorcerer possibly could before Yuji tore himself free. Unlike his father who could handle his strength, Kenjaku was rather average as far as humans came. The consequence of taking an unremarkable noble for a vessel.
“And you use their technique with so much ease? Shouldn’t you possess Sukuna’s technique? Hosting him would certainly engrave it into your body once used, I would know—”
“Enough.” Yuji cut Kenjaku off, shaking his head and refusing to listen to his ramblings further. “Stop talking.”
He may not want to hear what the sorcerer had to say, but for once, Uraume had found something worth paying attention to. Even with Blood Manipulation, the boy still had a chance to house the Shrine. Either Yuji did not wish to hear it on the grounds of it furthering his connection with Sukuna, or he already knew of the technique and could use it. The latter made sense, as keeping one's abilities close to one's chest was essential for taking full advantage of one’s own sorcery. But to think he’d withheld using it all this time…
“Did I strike a nerve?” Kenjaku taunted, ultimately letting the topic go when complaining about the lack of back and forth between them was far more important. “Can’t I make any conversation? Hm? It is the least you could do to make up for interfering with my plans. I assume that is a goal of yours, is it not?”
Yuji would not confirm or deny this.
“You and Tengen-sama spoke… Do you have answers?”
Weaving the previous complaint in with his answer, Kenjaku humored the boy and responded with the news Yuji had been waiting for.
“Tengen wouldn't know if it's possible unless you reveal the method of traveling— Which you still refuse to do —but based on your continued presence with us in conjunction with Sukuna’s refusal to change his mind leans more to the theory of these being a case of parallel timelines.”
Kenjaku grabbed what he required from Yuji’s papers and brushes without apology, quickly making the purpose of his action known by drawing two parallel lines on the page. One line was given a dot closer to the top of the page to represent Yuji’s era, while the other line’s dot was near the bottom to represent the current one. An arrow between them represented the jump made from one era to the next, as the current theory Kenjaku and Tengen had come up with was that of two separate worlds housing identical events, only for the current one to converge toward something new thanks to Yuji’s interference.
“What point would there be in coming here? You aren’t changing the future you are familiar with. Altering another’s timeline when the possibility of endless worlds with varying outcomes means nothing you do here matters in the grand scheme. I could understand it if this were an experiment, but we both know that it is not.”
Once again, the only one who knew anything about how and why the boy ended up here was himself. Refusal to give those answers remained a point of contention, but there was something to be said about the mixed look he gave upon coming to terms with Kenjaku’s explanation. Whether he was relieved or disappointed was hard to say. But the lack of any news on how to undo his predicament was what soured his mood the most.
Kenjaku saw this, but did not say anything about it. He did not seem like someone who would care. Such genuine feelings may as well be foreign to him, considering the many masks he wore over his lifetimes.
“Consider this: now that you know that your actions hold no consequences on your own time, why not leave with me while we still have the chance? I’m sure between the two of us, we can overpower Uraume and escape should they oppose your decision.” With a hand on Yuji’s shoulder, the scheming sorcerer had turned to Uraume when daring to suggest that he facilitate Yuji’s escape from Sukuna’s possession. In turn, Uraume’s glare could not burn a hole through the man fast enough. “Children belong with their mothers, after all. A proper education is in order, as well as a bit more poking and prodding—”
A bit unexpectedly, Yuji pulled away from Kenjaku, visibly disgusted by the proposition. Consideration had been present. For a split moment, only to be dashed away in the next. His desire to leave the estate had not waned, nor had his hatred of Sukuna lessened, but when an offer had come to him, his quick dismissal of it had Uraume attempting to understand the boy’s reasoning.
“You like being a prisoner then? Have you become attached to this imitation of nobility?” A heavy sigh split Kenjaku's words. “Do you see this, Uraume? The reality of domesticated birds is that eventually, you can leave the cage door wide open, and they forget that they ever had wings in the first place. It ruins them.”
Was that truly it? Had the boy been conditioned to stay that quickly?
Uraume did not think so. Yuji was far too like his father to roll over and accept his place so quickly. What really explained the boy’s decision was a combination of things. He knew better to run off so impulsively, aware of the anger he would face from his father and the many forms that could take. In conjunction with Kenjaku’s unknown intent, the risk of taking the offer would not be a price worth paying should it all fall apart for him. Most importantly, Yuji felt the energy in the air shift, signaling the arrival of his father, whom he wished to make himself scarce for.
If Kenjaku truly wished to take him away, he alone would have to petition Sukuna for the right. Additionally, he would have to explain his uninvited presence on the property with Uraume as a witness to what had transpired in Sukuna’s absence. The situation was not ideal, but that would not stop Kenjaku from sauntering toward the estate’s main entrance to great Sukuna with all the false goodwill the world could offer.
“I hope Sukuna kills him.” From around the pavilion's corner, Yuji’s muttered wish had been loud enough to reach Uraume’s ears. Both parents were an exception to the boy’s morals. While Uraume would never wish death upon their master, they could see why both Sukuna and Kenjaku garnered so much hate from their son.
“All we can do is hope, Yuji-sama.” Uraume responded. If the boy’s meddling through time could bring a swifter end to that headache than in the original version of events they would have experienced, then Yuji’s presence was undoubtedly a positive one. “I am glad to see that you are moving around once more.”
The boy said nothing more, leaving Uraume to follow after Kenjaku while embracing themselves for whatever was about to come next.
Notes:
Hello! <3 I have come bearing enough gift while I cry over the remaining chapters JJK has left. T^T
Notes:
-While Uraume would not care to describe the noble's daughter who had been offered to Yuji, she bears a resemblance to Izawa. (Yuji's middle school classmate.)
-Sukuna is still Sukuna. A monumental asshole who would not stand for Yuji's insolence, nor would he allow Yuji to defy him so openly and get his way. Once he realized why Yuji acted out, the punishment to use his own desire to help others against him was just perfectly cruel. And worst of all, Yuji realized quickly how much of a no-win situation he was in. At least he appealed to Sukuna's weird claim of fatherhood. >.> Take advantage of what you can, Yuji.
-Sukuna's disappointment in Yuji having *morals* and being a *good person* has the same energy as a parent being disappointed in their kid over some surface-level reason. He's just so bummed out. Where did he go wrong? (Answer, You had nothing to do with raising him, Sukuna!!!)
-Good sake was more of a luxury in older time period that the mass-produced stuff we have now. Considering this sake was specifically produced with Sukuna in mind, and Yuji just drank some priceless stuff out of teenage rebellion. He's mentioned to be naturally resistant to poisons thanks to being Sukuna's vessel, and since alcohol is technically a poison, having a special series of pots made felt like the best explanation to get the scene I wanted. :3 Drunk Yuji is so silly and sad. Him reaching for Megumi when this Sukuna does not have him trapped inside, just sorta crushed my heart a little. Q.Q
-Sukuna doesn't know the context surrounding Megumi like Uraume does, which makes me wonder if he believes him to be someone Yuji cares about in another sense, (esp with the topic of marriage previously brought up) considering Megumi is traditionally a female name. Yuji uses Megumi instead of Fushiguro here because I wanted to portray them as a tad bit closer.
-Kenjaku is a nosy gossip, and I love that for him. Also, Kenjaku doing impressions of gossiping nobles is a silly connection to Yuji who can do a bunch of half-baked impressions.
-In the Heian Era, mothers were responsible for child-rearing. They raised the next generation while their fathers focused on their duties, rarely interacting with their children, which makes Sukuna and Yuji's relationship quite an odd one. Even the way Sukuna treats Yuji by keeping him bound to the estate and allowing him to indulge in the arts is closer to how one would treat a daughter. XD Uraume has taken on what would have been Kenjaku's role in a more traditional family, which is why rumor has led to Uraume being named the other parent.
-We're going with parallel timelines for this story! What does that mean for Yuji? Well, his actions won't change the era he comes from, but he can alter the future in the timeline he currently resides in. His existence doesn't require Kenjaku making him all over again in this timeline, though no one knows that is 100% fact.
-There is a lot of small foreshadowing I have a lot of fun with when writing this fic. I also enjoy the limited POV, as there are small exchanges and other things happening that Uraume would not know about. It keeps the audience on their toes.That should be all! Minor errors will be corrected as I continue to reread these chapters after posting (I always do, haha)
! RECENT SPOILERS !
I've also recently edited information regarding Yuji's monster arms within this fic to match current understanding from the recent manga chapter. It is a minor change that changes very little ATM, though I find it kind of endearing that Yuji won't heal his second missing finger just in case Yuta still needs his CT.
Chapter Text
The amount of confidence Kenjaku displayed at any given time was equally awe-inspiring as it was infuriating. His pace never slowed, nor did the carefree attitude drop upon stepping atop the shinden’s main steps to look down upon its returning master. Those few steps between them offered Kenjaku an illusion that he held a position of authority where he should have none. Given whose eyes he looked toward without deferring his gaze after, describing the sorcerer as ill-mannered and foolish would be a kindness Uraume could not offer.
Their master’s scowl was too forgiving.
Ideally, Kenjaku’s head would have been separated from his body by now. Left to roll down the steps and to Sukuna’s feet, removing the stain of Kenjaku’s blood would have been a task worth enduring to see such a sight. Instead, the sorcerer remained standing with the ability to form unworthy thoughts into words. Proper formalities were cast aside, as Kenjaku apparently saw himself above them.
“While I am one to indulge in gossip, I certainly don’t let it color my opinions.” The sorcerer began with his chin held high and his hands folded within his sleeves. “So when I say that you have a disrespectful child—”
“—He takes after his mother.”
There had been no pause to comprehend the audacity, nor for consideration on how to receive it. Not a beat was skipped, matching Kenjaku's critique.
“Oh, come now, blatant refusal to exchange more than a few sentences without a scoff or purposeful inattention is clearly a trait of yours.”
This time, Sukuna withheld action just as he was about to scoff at the comment, choosing to shake his head instead and walk up the steps into the shinden. Either action would have proved Kenjaku’s point, but the latter gave Sukuna the satisfaction of dismissing the sorcerer’s words entirely. The latter put Kenjaku in his place, while in contrast, Uraume required no reminder as they bowed their head to greet their master as he moved past.
Before raising their head, Uraume glanced at what had become of their master’s cloak. The black covering had been scrunched together at the corners before being twisted into a makeshift sack. Something was inside, but what that something could be was hard to determine with what little Uraume could understand of it. The object inside appeared small but bulbous. Sukuna had taken enough care to avoid dropping it carelessly when leaving his bounty by the entrance. Uraume observed a slight shift in its contents, with no sound of anything hard or brittle shaking. It was likely that there was only one of something inside and that something was soft or flexible to alter its shape, even if only a smidge.
Sukuna did not draw attention to it after leaving it, thus the cloak and its contents left Uraume’s mind once conversation had begun again with the central hall. Kenjaku had not only followed their master inside, but made themselves comfortable as Sukuna sought to do the same. The only difference was that this was Sukuna’s estate, and he could do it as he pleased. Kenjaku was not offered such luxury, yet he took it regardless by claiming a nearby zabuton for himself.
“Are you proposing that you can do better?”
The insult to Sukuna through his son was obvious. The gall to come from a place of superiority more so. Uraume wondered if the lack of physical retaliation was their master’s way of granting Kenjaku permission to dig his own grave. A spectacular work of art, as if each sentence were the thrust of a shovel digging into the furthest reaches of the earth.
“That is exactly right. I couldn't agree more. As I was explaining before your arrival, children belong with their mothers.” Kenjaku’s reiteration of his earlier argument brought out a low growl from the mouth on Sukuna’s stomach. A warning to tread carefully, as the sorcerer’s antics were only so tolerable. “When possible. You have Uraume running ragged, serving you and teaching the boy the basics when I could accomplish so much more. If you intend to keep up this ‘noble’ lifestyle, then he should know how to act in all manner of situations. I see that you are indulging his interest in the arts, so why not have him study under a proper master, which I know many.”
The sorcerer’s words were starting to become white noise in Uraume’s mind. A saving grace from the pain they brought, but an annoyance that would undoubtedly affect their ability to take note of any valuable information tucked in between them.
To make matters worse, Yuji’s presence had been caught over their shoulder and hidden behind the partition between the main hall and the deck outside. The shuffling of curious feet reached Uraume’s ears by happenstance of proximity. It was only after that the servant noticed the faint pulse of cursed energy tightly bound within the boy’s chest. His attempt to remain unseen both by physical and mental eyes was commendable for his lack of experience, but ultimately, it paled in comparison to those honed in sorcery within this very room. Now that Uraume was aware of him, there was no doubt that the other two had noticed his lurking as well.
No one would bring attention to it.
“Are you done?” Sukuna leaned in his knuckles, certainly twitching underneath the weight to be used.
“That depends,” Kenjaku mirrored Sukuna’s posture only halfway, placing his hand beneath his instead of pressing against his cheek. “Will you hand him over or not?”
The acid that rose in Uraume’s throat came all too fast, matching in the heat overwhelming their core. Anger gave way to impulsivity, forcing their fingers to knead nothing but air to avoid lashing out in their master’s stead. Sukuna’s response to such insolent demands would be met with ferocity tenfold that of the festival. This was no ignorant noble presenting an unwanted gift— But a conniving weasel wishing to take their master’s son despite his very clear claim over him!
Uraume held the utmost faith that Kenjaku would receive the punishment they were due.
“If you want him,” Sukuna began with a knowing smirk crawling up the sides of his face. While a smile expressed happiness, the sharpened gaze of his left eyes displayed the truth. “By all means, take the brat.”
“I knew you were going to object— Wait, really?”
Really!?
Yuji breathed the same exclamation of shock, his own voice betraying his location. Uraume had almost done the same. More adept at holding their tongue, what had slipped through the cracks were not words, but their eyes widening to an embarrassing degree. The only solace found was in knowing that they stood behind their master and out of sight, whereas Kenjaku’s expertly crafted demeanor had shaken before him.
Something was wrong. No. What was wrong was the doubt in their master that Uraume allowed in their heart. The reasoning behind such a drastic shift in desire would make itself known.
“Really.” A yawn separated Sukuna’s words. The lack of urgency— The lack of offense and the desire to correct it continued to baffle. Surely, he was speaking in jest. “Go ahead, claim him as your own, and enjoy the headache that comes from him.”
“If you insist—”
“But,” Sukuna extended a finger into the air. “The burden of commanding him falls entirely onto you. I wish you luck in prying him out of his self-imposed isolation, let alone dragging him off toward the capital or wherever else you wanted to play this game of yours. I am sure you, an expert on the matters of children, will know how to combat his poor attitude.”
“Ah.”
And there it was. The logic behind perceived madness. It was not a matter of exchange but the ability to enforce the transfer of guardianship through. Yuji’s distaste for both Sukuna and Kenjaku was clear. His lack of respect and unwillingness to cooperate in the more minor things only cemented the observation further. But when it came to matters with more significant consequences, the boy knew when to yield. He learned to fear what those consequences may bring. He knew to fear because Sukuna’s strength superseded his own. Kenjaku, as far as physical capabilities were concerned, did not instill the same fear.
“Is something the matter?”
“No, not at all.” The sorcerer waved his hand, head already turned away in contemplation. Not all his ambitions had ceased. “I am simply reevaluating my method of approach…”
Additionally, there was another factor that certainly swayed Yuji’s decision. As far as what Uraume could gather, the boy was more familiar with Sukuna than his own mother. If one went solely by the time he spent within the current era instead of his home, there was no questioning who the boy was more familiar with, as Yuji had undoubtedly spent everyday within Sukuna’s estate or by his side when outside of it. Kenjaku was nothing more than a stranger. In the time Yuji hailed from, the boy literally shared a body with Sukuna, their souls coexisting in less than ideal terms.
Meanwhile, considering the type of person Yuji had grown up to be, Uraume could safely assume that he wasn’t raised by Kenjaku at all. Even the animosity the boy held for each felt different. While he cursed the existence thrust upon him, one anger and grief were more personal than the other.
Between the choice of the known or the unknown, it only stood to reason that the known was the preferred option. It may not be safer in the traditional sense, but knowing what one could expect granted some form of peace to one’s mind.
Just before the conversation could continue, the cloak that Sukuna had left by the shinden’s entrance began to move.
Uraume had thought they were seeing things. The movement had taken place in the corner of their eye as lack of full attention can let the mind wander. To their surprise, upon tilting their head and turning focus to the bundled cloak, observing the contents within move once more.
“Sukuna-sama.” Respectfully, Uraume interrupted the two before them and gestured toward the abandoned article of clothes. “Your cloak?”
A whine rang out after Uraume’s comment. Animalistic in nature, the sound fit the bobbing of what they thought was the outline of a snout looking for a way out of the darkness surrounding it. Tiny legs soon kicked about, four in total, painting a strange but familiar picture of what creature Sukuna had collected while away.
To say that Uraume was surprised was… accurate. Within the possibilities they had listed in their mind, their master bringing home a live animal was not one of them.
All eyes were on it by the time a head of white fur poked its way into view. Pointed ears flicked about while a nose sniffed the air for anything familiar as the little beast continued to wobble out to freedom. A bit scraggly for a pup its size, the little wolf knew better than to approach their master nor their master’s unwanted guest—Cursed Energy tended to make animals weary of those who possessed large quantities of it unless a technique's natural affinity countered it.
“Dog!” Yuji had given up on hiding. Standing right in the threshold between the shinden and what lay beyond it, the boy had whispered something in a higher pitch following his partially accurate description of what stood before him. The word sounded cute, full of hesitant energy that Uraume placed as a descriptive for it being young or small.
Something possessed the boy to squat on the ground to the pup’s level. He did not call it over, though he appeared very close to doing just that, hands eagerly on his knees until a particular scene had caught the little one’s interest. That was all it took for the pup to dash toward Yuji, snout shoving into the stomach pocket of the boy’s attire until he reached in and presented the stolen piece of dried fish that was hidden inside. Too hungry to worry about what danger anyone in the room could present, the pup yanked the offering out of Yuji’s hand and devoured it, accepting the boy’s gentle touch behind its ears.
“Good… boy?”
The pleased wagging tail on display caused the poor creature to lose its balance and fall, leaving it to sit on its hind legs and continue chewing through whatever else Yuji had decided to sneak while master and servant were occupied.
“Really? Another gift?” Kenjaku was the first to speak beyond Yuji, quick to clasp his forehead and groan. “A pet at that!”
This sudden shouting had alerted the boy that he was not alone. What had been a tiny bubble surrounding him and the pup had burst, leaving him with the reality of three observers staring down at him. Observers that he would not speak to. With blush spreading quickly in all directions of his face, Yuji quickly grabbed the pup and rolled out of view, afraid it would be taken otherwise. The lack of steps fading in the distance suggested that he remained with his back against the closest pillar. Uraume could only picture the frustrated pout on his face.
“You have offered nothing, so I suggest that you hold your tongue.” Sukuna did not deny that the pup was a gift—A questionable one, considering the time and energy that would go into caring for and training it, but one that already appeared to be well-received by the boy it was for.
“You already spoil him.”
“I do as I please.”
Uraume found themselves nodding. Their master’s choices in no way excused Kenjaku’s lack of contribution.
“Making up for the mistakes of others, I see.”
The moment Kenjaku’s jab hit their master’s ears, the tension in the room increased tenfold. Uraume could feel the hairs on the back of their neck spring up straight. It was not by their technique that the room grew cold. Bitterness had taken hold, leading to a suffocating pause that broke when their master let the silence snap at the sorcerer for him.
Whatever Kenjaku had referred to, it was personal. Considering Uraume’s inability to place it, the comment was before their time at Sukuna’s side. They had always known their master’s unfortunate relationship with Kenjaku to be a lengthy one. It would explain how often the sorcerer got away speaking as he did unscathed, as much as Uraume loathed it.
“What would you even do with the brat?” Ignoring the prior jab, Sukuna redirected the topic to why Kenjaku’s once mild interest had increased dramatically. “Gossip about his existence as my son must have already spread for you to have come here. Your connection to him is not nearly as obvious.”
“I planned to take him in as my ward.” Kenjaku welcomed the shift in priorities. The opportunity to boast about his plans was too good to pass on. “Spin a tale about his daring escape from your clutches, leaning into the bleeding heart angle that paints the boy’s image and see what can be gained by playing with the nobility’s sympathy. The sorcerer clans will be harder to convince, but not impossible. Curiosity and a desire to claim more power tends to trump fear in the more ambitious.”
Case in point, the sorcerer who was sitting within their master’s very hall.
“Then you will have the brat married for political ties, no doubt.” The mention of marriage caused their master’s teeth to grind.
“Of course! I don’t understand why you wouldn’t. A brute like you may not care about fostering relationships, but imagine the grandchildren, the potential they might hold if he can match you blow for blow.” That, right there, was the truth behind his interest. Curiosity of the scientific sense, the boy Kenjaku had created in Sukuna’s image was the perfect subject to test when Sukuna himself was off limits. Everything about the conversation had grown distasteful as a result of this revelation. “Are you not the least bit intrigued?”
It was not that Uraume held disbelief in Kenjaku’s words. It was that they no longer wished to hear them. Nor did they wish to hear their master’s response should he humor the topic further. The outcome of the autumn harvest festival should have made Yuji’s availability as a potential spouse clear, though they would admit that so far, only Sukuna’s desires had been factored in. No one had asked for Yuji’s opinion. While the filial duty to follow their parent’s wishes was important, perhaps the conversation would finally rest if the boy weighed in. Or maybe Uraume was just prying again. It has become more challenging to discern the difference lately.
He was still close enough to listen.
Having already taken a few steps back to separate themself from the two at odds, little effort was required for Uraume to lean their head back and address the boy now in their line of sight.
“Do you even hold a desire to marry?” A lover for the more… base desires were understandable. Taking a wife established permanency, but honestly, there was little difference beyond the connections and opportunities one could make use of. In the same vein, formal ties brought more voices in one’s home and possibly enemies to their door. Not that the boy’s title as prince had not already supplied an army’s worth.
Yuji thought for a moment. His eyes looked out toward the garden while his hands continued to placate the pup that had settled in his lap.
“Kugisaki said… No girlfriend until she has boyfriend.”
Girlfriend? Boyfriend? Spoken in relation to marriage, so the term must mean something more than designating the gender of a companion. This Kugisaki… who was she to dictate his relationships?
“And this person is…?”
“Terrifying.”
That answered nothing and only spawned more questions.
“Sorry to disappoint. The brat’s behavior at the festival was due to a good nature mistakenly ingrained into him from his upbringing. Besides, the brat already has a wife, and he seems quite attached.” Sukuna’s rising voice carried out of the shinden, as if beckoning both Uraume and Yuji to listen. He spoke with confidence that did not compliment the perplexed look that his son was giving him while their master recalled a name. “That Megumi—”
“No!?” Yuji stood up to object, startling the wolf pup as it jumped out and landed on all four paws. Back into the shinden, the boy marched in between the two bickering over him to clarify the grave error his father had made. “Megumi— Do not say his name. He is not my wife!”
“Lover, the boy-thing,” A misunderstanding was not a strong enough description for the blunder Sukuna insisted on. A bit of delight had trickled through despite his outward dismissal of the boy’s passionate objection. “Who names their son that?”
“Not my anything!” Redder than he ever had been before, the color of Yuji’s face rivaled his hood as he stormed off for good. The wolf pup eagerly chased after him, barking as if to cry out in demand for the boy to slow his pace so that the small beast may catch up.
Uraume did not know whether to be disappointed or to laugh. The topic was not a happy one, but the absolute buffoonery that kept occurring between the two was becoming all too commonplace. If one was not storming off, it was the other.
“Is something funny, Uraume?”
Oh, dear. Sukuna was addressing them directly. What had they allowed a smile to so easily come to their face, at their master’s expense no less?
“Do share so we may laugh as well,” Kenjaku added, fan beating about with anticipation. “I suspect you know something that Sukuna does not.”
If it were not for Sukuna’s frown, giving a silent order to comply, Uraume would have clamped their mouth shut immediately. Instead, they raised a sleeve to cover their mouth while clearing their throat. Once able to speak appropriately, Uraume proceeded to do just that.
“Megumi is the name of a sorcerer the young master misses dearly. I suspect he lost him before appearing here, though I could not tell you how.” Speculation on Sukuna’s new vessel would remain out of earshot of the one who crafted his intended original. “His face is amongst the paintings, often surrounded by sketches and doodles of animals entirely in black ink. Rabbits, toads, owls, wolves—”
There was little point in questioning when it came to why the boy would take to the wolf pup so quickly. To Uraume, it was obvious.
“There wouldn’t happen to be snakes and tigers, would there? Maybe an elephant or a deer in the mix?” Kenjaku’s question sparked Sukuna’s curiosity. All the animals listed were specific in nature, tied to a cursed technique both famous and formidable. It was only when all the creatures were listed that Uraume had put together the theme Yuji’s drawings shared. And now it was too obvious to ignore.
“I have not seen a tiger or a deer in association with the sorcerer. Snakes and elephants... No other beasts were drawn in relation to him outside the list you have given.”
“Then the chances of that Megumi being a bearer of the Ten Shadows Technique are quite high.” Sukuna mused. “Zenin Megumi… The brat has spoken the names of all three major clans several times. He does so without the weight of reverence or respect, as if they were any other person in his mind.”
“He is a Kamo, is he not? The chances of him interacting with the other two are rather high as well.”
Highly likely? Yes. But all his life as a member of the Kamo clan? It was not likely should Uraume’s reasoning be believed. A Gojo with the Six Eyes would discern what Yuji was in an instant upon the hastiest of glances. He would never be allowed to fulfill his role in incarnating their master to a new era if that were the case. Uraume suspected, then, that the boy was not raised within the family, nor did they know his purpose. Kenjaku would not be careless and bring an entire clan’s worth of people into a very delicate plan.
“If only you could ask him for clarification.” Kenjaku continued, acting smug when he was in a no better position than Sukuna regarding the boy’s history. “Oh, right. He does not like sharing anything about himself.”
On the contrary, Yuji seemed to do so often.
Never through a means easily understood.
“Well, anyway, now that our eavesdropper has vacated the area, I have another matter to discuss that will benefit from no further interruptions.” From within his sleeves, Kenjaku pulled out a rectangular lacquer box sealed with a talisman bearing Sukuna's title on its front. Bathed in cursed energy swirling around its outermost layer, the container reacted with a mild hum the closer it became to their master’s presence. “I came with a message from Tengen. Still sealed, see? I did not pry one bit.”
“If you could have, you already would have.”
Kenjaku placed the box and the message it contained on the ground and slid it forward, careful to mind his distance as Sukuna reached forward to receive it. Upon making contact with the box— the lighted touch from the tips of their master’s fingers —the talisman anchoring the barrier in place proceeded to light itself aflame until it was nothing but ash. The twine keeping the lid in place unraveled without any movement, granting access to the rolled-up message found inside.
Without hesitation, their master lifted the scroll and began to skim the lengthy message that awaited him. Far too many symbols and additions could be seen from Uraume’s vantage point, though they were not close enough to discern any meaning. Not that they had any right to know that. Nor did Kenjaku, who made his interest far more obvious, thus receiving the bulk of Sukuna’s scolding.
“Well?”
“What was it about prying?” Their master snarled, his mood worsening the longer he gave Tengen’s message time from his day. The Immortal One’s words were never well received, but the worsening disgust that led to the scroll being dismantled before their eyes was telling.
“Sukuna-sama.” Uraume began, unsure of how to address what they had witnessed. The heaviness of their master’s breath made his anger clear. If Kenjaku had not been present, Sukuna would have surely thrown a fit by now. “You look… troubled.”
“Tengen is offering to take the boy in should he no longer hold my interest.” Practically spitting her name onto the ground, Sukuna had no interest in yet another person wishing to take the boy from him. Unwilling to let himself be undone by her, Sukuna took a breath and steadied the outburst, raging just out of sight. “He has no proper place here— What does she know? Who is she to define what is proper? The brat may not be from this era, but that does not change the fact that he is here now, and I declare that he shall remain.”
“I can safely assume Tengen won’t be taking the boy in either?” The news that Sukuna’s adamant refusal remained strong was music to Kenjaku’s ears. “With a track record like hers…”
Their master’s eyes snapped up from where they’d fallen his palm, caught between a threat and a dare for the sorcerer to continue the sentence.
“Touchy subject.” Kenjaku shook his head while raising his hands in surrender, admitting defeat. He did so without further argument. Quick work was made to vacate the shinden, only this time, the sorcerer had no plans to carry onward down the road when he stood within the best shelter one could ask for come nightfall. “I shall escort myself to the guest quarters and leave you two some much-needed time alone.”
How dare—
“Tengen’s offer was not the only reason for her message.”
Sukuna called out, just loud enough to ensure that Kenjaku could not claim that his ears had failed to hear him. The sorcerer was expected to stop in his tracks, the tips of his ears and the back of his robes still caught in their master’s view.
“You have quite a lot of nerve, continuing to speak as if you are necessary when the brat’s time and ours may not be the simple cause and effect you were so desperate to preserve.”
“It is all rather interesting, is it not?” Unbothered by the obvious insinuation of his irrelevancy in their lives, Kenjaku pranced around the matter at hand. “Time itself is a construct for which we can perceive and understand events in sequential order. One decision requires, at minimum, two outcomes. Branching paths that can create distinct worlds in their own right. Your son may just be one of infinite possibilities, but a possibility nonetheless.”
“Your role is no longer required for the brat to remain.”
“Nor do I require you to get what I want. But considering our history, I can’t overlook you either. Offering a chance to be a part of something greater only felt like the right thing to do.”
“The right thing?” Sukuna laughed with the entirety of his chest. Uraume could not help but chuckle at the absurdity as well. “There is nothing greater than myself.”
“I will agree to disagree. In the meantime, the parallel worlds theory is just one explanation for why the boy hasn’t faded out of existence. Who knows? Maybe we are mistaken in assuming something when not enough has changed for his life to be in jeopardy. Regardless, let us pretend to be cordial with one another until we know for sure.” Kenjaku took one step, then another, only to stop and decide that it was not his turn to call out toward the one whose presence he showed no fear of. “For Yuji’s sake.”
It was not until he was gone did Sukuna’s posture fall and his desire to fall back against the ground tempted him so heavily.
“When did he learn the brat’s name?”
“I did not tell him, nor did Yuji-sama. Either that weasel glimpsed it among the boy’s writings or already had that name in mind for him even now.”
“His writings? He was in the brat’s quarters?”
Uraume gave a reluctant nod, then proceeded to summarize what Sukuna had missed from Kenjaku's visit before their master’s return. The sorcerer’s entitlement and prying had been relentless. Every shift in their gaze was toward another piece of the puzzle Yuji embodied, determined to see it solved no matter how long it would take.
“He then offered Yuji-sama the chance to leave with him without your permission. Right in front of me. Kenjaku will claim it to be in jest, but I know it was far from a joke.” Uraume loathed to admit it, but they were still seething over the interaction.
“And the brat? How did he light up at the chance of freedom outside my domain?”
“Yuji-sama did no such thing. You may rejoice in the fact that his disdain for Kenjaku is greater than what he feels toward you.”
“And it will remain that way.” Sukuna crossed his arms with a sigh. “I can only see Kenjaku’s continued presence fueling more animosity rather than combat it.”
As much as Uraume wished to object to Kenjaku’s stay— his continued breath —they thought it better to drop their concerns in favor of another. A topic of greater interest that was less likely to sour their master’s mood further.
“Kenjaku showed interest in Yuji-sama’s use of Blood Manipulation when threatened by the boy to stop rifling through his things. If he were to possess an inheritable technique, Shrine made more sense. The reasoning was that Yuji-sama had already served his purpose as a vessel; thus, your cursed technique would have been ingrained into his flesh upon use. His refusal to share it—”
“—Only serves to benefit him by keeping the rest of us doubtful. If he had thought his ability to wield it would have won our previous fights, he would have used it by now, so am I to believe that he is lacking in mastery of it.” Sukuna finished the thought, predicting the end of Uraume’s thoughts perfectly. “I had already come to the conclusion that he must possess it. How it coexists among everything else, I do not hold the answer, but the brat will reveal Shrine to me whether he wishes to or not.”
Finally, they could put the burning question to rest in place of another, more fascinating one: Had the boy already mastered the use of his Domain Expansion?
Uraume filed the inquiry away for later. A more immediate question had been burning within their chest since their master’s arrival. One they could safely ask without stepping over any precarious pitfalls in the process. All they would have to do was interrupt their master’s prideful stare when requesting that his attention return to the present.
“Sukuna-sama, if I may,” They did not wish to come off as judgmental, merely at a loss. “Why a wolf for the boy? A pup at that?”
“I happened to come across the thing half-dead and abandoned. The similarities were striking.” A chuckle snuck its way out of Sukuna’s throat at the boy’s expense. “If the brat wants it, he can have it, so long as he keeps it under control. I will have a formal discussion regarding it with him tonight. Make sure to relay that the pup’s stay hinges on his presence at our evening meal.”
“I shall.”
Sukuna had finally caught on to his son’s loneliness. Unwilling to risk a human companion that could take away attention and potentially fuel his rebellious spirit further, an animal was simply a mechanism for one to speak to oneself.
“You have made an excellent decision, Sukuna-sama. I am sure he will grow fond of it rather quickly.” Perhaps gratitude for the gift would cement itself in time, thus salvaging what little Sukuna could from what the autumn harvest festival had ruined.
“I expect as such."
Notes:
Shorter chapter, shorter notes? ôヮô
Notes:
-Kenjaku brings out the longest scenes, I swear. I was going to add at least one more scene to this chapter, but ultimately decided that ending on the last line felt *right*. Though, it does bother me how short this chapter is compared to the rest so far. Do any other writers feel the same way, like your first chapter establishes how long the rest of the fic's chapters should generally be?
-Zabuton are floor seat cushions!
-Kenjaku has such a strong personality. I don't know if its because of him using Suguru's body from canon, but the sass and drama that stems from every word brings me so much life. I imagine that he gets away with it because of the power and influence he holds. More so the former, as Kenjaku could conceivably have many CTs available to him that we are not aware of. I'm a little sad we are most likely not receiving any significant Heian Era flashbacks in canon to further inform the relationship of our Heian-Era characters, but that also gives me A LOT of freedom to write what I please without a confused audience. Haha.
-A comment from last chapter mentioned the possibility of Yuji drunk crying about an animal being related to the white wolf shikigami lost during the Detention Center Arc-You are correct. You deserve a cookie. It is also no coincidence (on the author's end, not by Sukuna's choice) that the wolf pup Sukuna gifts Yuji is white. Yuji deserves a companion to make him feel less lonely. Sukuna is still the worst father ever, despite this.
-Yuji uses Nobara's surname out of respect, enforcing the comment about her being scary. (He is honoring her vow regarding her feelings before the Shibuya Arc. It also hurts more, considering what he believes of her current condition at this moment in the story.) In addition to the subject of names, it felt weird writing Sukuna addressing Megumi first only by his given name, then by the 'Zenin Megumi' name rather than the full 'Fushiguro Megumi' I usually do to keep in line with canon. Meanwhile, Kenjaku knowing/guessing Yuji's given name was a fun way of playing with just how much Kenjaku may have had planned for him, even a thousand years before his creation. :3
-Not Sukuna believing himself a genius for his horrid misunderstanding of Yuji's relationship. Or maybe he's spot on and Yuji refuses to give him the satisfaction of being right. XD In another draft, I had Yuji claiming Jennifer Lawrence was his wife simply because no one could fact check him, but I liked how this exchange came out better.
-Tengen mention! Of course, if Yuji had heard Master Tengen's offer, he would have packed up his things and ran in her direction in a heart beat. In his mind, she is considered a 'good' in the world that would be worth ditching his parents for. Though, we cannot be sure what would become of Yuji should he join Tengen as a student or something else. There are also a lot of subtle HCs I won't go into just yet here involving Sukuna, Tengen, and Kenjaku's shared history I can't wait to hint at further and possibly explore.
-I am still debating on who else I want to appear in this fic. Yorozu is running circles in my head again, but that may also be because she is appearing in the next chapter of my other ongoing fic. XD I've spoken both on soc media and in comments regarding other characters from the future I might bring in, but it all depends. I have a few variations on how the story will turn after the next chapter, so we'll see which one wins out! <3The notes were not, in fact, shorter. OOPS! But I do have a longer chapter planned for the next update. Something regarding cursed techniques and another potential father-son trip. ;)
Thank you for reading! I'll try to respond to comments when I can! <3 Take care and enjoy the weekend!
Chapter Text
Uraume made a note to clarify that the little beast was not a dog but a wolf to set expectations to where they belonged. Training was going to be more difficult, as was handling the pup’s natural temperament. The only boon was that the pup was young. Manageable. Judging by its size, the little beast may have yet to imprint. When taking into account the immediate liking the pup took to Yuji, a very powerful bond could be forged with relative ease. The proper steps to facilitate this were explained and reiterated when going over the care of such an animal.
Their master’s estate was already housing one boy in the midst of being tamed and now a freeloader who refuses to bend unless it suits him. An unruly beast hellbent on destruction would certainly be the limit. Should the pup not reach expected standards… Oh, but the boy was insistent.
So determined and optimistic. The pup’s presence, as simple as it was, had ignited something within him that could not be explained.
Yuji had already named the pup. Little time was required to debate the topic. All of his energy had gone into deciding it by the end of the first night in spite of initial reservations until Kenjaku had commented on his lack of care should the pup remain nameless.
He called the beast Sato.
“He has a name.” The boy explained as he walked around the outside edge of the pavilion, beckoning the pup to follow around each bend. He would often repeat the pup’s name, utilizing positive reinforcement of treats whenever the little one did as he wished. Both had woken up with the sun, eager to see it rise over the horizon. “A name… means something.”
It meant sugar, but Uraume quickly understood that it was not the literal meaning that the boy was referring to. The name was a sign of attachment. This pup was no longer one of many that existed in the surrounding woods— Sato was this specific one. Singular and unique compared to any other. And while the boy’s respective parents may have their own opinions on the name he chose and the meaning he should have sought as expectations were held should this wolf take on the role of a hunting hound… Yuji was the one who had been gifted the beast and was responsible for its care. Not the other way around. He refused to change his mind and grew fond of the name as a result.
“That it does.” Uraume agreed, following the boy to keep an eye on him as he moved into the gardens with the pup in tow.
They could not help but think about the meaning behind the boy’s name. Far from an uncommon one, the traditional connotation was that of an abundance of peace or tranquility. Benevolence. Depending on how it is written, the characters used may offer a close variation. Uraume had yet to find confidence in attributing the boy’s characters to any particular meaning. Not every symbol he used had an equivalent in their time, though, when making direct comparisons on his more amicable days, it was clear that his kanji held their origin in the ones Uraume taught.
Benevolence… Was Yuji created on purpose to be unlike his father? Was their incompatibility to their core a necessary trait to be his vessel? Or was it as their master thought it to be? Nothing but a cruel joke for Kenjaku to find amusement in? A double-edged agreement. A price to be paid upon being ferried beyond death’s grasp and into an unknown future.
“Was it your mother who named you?” The question came with little warning, surprising Uraume with how easily it slipped off their tongue. One would expect the father to bestow a child with their name, but Kenjaku habitually ignored such expectations when it suited him. How could one stand him as a spouse? A wife at that?
“I do not know,” Yuji answered, surprised as well. He was unbothered by it, however, and continued to think on the matter before asking a question of his own. “Who named you?”
“My father.” Their answer had come swift, their breath short. There was nothing more to be said, and Yuji respected Uraume enough not to pry.
“And Sukuna?”
“The sorcerers would have you believe that they bestowed his title onto him. The Two-Faced Spector, The King of Curses, An accursed throne meant to mock him, designate him beneath humanity— But they are false.” Anger on their master’s behalf arose with Uraume, just enough to spread frost across the grass by their feet. Aware of this, the passion they felt, Uraume corrected their outburst accordingly. That did not stop the boy from taking notice. “Sukuna-sama stands above them. He chose to indulge their name as a taunt they could not match. Names hold meaning. There is fear to be found in his, known throughout every province as a force no mortal can match. Sukuna-sama may not have come up with the title, but he chose to adopt it. Ryomen Sukuna named himself.”
Yuji opened his mouth, about to ask something more, before closing it and nodding his head. He gave his thanks, then turned his attention back to the pup chasing fish away from the pond’s edge. The little yips the creature made weren’t nearly as grating as Uraume had braced for them to be.
The early morning marched on until it was time to prepare the day’s first meal. The kitchens called. Now that Yuji was willing to leave his quarters, there had been an underlying assumption that he would be following in Uraume’s tracks. An assumption they both shared, but knew would not be ideal. His hands were full with the pup. Any assistance he could provide would be full of distraction and error.
His guilt, however, was obvious. It was such a foreign expression to see when surrounded by the remorseless.
“Maybe not while Kenjaku is lurking about.” Uraume raised their hand, beseeching Yuji to remain where he was. “I do not wish to give him any more fodder to spew Sukuna-sama’s way.”
Or more fuel to add to the rumors. The Prince of Curses should have a respectable reputation. A rebellious spirit wasn’t ideal, but it was far better than rumors of incompetence or madness. The boy’s actions, whatever they may be, should speak for themselves. The truth is inescapable. To paint a picture otherwise would be to live in a state of pathetic whimsy, something much of the nobility was too ingrained in to ever break from.
“Sorry.”
“Offering apologies… I should have never taught the word.” Uraume shook their head, feigning their anger when, in truth, they were more amused than anything else.
The next few days went on like this.
All of Yuji’s attention had shifted to the pup, completely flipping his refusal to leave his quarters on its head. While the beast was a small distraction, Uraume’s previous lessons were able to resume without interruption… At least on the first day.
The second, and then the third—Oh, Uraume dreaded that the fourth would repeat the same now that Kenjaku had taken an interest in them. The ever-complaining sorcerer would not leave. His stay in the guest quarters had no definite end. No date or schedule had passed by Uraume’s ears. As far as the servant was concerned, Kenjaku had taken up a semi-permanent residence within the walls of the estate and was now refusing to leave until their goals regarding Yuji were met.
“Must you humor this farce?” Rarely did Uraume question their master, but even they possessed a limit. Leaving Yuji alone came with too high of a risk. It was not a matter of the boy running off, but of Kenjaku approaching him and filling his head with whatever machinations still persist in the sorcerer’s mind. “May I bind him to the quarters he so rudely claimed?”
“He is as old as Tengen, if not older.” Sukuna had explained with the heaviest of sighs. “Kenjaku would not stroll through these halls without a means to recover from any strike made against him. There is a greater headache gained from getting rid of him than simply not granting him the attention he is after.”
Older than Tengen… Kenjaku and his perverse means of extending his own life would never fail to sicken Uraume to the core. There was an art to taking a life. A use to be found in the flesh of those who parted. But to where their master would naturally consume was a step too far. A mask made of flesh and a sense of self muddled around the edges by what memory remained etched in the body he had stolen. All of it brought an unexplained shiver to Uraume’s core.
They had long thought themselves numb to such atrocities. Some things, however, still managed to crawl underneath their skin.
It was not a matter of fear, but a matter of caution. Of planning and execution. Sukuna would not act hastily against an opponent many times his senior. Kenjaku’s mind never grew feeble with age. His base of knowledge would continue to grow. Neither an ally nor a friend, Kenjaku was merely another power in this world worth letting loose to observe what came of his meddling. To Sukuna, he was an interesting aspect of this world worth indulging in from time to time.
“He will not leave Yuji-sama alone.”
“Then perhaps the brat will snap, and I will be thoroughly entertained.” There would be no sympathy for Uraume’s plight. Sukuna had made up his mind. In addition, the chance of Kenjaku riling information out of the boy that he could not be too good of an opportunity to pass up. “Continue to act as a barrier between them should a conversation turn suspect. Report anything useful, but otherwise endure.”
“Of course, Sukuna-sama.”
And as Sukuna had predicted, the boy loathed every minute Kenjaku was close by. His need to correct the most minute of details or offer thoughts no one asked for left Yuji threatening to remove him from the room constantly. Quite often, the boy succeeded in doing so, but only because Kenjaku did not argue beyond a whine of disapproval. This game of theirs got old real quick. A few close calls appeared to tease the confrontation Sukuna had hoped for, but Yuji never truly came about.
Unfortunately, none of this meant that Sukuna was faring any better with him either.
Yuji’s silence persisted around his father unless his words were pried off his tongue. He still did not visit for tea late at night, preferring the company of the pup curled up in his bed to the one he used to lean against for comfort. With his attention split between lessons and the pup’s training, Sukuna had not found the right moment to approach him to spar either.
It was strange, considering that their master could demand what he desired at any moment. Their schedules held no power to supersede his, yet Sukuna preferred to observe the boy from a distance in between reports from the outer edges of his domain. Yuji was a welcome distraction. A moment to put down responsibility and return to the interest that kept the boy around in the first place. Something felt off, but Uraume could not fathom what.
As long as their master appeared content with his position, then certainly no harm was being done… Right?
A storm raged outside.
Unserious minds would joke about Sukuna’s irritable mood being the cause for such a storm, but in truth, their master held no dominion over the weather. Calling lightning with a tool was not the same as a torrential downpour. The rain had come just as the dark clouds had warned, providing ample time to move the necessary things under any available coverings before it was too late.
Spending any time outside would not be ideal. Visibility was low, and remained that way for the entirety of the day. Not only that, but the air had become frigid. The rain threatened to turn to hail at any moment, something Uraume could mitigate, though not for any lengthy period nor over the entirety of the estate. Sukuna and Kenjaku spent the afternoon sequestered in the shinden and arguing over drinks about a multitude of topics. Nearly all of them began with Yuji, but soon they branched out far and wide, risking claims of nonsense to anyone daring to listen after the first jug of sake had been emptied. Said topic of their thoughts would not join them. Even the sight of sake, let alone the smell made the boy sick after his stunt. He would rather remain in his quarters and watch the wolf pup run around in circles chasing after its tail.
Rounds were made to see that both parties remained warm and content. Should the unwelcome weather continue into the next day or after, temperaments would surely rise. What better time would there be to kick Kenjaku off the property than on a day like this? Sukuna would have to find amusement in it. The daydream was a simple one. Uraume found themselves humming at the thought of it, wondering if such an event could be used to bring father and son just a tad bit closer. Surely there would be bonding to be had?
With one hand and expert-level balance, Uraume pushed the shoji screen to the boy’s quarters with one hand while keeping their serving tray steady in the other. One small nudge was enough to give their foot space to enter and widen the newly formed gap to enter through. By then, Yuji had taken notice of them and ran to their aid with hands ready to receive the fresh pot of warm tea they sought to provide. Papers flew about in the process from his fumbling. Feet danced around the small brazier in the room’s center that had been placed to keep him warm, while dim candles flickered about to bring some lighting while the sun’s rays were absent from the sky.
It was a miracle that the pup did nothing more than move its head in Uraume’s direction from atop the boy’s bed.
“There is no need to trouble yourself—” Uraume had begun, only to drop the reminder of their positions as they accepted the conversation to be a futile one. “Yuji-sama, there are papers everywhere.”
“Yes. Busy, I—” The boy’s fractured speech also came to a quick end. Instead of moving on to something else, however, he simply remained silent as Uraume had already reached out and plucked one of the boy’s scattered drawings from the floor.
Normally, they kept their distance from his work while sharing the same room. He’d caught onto their prying, and after some time, they’d stopped altogether to avoid causing a fuss.
But this, this was… a far more significant challenge to overlook. It was not every day that one found a possible drawing of oneself lying by their feet. The hair may be a bit longer than their current style, but the smaller features, such as the light concave arch of the subjects’s nose and the dash of plum coloration within a set of unimpressed eyes. It was certainly an in-progress piece with an accidental spill of ink on the back of the subject’s hair with a few lighter sketches of other expressions surrounding the stoic piece at the center… Uraume continued to stare at it, unsure of what to say until the silence grew a bit too awkward for the two of them.
“Is this me?” Presumption without reason was foolish, though the similarities were enough that Uraume hoped they would be forgiven for making the connection. “Or, perhaps, the one of your time?”
“Yes.” Yuji breathed, relieved to find their initial reaction to hold no discontent. The same could not be said for the emotion the art itself held.
“You depict them angry.”
No effort was made to take the drawing back, allowing Uraume the chance to assess it further while the boy worked to collect what he could off the floor. The sound of rolling brushes and a curt hiss led them to believe something was kicked over that shouldn’t have been. Hopefully, it was not ink or paint.
“You… They did not like me.”
Unfortunately, that made sense. If the Sukuna of his time held no interest or affection toward the boy, enough to draw out an unbridled rage present even now, Uraume’s counterpart would have shared the same disposition. There would have been no need for them to even try. Why would they?
Did those same feelings carry over from their counterpart to now? Uraume would like to think that was not the case. Capable of making their own decisions based on their own interactions, the negative feelings Uraume held for the boy were often paired with the small moments of brevity and understanding between them. He gave his father unneeded trouble and disrespect, cascading to Uraume to endure their master’s venting. When interacting with him directly, the boy acted amicable at his best and cold at his worst. It wasn’t common for Uraume to hold exceptions to their master’s view. It was rare, if not impossible.
Yet, here Uraume was, reflecting on their stance with deep consolidation.
“I hold no ill will toward you.” Uraume announced, content with the explanation that came next.
“Thank you?”
“You could stand to be more respectful to Sukuna-sama. You live in his home and eat his food. He offers education and guidance and you remain defiant in return. Sukuna does not require affection or adoration, merely acceptance of your place. I fail to believe that filial obedience is no longer an expectation of children where you are from.”
“Oh.” The boy deflated at the impromptu lecture.
“Your intolerance toward Kenjaku, however, makes up for your difficulty. But only for so long.” Stifling any joy Uraume found in the boy’s desire for matricide was a must to save face. One could only encourage so much. And speaking of Kenjaku…
Uraume’s attention moved from the drawing in their hand to those that remained on the floor. No longer viewing the layout randomly, Uraume could see the intentionality behind where each face had been lined loosely beside the others before Yuji had jumped around to reach Uraume’s side. The first of the bunch to catch their eye was the bit of detail on the edge that they recalled from Kenjaku’s first time flipping through the stack Yuji kept.
Unlike Kenjaku, Uraume would not be attacked for merely looking. A young man with messy hair tied in twin tails would be assumed to have a wild expression to match, but his face was mildly curious and oh so very worn if the bags under his eyes were to be believed. The black bar across his nose stood out the most, some kind of marking.
“Choso.” Yuji supplied what Uraume gathered as a name after their pause lasted longer than it should. “Older—Oldest brother.”
The first of Kenjaku’s children… That they knew of.
“The one who taught you?”
“A little.” The boy admitted. He was a bit reluctant to do so, appearing almost apologetic to the image he constructed as he continued. “Kamo helped. He… A better teacher.”
Kamo? Which one?
“And… who are these here?” The first of the pair was a familiar face. The subject of recent discussion is the boy of the Zenin clan to whom Yuji was not, in fact, married.
“Fushiguro Megumi.”
Correction. Fushiguro, not Zenin. Had the Ten Shadows Technique finally escaped the clan?
“Kugisaki Nobara.” Yuji’s pointed finger moved to the girl beside him. Flowers had been drawn up her left side and over her eye. A cocky grin exposed her confidence, and her strange uniform shared enough detail with Megumi and the clothes Yuji arrived in to reveal the three were connected in a more meaningful way. “Student— Students, like me. Our sensei….”
Caught in a sharing mood, the boy was elated to move from one image to the next in search of the man he was referring to. He did not appear to be far older than his students, showcasing a fair amount of youth in his posture and smile that wasn’t simply a reflection of the boy’s abilities to capture distinct faces. Just as unruly as the rest, his eyes were hidden by a handful of black streaks across the page, leaving Uraume to guess what meaning there could be.
“Gojo Satoru.” Pride had swelled in the boy’s chest. Yuji spoke as if Uraume should know him and understand why the title that came after was so easy for him to accept. “The Strongest.”
The strongest… A Gojo? Self-importance and faux grandeur had surely snaked their way through the clan’s bloodline. An attempt was made by Uraume to withhold a great desire to dismiss the boy’s claim. Shattering the boy’s delusions within this willing moment to share information he’d kept hidden would likely cause his openness to cease.
Everyone knew that a member of the Gojo clan was only worth something if they were born with an immense amount of cursed energy and a worthwhile technique to put it to use. While there were outliers among their branch members, there was only one true sorcerer within the clan at any given point.
The bearer of the Six Eyes.
And even more prestigious was a Six Eyes who could call forth the Limitless Technique. Should both qualifications be met, then the mistake of claiming this Gojo as ‘The Strongest’ was one Uraume could forgive. Now, the hiding of his eyes told a different story.
When did this Gojo get a hold of Sukuna’s vessel? If it was before their master had properly incarnated, then why was the boy allowed to live? If it was after, then what use did the Gojo intend for him?
Uraume thought back to the presence of the Ten Shadows user. Why would a Gojo be permitted to teach what would naturally be the heir of a rival clan? This question was yet another reminder of the disparity between their time and one Yuji hailed from. Change came in all sorts of ways, some more noticeable than others. The politics of the clans could have shifted in the years between, yet with Tengen acting as a permanent cornerstone to guide the Jujutsu world, only so much could deviate before it became a problem.
Hm…
As Uraume continued to ponder, unsure of what question to ask or how to word it best, they watched Yuji’s right hand gravitate toward his left. His fingers attempted to clasp onto the empty space his missing two had left behind. A nervous tick, perhaps? A source of anxiety. Or a reminder of something he would not explain.
What Uraume could discern from his body language was where his eyes had gone. He had not chosen a random direction to hide his smile. By his feet was another drawing of an elder, which stood out among the many younger faces of those Uraume deemed to be his peers. He held a grimace on his face. Disappointed, a bit annoyed, the resemblance to Sukuna’s resting face when a certain someone was nearby was just enough to pique Uraume’s interest.
“Who is this man?”
“Grandfather.” Yuji lifted the portrait off the ground, rubbing the back of his neck as he presented the old man’s face beside his own. “Itadori Wasuke.”
“Itadori?” Uraume repeated, slowly becoming aware that they had finally uncovered the boy’s surname. A clan they did not recognize whatsoever. Likely a minor one. A branch of the Kamo clan?
Itadori Yuji…
That man was his grandfather, but by what means? The boy’s family history was a difficult one to construct, given the role Kenjaku played in seeing to his creation. Had his bloodline been tailored over the years to meet specific criteria? Were his parents merely puppets, or did Kenjaku put them to greater use? Question after question this boy brought with every word he spoke, yet just as Uraume truly wished for clarity to think this conundrum through, Yuji began rambling about in his own language without much awareness for the one still standing beside him.
Uraume did not believe that Yuji was aware of it at first. Caught up in a pleasant memory, the boy continued to speak as he once did with Sukuna for a short time, only to drift off into harsh reality, intent on seeing that his words fade and his smile fall. What blush had come from his excitement had spread around his eyes. Puffy and threatening to burst as moisture continued to accumulate, Yuji’s denial of this sudden shift broke the moment he decided it was time to clean up his things no matter how difficult it was to see through his clouded vision.
No effort was made to stop him, and Uraume did not assist, allowing Yuji the time he required to gather the drawings in the hasty order he desired before placing them back on the desk where he believed they should belong.
“He is dead.” That was all Yuji said as he wiped away unwanted tears from his cheeks. He would not elaborate on when or how, leaving the fact to hang over them both. “A good man. The best.”
A couple more words had tumbled out, but Uraume knew nothing of what they meant.
That old man… He was the one who raised him. The one who made him so unlike his father. And Kenjaku had done nothing about this?
“I am sorry that your loss affects you so.” Uraume attempted to return their counterpart’s portrait to Yuji, but he raised his hand and denied it.
They could not accept this. Not that they didn’t appreciate the gesture, but the initial offense and then envy Sukuna may hold over Uraume receiving something so personal was not to be taken lightly.
“Yuji-sama, I cannot—” Once again, Uraume petitioned the boy to understand. They were cut off by his stubbornness.
“I do not want it.” He did not look at them. Brushing the item away. “Not you.”
“I shall dispose of this, then.” Adamant on steering Yuji in the proper direction, both in whom the gesture should be before and the proper means of presenting it, Uraume pushed him to consider his father. “You should paint Sukuna-sama and offer it. Avoid tearing it up before you do. They are not the same—”
“They are.” The goodwill between them came to an immediate end. Yuji’s face darkened as his whole body teetered on the edge of snapping. The shift toward aggression was quick and seamless, creating a mild sense of unease. “Sukuna is Sukuna. Always.”
There would be no further argument.
Not today.
Uraume did not know enough of the counterpart’s actions to push. Forcing the boy to reciprocate their master’s desires was a senseless task. The autumn harvest festival had been a cruel enough reminder of their master’s character. An unshakable ego that would not bend or break to anyone or anything. Yuji benefited from favoritism whether he knew or wished it. A child born of Sukuna, thus the connection shared was enough to warrant interaction.
But the boy was too different. Or maybe too similar? Regardless, personal history framed his current understanding. It took at least two to engage in conversation. Two to argue. Two to fight. Their master’s counterpart was just as at fault for the boy’s combative attitude. If Yuji had found his way here before his mind could be tainted… Why must their master’s greatest foe to challenge his goals be himself?
“He shouldn’t be learning our language this quickly.”
Uraume would not admit it out loud, but their bones had threatened to leap out of their skin upon hearing Kenjaku’s voice with no immediate face to accompany it. The sorcerer had chosen an isolated corner to lean against, just far enough away from their master’s quarters to make it clear this conversation wasn’t one Sukuna was to listen in on by happenstance.
With a scoff, Uraume’s first instinct was to dismiss the man’s comment and continue on. Daily tasks were becoming taxing on the mind as long as he was around.
But the man would not take the hint, and his words would not stop.
“He has been with you, what, a month? Roughly?”
Against their better judgment, Uraume’s movements ceased. The basket of clean garments they carried remained right within their hands, its weight gone ignored while they pondered what the sorcerer was attempting to imply.
Languages were complex, full of nuance and context. Both spoken and written, the act of learning one from nothing took years for fluency if the progression of traditional education was to be used as a baseline. Teaching something vague but familiar enough to someone someone already knows is often easier and cuts necessary time to learn by a wide margin. Yuji’s progress compared to what Uraume knew to expect was… inconsistent.
For a while, the servant had chosen to believe the boy was simply a quick study. He’d admitted to being as such with both his words and actions regarding sorcery. Yet when the pair ventured into other realms of education, he did not seem to progress nearly as quickly.
“I have considered…” Uraume began, annoyed with themselves for engaging in a long overdue discussion. “Teaching the young master feels as if I’m reintroducing something he already knows, even if he is not aware of it. At the same time, his confusion and then relief in eventual understanding are genuine. You stated that Sukuna-sama’s cursed technique should have been carved into his body. Could the same be said of other aspects as well? Unconsciously leaving a mark.”
“A mark from Sukuna?” Kenjaku held his chin, stroking his face while in thought. “For all I know, the boy is a literal piece of him given shape and autonomy.”
Uraume could not help but tilt their head at this. Annoyance further ingrained itself. First by tensing the back of their neck and shoulders as if they were physically grasped, then by an intrusive shudder down their spine.
“You do not know the method of his creation?”
“Uraume, time is nothing more than a variable I shift about as I please. Sukuna’s awakening after I planned to seal him would not have been for several centuries, which offers plenty of time for research.” Difficult, but not impossible with that false face Kenjaku wore, Uraume reminded themselves once again of his age. An age he did not act. An age that should know better than to stick hands into mouths full of fangs. “Do consider that your master has no offspring or direct family lines to pull from and could have very well not possessed either at the time of his counterpart’s agreement. The boy is not related to him in the traditional sense. A piece of Sukuna’s soul, as they tend to warp the body to their needs, would be necessary to create the thing walking through these halls.”
First it was ‘My baby boy.” and now it was ‘Thing.’ His emotional attachment was hollow, best represented by a rotted-out tree. His infatuation with the concept of parenthood holds the same interest as a child would a toy. To be even more perverse, Kenjaku uses a simple word that many would throw against their master. Sukuna was born of a human mother, but would never be considered human.
Fair enough.
He had ascended beyond that of any human. The comparison was pointless. But to place his son in the same category… Their bloodline was something else entirely.
“I will admit that I have been observing him in the hope of discerning what my counterpart had done. As for what I’ve found… It’s all a bit too confusing to say.” Now he was crossing his arms, posturing worsening as his body slumped against the wall. “Much of his cursed energy is derived from his time as a vessel, but to find a large portion still comprised many smaller sources? What else did he consume for such power?”
“Consume? That is a specific assumption to make.”
“To awaken those I seal, consumption is in order. But they are not the only objects that exist in this world, no? To eat and fill one’s stomach… Oh, but he surely gorged himself. Despite these morals he holds, I was correct to say that he is quite like his father.” Kenjaku pushed himself onto his own two feet, no longer seeking support elsewhere as he leaned around the bend to address a third set of ears. “Isn’t that right?”
The sorcerer’s movements followed Yuji as he entered Uraume's view. His eyes did not meet neither servant nor unwanted guest, his focused expression on what lay ahead morose and unchanged. How long he had been present and whether his eavesdropping had been purposeful were not known. The wolf pup trailed behind him, hardly threatening Kenjaku with its growl until eye contact sent the little beast running with his tail between his legs.
What was Kenjaku suggesting? Did the boy consume other cursed objects beyond the ones necessary to facilitate Sukuna’s incarnation? When, and for what purpose? One would think that there would be signs of another’s consciousness within him, but seeing that he was created as a repository for cast amounts of cursed energy to be contained within… His own existence must naturally override any other. All except Sukuna.
“Come now, no secrets between family.”
Yuji continued to ignore his mother. The boy kept walking, taking the woven basket out of Uraume’s hands as they were already on their way to his quarters—An act to prevent a conversation after this one. Without words, he ordered both parties to drop the topic, which neither could do forever. This was not a subject of pride. Yuji may have engaged in this topic if it had.
“Why must you goad him just as you do his father?” Every day , Kenjaku and Sukuna are engaged in the same game, though they do not admit to the similarities between the two. “It is as if you ask for death. I hope to be present the day it comes for you.”
“Merely interested in his response. Or the lack of one.” Kenjaku shrugged as he turned toward the opposing direction, content for the moment. “I’ll find a use for him yet.”
“Sukuna does not wish you to.”
“Better I than Tengen. We all know that.”
Uraume wished they could argue, but in truth, they knew nothing of the Immortal One’s intentions. Kenjaku may have already discussed them or gleaned enough from their interaction to guess. Sukuna may hold some assumptions of his own, but Uraume had never once stood in their presence to observe the being who chose to experience the world from afar. Tengen was nothing more than a concept learned through whispered rumors and highly personal second-hand opinions. Yuji’s reaction to the name would leave the impression that Tengen was to be trusted. That she was reliable. An encounter to look forward to with excitement and hope.
Their master spat on such notions. Tengen would not take the boy, and he would be better off for it. If their master said so, then Uraume would stand by and agree wholeheartedly. Whether Tengen was suited better to guide the boy’s future over Kenjaku, however… Who could say? And who would, given that neither outcome was likely to occur?
“And yet Tengen-sama is the only one the young master showed any joy in meeting.”
A vein threatened visibility upon Kenjaku’s head. It would appear that Uraume had struck a nerve.
“The poor thing has been lied to. Manipulated.” Kenjaku raised the back of their palm to their forehead, continuing the dramatics as he left. “Oh, the tragedy.”
“A tragedy indeed.” The boy’s upbringing was not the only one.
While tensions between Sukuna and Yuji showed little sign of winding down, Uraume’s curiosity about what their master planned to do about him continued to soar. What strategy was he attempting to employ?
All talk of cursed techniques between father and son had ceased, as did their sparring while Kenjaku’s residence continued. It was not as if Sukuna had suddenly dropped all interest. No, the opposite must hold true if Kenjaku’s assertion of Yuji’s inheritance was to be believed. The need to draw Shrine or the individual techniques constituting its whole would become ever more present. Remaining defiant against his own desires was out of character for their master. When questioned, the most Uraume would get was a scolding for their lack of faith and a reminder that patience was paramount.
Patience? Patience was certainly a quality their master was capable of, but truthfully, he was not known for it. Sukuna had admitted so himself on more than one occasion.
To his credit, the boy was appearing at meals again. There was no fighting to drag him out nor a need to reprimand a poor attitude or improper manners when present. The little beast on his heels was relegated outside and often left to whine until he handed placed food out to sate the beast. Uraume was mindful enough to leave a bowl with scraps for the pup off to the side, or else Yuji would continue to pull from his tray instead. No comments would be made from their master over his antics nor would Sukuna refer to the pup’s existence at all, but it was evident by closing of his eyes and the flare of his nostrils that he had something to say.
The wolf pup had been an appreciated gift. It was one hesitantly accepted and full of caution, but accepted nonetheless. Yuji had suspected from the start, just as Uraume had, that there would be an eventual price to pay for their master’s generosity. The boy was afraid to grow attached for that reason, but his nature conflicted with his better judgment and eventually overruled it. A risk was taken. A name was given, and now he was openly showing his affection for the wolf pup by wrestling on the grounds and singing praises, unaware of how far his voice carried.
How long would this odd bout of tranquility last?
Not much time would pass for Uraume’s question to receive an answer.
A man hobbled onto the estate’s grounds that afternoon with heaving lungs and a hunched over his back, hands clutching tight a letter for intended Sukuna’s eyes to read and pass judgment. Whatever news the man had brought, it was not pleasant. Uraume had guessed it to be disappointing. If Sukuna had been swayed into immediate action or driven to speak a single word, there would be a need to take interest as well and follow his lead. The energy in the air would have pulsed to life.
This message did neither of those things.
Its contents were neither a development that was not harrowing enough to be of interest nor grand enough to spark joy. At most, Uraume picked up a groan as their master rubbed his eyes. Normally that was a precursor to the poor messenger soul’s quick and bloody demise. Today, though, their master refrained and waved him off. The state of the rags the man passed for clothes or his need for food and shelter mattered little. He would not live to see the next morning if he were to stay. Sending him back onto the roads was an unexpected kindness, for he should show unparalleled gratitude.
“Summon the brat to the main hall.” Sukuna ordered with no elaboration.
Uraume would not ask it nor require it, but their mind indeed speculated on what could have occurred. The man appeared to be from the lake settlement to the north. And if the delay in their offering was to be taken into account…
Finding the boy was easy.
“Sukuna-sama desires your presence. Appear before him at once.”
Thankfully, as much as he wished to protest, Yuji did not argue. He did not gleefully nod either, but one could not be picky. The boy marched toward the shinden, and the pup followed as expected. However, the little one would not be permitted inside for this conversation.
Their master wished to speak with him alone on this unknown matter, leaving Uraume to stand outside the hall’s entrance and stair down its steps. They were to act as a guard against only one person who may show interest in what had sent a disruption of tremors from all their movement. As of right now, it was only the servant and the wolf pup who stood outside within short enough distance to eavesdrop, and Uraume would like to see it remain that way. Hear everything, speak nothing. Should a comment be deemed necessary, speak it and bear the consequences.
“Sit.”
Sukuna had already taken his place, thus he ordered his son to do the same and sit beside him just as he did at the festival. This same positioning with Yuji at their master’s left was also present during their meals. Yuji would often tilt his head right as a result to avoid contact. To avoid one of his father’s secondary eyes gazing down at him. Behavior like that would no longer be tolerated, as evident by the grunts and hissing that came with Sukuna fixing the boy’s posture before he continued with the purpose of his summons.
“I have just received a report from an insignificant village within the land under my claim.”
There was a pause, a moment to give Yuji a chance to process the context from which the rest of his father’s words were to make sense.
“Witless bandits descend upon a village, one of many to raid and ransack as they saw fit. This is not an uncommon occurrence, especially on the roads deep within the wilderness. The capital gloats of peace, yet in truth, there is hardly any beyond their borders, but I am getting off track.”
Sukuna must have turned elsewhere, following the deviation in his thoughts before returning to the boy at his side. Such deviation could not be helped, for this time to be declared peaceful when their master still lived within it. Forget the curses that roamed the hills and stalked the forests and overlook the disarray buried within courtly politics between the sorcerer clans. If there were one thing the commoners would not forget, it was the looming force waiting for the weakest of reasons to begin his rampage anew.
“Cries of hunger as winter approaches lead to desperation. Pleas for forgiveness and requests for something to be done about those who took what was rightfully mine now fall on my ears. Yet my heart is not particularly swayed in what direction I should act. I cannot allow this transgression to go unanswered, or else the foolish thought of repeating the same stunt may breed in the heads of others.” To not meet such imprudent action in kind would showcase a weakness Sukuna would never permit. His borders were avoided for good reason. Only the rash and foolish crossed, and even then, there would be no excuse for any ignorant conduct that may follow. There is no one alive today that does not know their master’s name. “Punishment is in order, but to whom? The bandits who raided the village would require tracking. Chased down and gutted like the other animals hunted during this season. But let us not forget that it was the village’s weakness that allowed them to be attacked in the first place. With the survivors still licking their wounds, they may as well be as good as dead as far as usefulness is concerned. Culling their weakness as a message to the others to avoid emulating their folly would certainly be just as effective.”
Uraume could not have explained their master’s reasoning any better.
“Are you asking me… to choose?” The boy asked, his voice forced to keep a dull and tempered tone. It would not last long.
“Yes. Your perspective intrigues me. You gaze upon my violent actions as senseless, but there is reason behind it. There is always a point to be made, even if your morals disagree.”
“Why—”
“And before you question me, do not try to argue for an exception to be made.” Sukuna would not permit the boy any objection. “There will be no forgiveness. No turning of the other cheek. The matter we are discussing will not be overlooked, no matter how much you desire it. Who to slaughter? Who to spare? If you are unwilling to decide, I will simply lay waste to all parties involved.”
“But why?” Yuji ignored whatever blatant gesture was present to keep him from questioning his father’s intent. “Why punish village? They are your people!”
“They were weak. I do not grant safe harbor within my domain to weaklings.” Safe harbor was a loose description. It was not necessarily wrong, but the sanctuary that many found after swearing loyalty to their master was merely an effect of Sukuna’s presence. By settling down in one place for a lengthy period of time, Sukuna’s cursed energy had begun to seep into the very earth his estate was built upon. This ever-present aura deterred weaker cursed spirits and those with ill intent to reconsider entering, though there were always exceptions. “I may rule over them, but their lives mean nothing beyond acting as pieces for a game I am beginning to grow tired of.”
“Do you… have to kill?” It was so simple, almost innocent in nature if the boy’s words did not sound so defeatist. Already aware of the answer that lay before him, Yuji asked regardless, still grasping to a sliver of hope that there was a chance that his father’s answer would defy expectations.
“The message sinks deeper when written in blood.”
It did not.
“Does it bother you that much to decide life and death?” Casual mockery came next, antagonizing his son to rile him up. Sukuna searched for the passionate ferocity, yet would scorn the disrespect that came of it. A constant push and pull between them that would never cease if he could help it. “Do you loathe the thought that much, even in a conversation such as this?”
“No one should…” Frustrated at the lack of coherency and unable to use his own words as a substitute, Yuji gave up. He did not find his counterargument worth explaining. Not when he could not do it well. Instead, he returned to the initial question his father posed. “How many people? Both sides. Bandit and village.”
“A game of numbers then, is that it? Just like the festival.”
“No. I want…” The tremble in Yuji’s words often led to the biting of his lip. His posture would not suffer, however, as he was only willing to show so much of how Sukuna’s words affected him. “Must know how many prayers to speak.”
Sukuna clicked his tongue. The care his son showed for others, even in death, was so unlike him.
“The village holds less than fifty survivors. It is estimated that the bandits double that size, considering they come from their own settlement over the mountain.” A settlement that may have their own vulnerable populations, no different from a village. “They believe their local Kami can protect them. Yet that same being saw to their suffering by doing nothing for their drought. Is it not amusing?”
“I hope they are right.” His father’s chuckling went ignored. “Your people… You do not care. I do. Protection first. Attacking them… Is attacking you. Punish the bandits for disrespect.”
“And you are content with that decision?”
“No.” The boy answered truthfully. “I am not.”
“I see. And what if I were to order you to be the one to hunt them down? You could even bring your pet.” The wolf pup’s presence was no consolation prize. It was one thing to speak of an atrocity, another to commit it with one’s own hands.
“I would have no choice.” Yuji was correct. Sukuna’s word was law. “Defying you… You would kill them all. You do what you please.”
“So you are capable of learning? If you can call it that.” A disgusted sneer came next.
The boy gave the right answer, but something about it was still wrong. Was it his delivery? His expression? Was he speaking through clenched teeth and his ever-tightening fists? The sincerity of his acceptance was now in question. Even if he understood what his father wished, the act of following through may not come as easy or at all.
“Will you make me now?” Anger reverberated from those words. Disdain, almost threatening his father to give the order. The tension between them continued to rise, both releasing an aura of cursed energy intent on stoking the flames. Sukuna must find the act enjoyable. Was it at all similar to his banter with Kenjaku?
But just as father and son were about to step past beyond the point of no return, it was Sukuna who reeled back. It was by his act that he continued to assert control.
“No. That matter was resolved long before your arrival.”
Uraume had thought the scenario sounded familiar. Their master had used an attack from the previous year as an example. A test. The masses were not immune to repeating their stupidity, so they would have to be forgiven for believing the same thing would happen again and so soon.
“Why ask me this!?” Yuji shot up from his seat, shaking the shinden’s foundation with his shouting. The wolf pup’s ears had shot up with him. One glare from Uraume was all it took to keep the little beast from moving out of place.
“Whatever is going on to cause such a stir?”
Uraume’s glare shifted to the sorcerer approaching the shinden’s steps. They did not need to speak their warning, nor did they wish to give one. Interrupting Sukuna now would be a death sentence regardless of who stepped through the doors. Kenjaku seemed to hold at least some awareness of that, which was why he took a seat on the second step and simply waited for their master to finish.
It was not his fault that the exchange inside could be heard from afar. Once again, Uraume would say something, but even closing screens would only worsen the situation further. So long as the sorcerer wasn’t speaking his mind where it was not requested, there was nothing more that could be done.
“I was curious. Your morality amuses me. I wish to ask you more questions like this, and perhaps in the future, they will not simply be hypothetical.” Sukuna’s response left the boy insulted. Unease would hover over him, left to wonder when the latter part of his explanation would come. “I found a role for you while you are here. A way to toy with your broken philosophy until that stalwart defiance breaks. The burden of choice and the blame that will follow, can you endure it? How long until it breaks, or you?”
“Is there… What else do you want?” Yuji must want nothing more than to leave.
“I did receive a message today which sparked my memory of this tale. A recent… issue that may require the expunging of a cursed spirit from a nearby lake. While I may find the entire settlement not worth the effort— You hold little reservation fighting curses, do you not?”
“I know… There is— There is purpose in killing curses.”
Purpose?
“We leave at dawn.” Sukuna accepted his answer. He was preparing to leave if his steps were anything to go by, but before dismissing the boy and departing from the shinden, a low growl preceded a relatively quiet warning. “And you will behave if you want any chance to speak. Step out of line, and I will respond in a way that I see fit to the summons instead. Understood?”
“Yes.”
Their master must be standing over him. Too close for comfort, the next pause was given as a chance for Yuji to correct himself. A chance he would not take, forcing Sukuna to strengthen whatever grip he held on his body and demand he fix his woeful mistake.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, father.” Yuji was tossed against the ground. He did not curse nor scream in pain. Either the act was not as damaging as it could have been, or he fought to save what little face he had left.
“Good boy.”
“Uraume,” Sukuna called out to his most loyal, beckoning them to correct their posture and be at his side when their master stepped out on the shinden. The delivered letter was still in his hand, now being offered to Uraume, granting them the necessary information to fulfill his subsequent request. “Make the necessary preparations for our trip. See that the brat is dressed accordingly.”
“Making another appearance so soon?” Kenjaku’s fan fluttered about over his face. A second comment was left entirely unspoken, but Uraume could glean from his eyes what he so desperately wished to add: How will it fair compared to the autumn harvest festival?
“You will not be following along.” While he was away, Sukuna would not have Kenjaku as a companion or the sole living soul in this estate. The risk was too great. The chance for annoyance was too high. “I expect you to vacate this estate by sundown.”
“You are no fun. Obtaining a child has ruined you.”
“Enough nonsense. Get out of my sight.”
“Gladly.” Kenjaku huffed. “It looks like I have a child to console.”
Console was not the right word to describe what his presence would bring, but Uraume did not say anything. It was Sukuna who could object. If he would not, then Yuji was capable of telling Kenjaku off. As of right now, Uraume’s responsibility was to gather their master’s things. They had been right to suspect that they would be traveling north, and given the distance, an overnight stay was to be expected.
Notes:
ヾ(*´ ∇ `)ﾉ Hooray for the weekend! <3
I'm still ANGERED that I did not get to writing the father-son trip itself after two chapters of putting it off. I blame Kenjaku. He keeps shoving his face into every conversation. We need to get a restraining order!Notes:
-Sato! (Suggested by my friend Rosey) The name means Sugar. Sugar is generally associated to be white, with variations of brown, so as far as looks are concerned it fits the pup quite nicely. I felt that naming the dog directly after Megumi's (dubbed Shiro) would be like a curse subjecting the poor baby to the same fate, which I think Yuji would agree. Sato also pays tribute to Satoru, Yuji's white-haired sensei. :3
-Yuji's name meaning general has positive connotations wherever you look. It's an old name, though the specific meaning derived from the kanji used is not something Uraume would be aware of. I am still tied to the belief that Ryomen Sukuna's name is not a name, but rather a title. (I'll still use the Ryomen to represent a clan/surname from time to time, but that's a deliberate choice instead of coming up with something new.) Gege has stated that JJK Sukuna and IRL Sukuna are not one and the same. Maybe there is something more to it? We may never know in canon, but I like to speculate and have fun with it. I also love that Uraume is just "You want to talk about me? No, thanks. But I'll speak volumes on Sukuna-sama the moment I get the chance."
-The concept of lords & vassals (to my limited knowledge) weren't more defined until the Kamakura period but the groundwork was present by the end of the Heian period. I thought to use the term vassal to describe those under Sukuna's rule, but I wasn't sure about it, so I nixed it. I'm always playing a little fast and loose with my historical fantasy politics so I hope I can be forgiven. :D
-Uraume mistaking the red hair splotch on their modern counterpart for an accidental ink splotch was a small detail I thought was neat. I'm curious why their hair is like that? Could it be a reference to how they died/became a cursed object?
-Additionally, fans have pointed out similarities between OG Sukuna and Wasuke's facial features, which always had me curious. Like, we know that Jin was incarnated to make Yuji, but does the Itadori bloodline have any connection to Sukuna in canon? I wanna know!!!
-The irony that The Golden Age of Jujutsu is also the Era of Peace never fails to make me laugh. SUKUNA IS RIGHT THERE! Like yes, I'm aware that in the boring real world, it was considered a peaceful age (at least for the nobility) and those who didn't know sorcery or curses may agree, but let's be real, the Heian Era was wild in JJK canon.
I think everyone is just in denial. >.<
-Sukuna is really playing with his food when it comes to Yuji. He's taking his time and, excuse my silliness, letting him cook. XD Bringing Yuji to fight a curse is also the perfect chance to see him in action while not fighting himself. I wonder what he'll want to see? hehe The lake they are going to... there are a couple not *too* far from the IRL Sukuna Shrine found in Gifu, but I am unsure which one I want to use as reference. I may just make up my own, it all depends on what I find.That should be all! I was really mad I didn't add the actual trip into this chapter, but then this update would be WAY too long compared to the last one. My weird brain would get upset.
Happy weekend everyone! Take care of yourselves and see you next time!
Chapter 7: Shrine Had Been Engraved In His Body
Notes:
Apologies for the increase in rating.
The one shot only deserved a T rating, but as the story went on, I found an M rating more suitable.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Their master had requested that his son be dressed in additional layers for their trip. One for insulation against the cold, and another to act as something presentable should his current top layer be put at risk. The request was made with the expectation of a fight and the lack of faith in the boy to keep himself clean and orderly. Uraume would argue something along the lines of bundling him up out of care, but they had no evidence to support anything beyond practicality, and thus, they kept their mouth shut.
A hunt was on the horizon. As such, a Kariginu would act as the best jacket to travel in. Loose and light, Uraume added some padding underneath the outermost layer of maroon to offer mild protection against a physical altercation. While it was a sorcerer’s cursed energy that shielded their body from most harm, it never hurt to be prepared. Unlike his father, who rarely wore anything above the waist, Yuji kept his top covered and showed a more significant reaction to the changing temperatures in the air. One would rather focus his full attention on the task at hand.
His robes were patterned, naturally. A sign of rank. A gold shippo pattern had been chosen by his father either as a joke or an acknowledgment of the boy’s position within his worldview. A layer of burnt orange poked out underneath the cuts of the sleeves, and a simple black layer poked out under that, though it was mostly seen in the boy’s hakama, which shared the same color. The koromo wo kazuku accessory from his previous public appearance remained. Black instead of white, not only did it blend with his clothes more fittingly, but it sat on his head better now that his hair had grown out quite a bit since he’d first arrived. The added length kept the messy spikes from forming once combed out. Allowed to fall wherever it pleased, Uraume had to refrain from suggesting that Yuji brush it back as his father did with his own hair in fear of a rebellious stunt. Losing all that new growth would be such a shame.
If their master noticed a similarity, he did not speak it. He was far too pleased with not having to drag the boy out of his quarters for this trip. Previous excitement that had come with leaving the estate had all but vanished, yet the boy did not sulk nearly as much as Uraume had anticipated. The presence of his bestial companion surely had something to do with it. Sukuna had not objected to the wolf pup following along. He would not slow down for the little one to catch up, either.
“Control your mutt.” Was a reminder that Sukuna barked only once when the pup ran off. Every new sight, sound, and smell was too tantalizing for the pup to ignore, forcing Yuji to give chase and carry the tempted beast back to the main road they followed.
Not once would Yuji respond to his father with words of his own. Not once would his eyes linger for too long, but instead, he used Uraume as a means to keep track of his distance in order to avoid falling too far behind. He was also more mindful of where he walked, though carrying the squirming pup in his arms defeated the purpose of avoiding hazards on the road.
Oh, well.
At least he was trying.
“Yuji-sama, do not carry the pup. It will have to learn to follow or bear the consequences.” Uraume would certainly be dusting him off and cleaning him up before they crossed into their destination proper. There would be no insults whispered based on the superficial and the avoidable. “I am certain it knows your scent well.”
“Sato.” The boy corrected. It was bound to happen, as he tended to flinch whenever Uraume refused to acknowledge otherwise.
“My apologies.” Uraume turned back and lowered their head ever so slightly. “Sato knows your scent well.”
The gesture was enough for Yuji to lower the pup down and have a bit more faith. Faith that would be rewarded, but not before their master let out a scoff in response to their exchange.
His son, in turn, did not risk speaking out of place. Retaliation came in the form of a silent gesture. A tongue stuck out just out of what he believed to be his father’s view.
Names were becoming a particularly sore subject once again.
Uraume had refrained from reporting many things about the young master. Due to there being so much to learn, a reference to compile information based on relevancy for when the time for an uninterrupted report had prevailed. Recent impertinent ears had made it difficult to carry out their duty to disclose any recent findings, but speaking the boy’s true name aloud was something they deemed worthwhile.
Itadori Yuji.
The surname of his clan remained unfamiliar. Sukuna showed no reaction to it. The lack of anything to say initially was… off-putting. As time went on, their master showed no care for the name at all. He refused to acknowledge it, just as he did with the boy’s given name. His son was a brat— his brat —and nothing more.
A river guided their travel north, weaving a path through the deciduous wood across the region’s uneven landscape. Water flowed without pause, roaring through the otherwise tranquil space until the river stretched outward on either side. From a few reasonable skips across should large boulders align just right to act as footing to an unappealing plunge to get across, the river's mouth was nearly triple the width of its body and twice as deep, going deeper still as it emptied out into a hefty basin.
Converging many paths into one, this lake gathered water from the Hida mountains before beyond siphoned down a single, grand channel that continued its descent into the southwest valley. Built over the shoreline and raised just enough to remain dry even during the flood season, the village, by the opening of that channel, was where their destination lay. That single river held most of the people’s bounty. But the lake itself could not be overlooked, as it was just as prosperous. Not only in resources, but in its very location. Those passing through these waters would answer to those living in the village, who, in turn, answered to Sukuna.
The people here, their continued presence along the surface of these waters was an extended courtesy, so long as they paid their dues. Offerings of fish were scheduled meticulously, just as other goods from other settlements, to keep their lord’s stomach full and mood content.
There was no noble to corral them in action, but an elder who taught his hunters and fishermen well. A gruff and hearty man too stubborn to let the years take him. Their tradition spread from one generation to the next. He and his men held pride in their skills, but humble in words, knowing their boasting would surely lead to tongues cut out for the absence of any offering this season. The kitchen stores were nearly empty. Uraume was none too pleased to report this in the days preceding the arrival of their messenger.
“It is an honor for you to grace us with your presence, King of Curses.” The village elder spoke on the village’s behalf. His words came out stilted, as their purpose was to play his designated role in the exchange and nothing more. “We cannot apologize enough for making this request. This humble village expresses our thanks—”
“You are not at liberty to provide any proper show of gratitude, or else I would not be here.”
The elder did not object. He was not foolish enough to believe that anything but action would return their settlement into Sukuna’s good graces.
“Those birds…” Yuji had already begun tuning out their greetings, distracted by the winged creatures in the same fashion as the pup beside him. Large black bird with golden beaks flocked to take their place among the crowd as summoned in equal standing to the fishermen they perched on. If it weren’t for the men accompanying the creatures, the little Sato would have already given chase. “There are so many.”
“They are umiu, young master. The fishermen of this village have them trained to work alongside them and retrieve ayu from the water. Their season should be at an end, yet they’ve caught very little compared to previous years.” Uraume spoke quietly into the boy’s ears. Unfortunately, their exchange would not avoid causing an interruption as they had hoped.
“And why is it?” Their master had paused first to scold the boy for interruption, then to listen to Uraume’s explanation for his confusion. It was the latter half of the servant’s words that steered his intent back toward the elder and his men.
“As explained in the summons,” A younger man, the elder’s on, stepped forward to speak in his father’s place. His impudent beginning did nothing to save him from the poor first impression, but he insisted on speaking further. “There is a cursed spirit lurking in our waters. First in the lake, now it has followed boats downstream. It scares our birds and threatens to capsize our boats. Two men just—”
Quick to chastise his son, the elder raised his hand and beckoned for silence. A tempered glare between them ensured that it would remain. The elder then gestured toward the docks, as he would rather show Sukuna what manner of spirit had encroached into his domain than explain it.
Whispers flowed as they followed. It would seem that whisper was all most crowds were good for. Women and children clung to the shaded corners of their homes, hiding within as if a building would stop Sukuna should their master take offense. Yuji could not help but gawk back at them. Most surprising was the brief exchange he made with the little one peeking through the legs of his father. Sukuna had taken several steps ahead by this point, eyes already on the boats they were to board, leaving his son enough time to wave his hand with a light tremble to his fingers without a comment to be made on it.
The child was ushered away quickly. Who knows what would be said about a child catching the fancy of Sukuna’s spawn? Even if on a whim, the tiniest of actions were certain to ripple outward, no different from any pebbled Uraume happened to kick into the lake.
Three boats were commandeered for their escort downriver. One is for Sukuna, Yuji, the village elder, and his son. Uraume would take another, joined by the wolf pup, who could not be trusted to be left ashore. The eagerness to follow Yuji where he went was commendable enough that Uraume did not mind lifting their foot should the little pup tumble over from the unfamiliar rocking sensation of their transportation. No one of importance stood on the third boat. A small group of fisherman were simply requested to follow along and keep their eyes and ears sharp to cover what the others could not see.
“You allowed this intruder to persist for over half the season?” Sukuna scowled, at least one eye assessing the water at all times.
“Not everyone here possesses eyes that see what we can.” The elder’s words were more akin to an excuse than an explanation. However, nothing he stated was wrong. “The aptitude for sorcery is still rare, even among my brothers and our children. I can teach all I can, but no one can change that fact.”
Few things in this world were consistently perfect. One bad fishing day with little yields would not be noticed. The cursed spirit disturbing the waters would not be seen if it remained hidden in the deep. A few more stagnant days would be worrying, but nothing out of the ordinary, should a better day come soon to offset the misfortune. That better day never occurred. The cursed spirit would grow restless as the fishermen continued to tease the surface of its newly claimed home. And as the elder would go on to describe, the attacks on their birds and rattling of the fishermen’s boats were the result of a slow escalation.
“The lake and river are deep in these parts. The movement of the cursed spirit stirring below kept the fish scattered and too timid to surface, while our birds would often be caught in a frenzy.”
“And you expect me to deal with this problem for you?”
“If one of us were capable of combating something of this caliber, I assure you, I would not have requested aid.” The elder is coarse in his response. He knows his place and knows to bow his head, but his bite is still sharp. Far from a meek man, he had earned his place among his people beyond the respect tradition would demand of someone his age.
Sukuna was fond enough of him for that reason. The agreement between this settlement and he has been in place the longest out of any other. They have tolerated one another for so long that it was to be expected. If only the elder’s son knew not to rock the proverbial boat, then his people may continue to thrive without severe consequences.
“The fact that you requested aid is insulting enough.” Their master refused to stand any longer, choosing to settle within the boat as comfortably as he could in spite of his stature. It was up to the other occupants to keep themselves balanced as he did. What had once been a somewhat interested expression had turned into boredom. This task was beneath him. “I will not be relieving you of the curse plaguing your waters.”
“But—”
With a raised hand, Sukuna moved to hush the elder’s impudent son before he could even begin. The angle of his fingers and the spark of his cursed energy suggested a particular thought had crossed his mind. One his own son knew very well, as did the elder, seeing the silent threat to be a grave one with severe consequences to match.
“The little songbird will. He is itching to do you all a generous service.” A bit taken aback by the sudden stage propped under the boy’s feet, the head of their master’s son snapped Sukuna’s way. The order for Yuji to approach was unnecessary at this point, but Sukuna made it clear with his words that the curling finger gesturing for him was not optional. “Come here.”
Yuji did as he was told, shuffling closer until he was standing over his father’s head. As a consequence of bad posture, Uraume would make no verbal comment. Their master was quick to grab his son’s collar and drag him down into a bow, his next few words directed to him and him alone.
“Pretend to be upset all you want, but I can see your eagerness clearly. Bloodlust. You can sense the cursed spirit under the surface, can you not?” One hand reached over the side of the boat, pointing toward the culminating mass of negative energy below. The presence of those harboring a force to oppose this cursed spirit had stirred it awake, curious. “Since you are naturally opposed to my preference for handling this, I am giving you an opportunity to deal with the disturbance your way. However, there is a catch. You will exorcise that cursed spirit with Dismantle since it is the simplest of Shrine’s techniques to execute. There will no longer be doubt of your lineage after.”
“I can’t do that—” Yuji was quick to stammer his refusal, but it was a pointless endeavor. Nothing he could say would convince Sukuna otherwise.
“You are more than capable. Continue to hide it from me, and I may be forced to give a demonstration, starting with the pup, and then… I will be sure to let you decide the order from there.”
Uraume had expected Yuji to be angry—Aghast. If not outright, then his body language spoken by both his fists and the way his face contorted his veil very so slightly would give him away. But nothing changed. If Uraume were to guess, then his face had embodied an unmoving annoyance. A tired, worn expression that required little when the emotion had clawed its way so deep.
Having grown a bit numb to his father’s cruelty, Yuji had expected his father’s gift to eventually be held over his head. He prepared for it. And while the eventual context would certainly vary, this order his father had given was not one that strictly opposed the boy’s morals. Confirmation of his secret was the consequence. Nothing further— As of right now, of course.
There were far worse ultimatums.
And thus, Yuji did not protest. He did not speak either, prompting Sukuna to subject the pair and the onlookers surrounding them to an uncomfortable silence until spoken acceptance of his role was given. The whole ordeal was quite the awkward one, considering both were too stubborn to relent until the wolf pup let out a yip in time, and the fishermen’s birds took to the air without the order to do so. The waters had been calm this whole time, yet the whole flock had been spooked.
“Yes, father.”
And with those simple words, their master was satisfied. Satisfied enough to release the boy from his hold, offering a false moment of relief before shoving him off the boat and into the freezing river below. Yuji was caught by surprise. Completely submerged by the way of his entry, the veil upon his head floated into view, bopping about along the waves caused by the boy’s flailing upon resurfacing. Uraume was able to scoop it up with ease, choosing to hold onto it as they listened to Yuji shouting the nonsensical sounds of whichever language he preferred to curse his father thrice over.
“Hate! Hate you!” This was all that Uraume could make out from his shouting. This meant the onlookers understood this part as well, a bit unnerved by the boldness of Yuji’s disrespect. But Sukuna would pay them no mind. He still found them charming.
“I expect nothing less. Now get on with it, prince.” Their master sneered, waving him on to find his own means on how to bring the cursed spirit to the surface for their battle to take place.
Yuji leered his father’s way one last time, eyes quickly darting toward Uraume as if they were enabling in some regard. They did not know what to express in response. Any word would be out of place. Any look… indifference was key at a time like this. And with a grand inhale of air, the boy dove into the abyss below without any further delay.
Silence overtook the crowd in fearful anticipation. No one knew what to expect or where it would be safe to stand. Would the boy emerge immediately, or would the battle below be a long and drawn-out one? Uraume would admit to their own mild uncertainty, but their master would show no sign of concern. It was not strictly confidence in Yuji’s abilities. It was a refusal to believe that anyone he claimed to be his of his own lineage would fall to a lowly river spirit. There would be no greater insult, considering the boy’s actions would reflect on his father.
The first clash brought tremors with it. A muted burst against one’s ears. The faint appearance of bubbles began their ascent to the surface.
The second clash rocked the boats. A current had formed in a reverse cyclone, ripples growing stronger as everything was shoved to the edges of the boy’s aquatic arena.
Sensed by those able, the erratic fluctuations of cursed energy did more to relay what was happened than anything observed by the naked eye. Waves crashed about, water taking the uncanny appearance of hands grasping at whatever surface it came into contact with. While the fishermen clung to whatever they could, and Uraume brought whatever water came close to a frozen halt in search of stability, Sukuna did nothing. Through sheer determination, his refuge in the water remained in place.
Moments like these, as simple as they were, continued to solidify Uraume’s adoration for the one they chose to devote everything to.
The third clash was not between Yuji and his prey, but of a geyser of water breaking through the river's turbulent surface. Within its center was a looming shadow, eclipsing the sun briefly after its return arc toward the earth.
The cursed spirit was a grotesque thing, as many often were. Its upper boy was that of a long fish— an ayu in coloration, but strangely like char in shape —with two bulging eyes flickering about in every direction where there was movement to follow. The neck was too long, too straight, leaving it to appear as if it was leaning backward to gaze toward the heavens, blinded by the woven hat stuck to its head. A pattern of black orbs encircled the base of the cursed spirit’s neck to separate it from the lower body. What could be found below was human only in shape, as its smooth-scaled limbs contorted into the mockery of hands and feet.
With the malformed and rotten branch in its hand, the cursed spirit swiped at the river’s surface to send a surge of water to capsize one of the more inconsequential boats. Yuji had yet to show himself. Visible gashes in the cursed spirit’s face were present, but healing with each moment passed, as the accursed fish stood on the river’s edge with feet in the shallows, attempting to intimidate through sheer height alone. The water moved to its command, defying its natural tendencies to create rigid, contorted shapes within the air while never truly stabilizing. A bulging eye had locked onto Sukuna, understanding their master to be the most tremendous force here to oppose or die underfoot.
But once again, Sukuna did nothing. Said nothing. He barely acknowledged the cursed spirit’s appearance beyond his silent observation.
Uraume did not care for how much time had passed. Yuji should have resurfaced. If not to continue the fight, then to come up for air. He’s shown on previous occasions that he required air like any other. How was he sustaining himself otherwise? The boy’s cursed energy had become scattered and muted all the same. In the midst of it all, Uraume could not pinpoint his location.
Just as the cursed spirit brought its staff into each of its hands, gripping the wood on both ends to command its culminating cursed energy into its next attack, an unexpected development broke through its concentration… And its stomach.
Black lighting cackle off the cursed spirit’s scales and into the air, pouring out a deluge of cursed energy from its wound in a violent eruption. Uraume had raised a hand to shield themselves, and subsequently, the barking little Sato was still at their feet, but it was mostly unneeded as the one who tore through the creature inside and out was Yuji!
Covered in the viscera oozing off his ragged body to seep back into the earth, their master’s son crawled out of the cursed spirit’s flesh and stumbled onto land. There was little way to tell that the blood Uraume saw was his own. He showed no sign of severe damage. All limbs accounted for. His attire was beyond drenched. Whatever hadn’t been fallen and lost clung to his skin, desperate to remain in place. The topmost layers had been shredded, clinging together loosely by what threads were too stubborn to break.
No time was taken to catch his breath or check his footing. The momentum that had carried him forward now fueled his next swing as he spun around and charged the cursed spirit intent on collapsing its entire weight on him. Twice over, the boy slammed his fist into the creature, those same sparks returning without room for mercy in his gaze now turned to stone.
Three in a row, cursed energy enveloped in a flash of black lightning without break.
It was only natural that the cursed spirit would fall. There would be no defense that a creature of its caliber could muster to absorb the power of his strikes.
Its body fell onto the banks with grace no better than a lump of flesh plopped onto a cutting board. Yuji stood over his prey, head down and unwilling to engage with any onlooker, as he climbed onto the cursed spirit’s back and sat himself down atop it. Only then would he raise his chin and look over the crowd. Only then would he breathe again, one hand brushing away his hair while another mimicked his father’s loosely cross-legged pose with his feet. A grin stretched his smile wide once his eyes met his father’s, though it quickly fell when Sukuna’s silent insistence opposed Yuji’s desire to declare this fight already over.
The cursed spirit had yet to be exorcised.
The desired technique had not been executed.
Yuji knew this. He gave a reluctant sigh, then placed his palm against the cursed spirit’s flesh. He listened to its labored breaths for a time, his own almost matching its rhythm, until his cursed energy flared to life. A web of lines sparked dotted trails across the cursed spirit’s body, broken up by the depiction of sheers in equidistant repetition. One word was all it took for those lines to break, clean and precise, tearing through what remained of the spirit until there was nothing left of its core to sustain itself. Its body melted away, the smallest globs of its flesh turning to dust in the wind upon fading into absolute nothingness.
That was not the Dismantle Uraume knew.
By chance, there was a rock beneath where Yuji had sat. He landed upon his new seat without being unsettled, able to once again bask in his victory despite giving into his father’s demands.
It would stand to reason that Sukuna would be pleased by the display. His son had done what was asked of him and exceeded expectations by showing off not one, not two, but three strikes empowered beyond his usual limit.
But something had caused Sukuna’s expression to darken as he climbed out of the elder’s boat. While others were gathering their bearings and helping those capsized back to land, their master approached his son. Tension rose in the air when there should have been excitement and celebration. Uraume was hesitant to follow, wading around on the outskirts of what would be deemed personal space to avoid unnecessary hovering.
“What have you done to my technique?” Sukuna growled at him, gesturing to the few fissures that had spread onto the ground upon Yuji’s activation of Dismantle. It was not that he did not know why the technique manifested the way it had. The region and culture one was born within can shape one's understanding of the world and the energy that flows through it. An individual’s concept of their power will shape it in different ways. Truly, the odd patterns that appeared before the invisible blades manifested were a consequence of that. Their master had almost certainly found whatever evolution of Shrine he’d witnessed to be inferior. Or, at least, unappealing.
Now, in response to Sukuna’s question, Yuji scowled back. The boy didn’t and shouldn’t expect anything of praise from his father. Rarely did Sukuna offer it. Rarer still would such praise come out as genuine. Regardless, Yuji grew angry.
Yuji shouted back a question of his own. A question in assumption only, as he chose to vent his frustrations in a language his father did not know. His continued choice to do this was… Uraume wasn’t sure why he spoke as he did . Perhaps the ease of access for his thoughts to become spoken word or an assumption of a lesser punishment should Sukuna not know what insults were hurled his way.
What would be said of the boy who spoke nonsense? Would they assume he is of foreign origin, just as they had initially suspected? Or would he be dubbed mad, as his father was often painted to be? His early display of strength would not be without rumor as well. His emergence from the water would be far too memorable to go unspoken.
All Sukuna did, in turn, was to cross his upper set of arms and continue to push for an explanation. The lack of outward expression did not mean the same could be said for what lay out of view. After another thought spewed forth from Yuji’s lips, the boy realized his error and calmed himself.
No apology for the outburst would follow.
“Dismantle,” Yuji began, speaking quietly to avoid his words carrying to the crowd at large. “It is… cutting. Like paper. Uh, crafts? For children to follow the line—”
He attempted to give another example, as at this point, there was no more hiding that Shrine had been engraved in his body as Kenjaku asserted it to be. Previous coordination the boy showcased faded as he moved to reach for a stone on the ground. His hands were shaking. The initial battle high fading, leaving his body grasping for a quick recovery.
“You are equating the elegance and precision of the blade to literal child’s play?”
“No!?”
In terror, the group watched father and son continue to shout at one another. Both would use Dismantle again, arguing over effectiveness while comparing the two against the unfortunate trees closest to them. One was used by a novice, while the other had honed the technique over years of testing and adjusting in search of perfection. That need to laugh found its way into Uraume’s throat, though they were wise enough not to do so.
“The curse plaguing your lands has been vanquished,” Uraume announced to the village elder who had joined their side. He observed Sukuna and Yuji with a grim expression, though he could not deny the relief that came with seeing their problem solved. “Not without… collateral.”
“I had anticipated a worse outcome.” The elder admitted, his stance remaining firm. Vigilant. The cursed spirit was dealt with, but his guests were a greater threat than it could ever be. With him, a woman had followed a few paces behind, carrying towels, blankets, and a possible change in attire should the boy require it. “None of my people were caught in the crossfire, and a single boat can be easily repaired. A few trees, in addition to all that, will be future lumber. The Prince Of Curses… I wish to thank him personally for his effort.”
“You may do so over a feast. I have no doubt that the battle had left his stomach yearning.” The day was nearly at an end. Uraume could already pick out the orange and purple hues beginning to take shape as the sun continued its descent. Their comment had made it clear that Sukuna intended to stay the night, and the village was supposed to accommodate him and his party accordingly.
Fortunately, there would be no objection.
“I have already sent word back to the village. Despite our recent shortcomings, we will prepare what we can. If he is anything like his father… To think there are two of them!”
“It is a surprise to all who hear of it.” A hint of a smile appeared on Uraume’s face. But, as amusing as it was to poke fun at their own reaction to Yuji’s initial appearance in their lives, all good things must come to an end. It was their duty to inform Sukuna of the preparations ahead and, hopefully, see that tempers did not flare any higher than necessary in the meantime.
Notes:
Hullo! This chapter was split in half from a much longer original version. The second half will come in a day or so. (wishful thinking!) I am unsure how long it will be. I have a huge conversation mostly between Sukuna and Yuji drafted and written, but no descriptions for in between their words. Haha. This trip arc will now be two chapters as a result of this! I also think I've decided on a naming scheme for the chapters, but I'll change it after the next update once I'm sold on it. :3
Notes:
-Kariginu were adopted as Heian Noble attire, considered to be the least formal compared to some others. White Kariginu are often worn for ceremonies. They were also the preferred attire for hunting, which was why Yuji was dressed in one here, since they were on a trip to hunt a cursed spirit. Patterns on noble Kariginu were allowed to be worn of those of higher rank. The Shippo pattern I chose was a common one from the era and represents the Seven Treasures of Buddhism [A wish for harmony and prosperity, which the former could be considered ironic haha] I like keeping some black or white in Yuji's attire to reference Sukuna's minimalist palette.
-Ukai is an ancient fishing method that can be found in Gifu for the last 1300 years in which the fishing master uses umiu (also known as cormorants) to catch Ayu (aka sweetfish). A lot of Gifu prefecture overlaps with the boarders of the Hida Province of Sukuna's origin, so I tend to look toward Gifu for inspiration. The actual village and the lake/river reference here has no IRL equivalent and was created for the fic.
I may or may not have snuck in some fishing/water puns in the narration. I could not help it. It's just who I am!
-I find having Sukuna & Yuji continue to come across Parent/Child pairs an interesting thing. I don't know. The possible parallels / differences tend to scratch my brain real nicely. Like the noble and daughter from before, the village elder and son have no names, simply because Uraume would not bother to care about them. I kinda of get Wasuke vibes from the elder, but I don't know?
-Sukuna pushing Yuji into the water without warning is such a dad/uncle move, I cannot stop thinking about it. XD
-The cursed spirit I created for this encounter is based on a yokai known as the Iwana bōzu which also has a legend that originates from Gifu! The short of it is that this yokai is a fish who turned into a human in the guise of a priest to ask them to stop overfishing beyond what they need. I tried to blend the grotesque and unnerving elements of JJK cursed spirits while the silly pictures of this yokai I found online. Haha.
I use this website sometimes to look up Yokai for inspiration if you are curious! -> https://yokai.com/iwanabouzu/
I liked how this myth played into the set-up of the cursed spirit's appearance quite nicely. The fishermen were forced to over fish in order to give offerings to Sukuna and still have enough to eat. The negative energy that manifested from that eventually manifested this spirit. Sukuna created the issue he was requested to fix.
-Yuji gets to show off his stuff! Black Flash! Dismantle!
God, I hate fight scenes. I say this all the time, they just aren't my favorite thing to write, but I hope this one came out ok! I cheated a little by having the first half take place under the water and out of sight, but the imagery of this hulking fish monster bursting from the surface and landing like a boss monster was too good to pass up. Then Yuji gets to punch his way out of it!!! WOWZERS! He is not beating the menace/Sukuna mini-me allegations after today. U.U
-Also, see! Little Sato is still alive and well. Uraume is even referring to the pup by name in the narration! :DThat should be all!
I am REALLY hoping my notes for next chapter aren't insane XD Less historical footnotes, more thoughts and HCs. Be we shall see! Thank you all for the kind words in your comments! I'll be taking a small break after this next chapter to more accurately plan out how to wrap up the fic + work on some smaller, more time sensitive things. Until then, take care! <3 <3 <3
Chapter Text
The feast had been suitable.
There were a few comments Uraume had made a mental note of here and there. The eel had been overcooked, while the vegetables weren’t pickled long enough. The rice was a bit too wet, and the soup thinned to taste closer to water, but the presentation was sound. Sukuna, while an esteemed guest and not the direct authority over this village, was still placed where he should be at the back center of the hall. Two rows on either side consisted of his son, then Uraume, while the village elder and his son sat across from them. A few of the fishermen who had been present during Yuji’s battle with the river spirit had been permitted to eat alongside them, but they were given no right to speak.
As long as their master showed no discontent with their meal, then Uraume would not either. However, it was not by his word that judgment was given. For that, Sukuna would defer to his son, who had decided to eat before he did, without hesitation or remorse. Considering the ordeal he had gone through…
“And how is their hospitality treating you?” Sukuna leaned on his palm, withholding the need to scold the boy’s disrespect when it had brought so much anxiety among their hosts.
“Good! Very good!” Muffled from shoveling rice into his cheeks, Yuji rapidly nodded his head before forcing himself to swallow. There had been no treats to steal since the early hours of the morning. He must have been famished. “Food not as good as Uraume-san’s. Still, it’s very good!”
It may not be the most eloquent answer, but in Uraume’s humble opinion, it was the correct one.
Despite eating out of turn, the boy’s etiquette wasn’t as abhorrent as it used to be. His father, as much as they loathed to admit, sported the same terrible habit when it came to eating. But neither was nowhere near as bad as some pigs who dressed in finery and thought to get away from being added to the meal. It was amusing to watch the elder’s son eye Yuji just as a few of the other men did, wondering if he would tear through the back the hitatare gifted to him and reveal a second mouth on his stomach to match his father.
The boy possessed no such thing. There were no additional limbs to speak of.
And speaking of the hitatare, the material used for this layer of finery over the thick kosode offered to the boy when exiting the water was of unusually high quality. Not the highest there was, but it was in better condition than what most commoners were able to wear. A rare sight to see in these remote areas, absent of the politically affluent. The forest green and grayish hue of vine patterns to decorate it was far from faded, and the earthen-toned kosode appeared quite durable.
It would only be later that Uraume learned that Yuji’s attire had belonged to the elder’s son when he was younger. A gift that appeared to still hold some value, which explained why the young man was more restless in his seat than prior visits.
He was fortunate that Yuji did not carelessly disregard the gifts of others. Even with Sukuna, he tended to initially treat such items with care.
Overall, the meal came and went, with conversation only picking up when most of their dishware had been cleared away. Persimmons— most dried, but a fresh few had managed to last to season’s end —had been distributed as a simple, but effective dessert.
“I had my doubts about the validity of your son’s existence. Rumors grow faster than weeds and are far more difficult to control. While his appearance should have been the most convincing factor, his display of ferocity and prowess truly settled it. The young master would make any of the clan heirs envious.” The man’s compliment was not made lightly in the hopes of feeding Sukuna’s ego, but as a mild jab toward his own son. As harsh as such treatment may be, the young man would learn well from it if he wished to command half the respect his father did.
“As he should.” Sukuna agreed with the elder’s assessment. Stomach mouth shamelessly smug in contrast to the serious expression above it. “They do not carry the weight of blood nor my investment in seeing his growth. I do not tolerate weakness.”
There was something about his father’s comment that left Yuji squinting in his direction.
“Weakness would have left him in the river spirit’s stomach.”
“A fitting punishment.”
“I am grateful to see that is not the case.” The elder then turned to Yuji, palms on his knees and head bowed as lower than one would expect a man his age to be comfortably capable with the intent on making do with his desire from earlier. “Young master, your efforts today are appreciated. You have our deepest thanks.”
Yuji nodded his head again, this time in acceptance, only to realize that the man could not see him.
“I—” Yuji fought to clear his throat. To avoid prolonging his discomfort at being thrust continually into the center of attention, he had to be quick. His next few words were not as confident as his elders, but they served their purpose well enough. “It was my duty, and… my honor.”
“Duty and honor?” The elder’s son scoffed under his breath.
Offense was taken by Uraume on the boy’s behalf, but neither their master nor his son chose to acknowledge it. Certainly not, as it would seem the village elder was more than willing to do so himself.
“From my understanding, you’ve lived a sheltered life until now?” Not a comment of judgment, but one of confirmation. When no one spoke to correct him, the elder returned to face Sukuna. “If you permit me, King of Curses, I wish to offer the Prince a tour of our village while there is still light to make use of. My son would be honored to fulfill such an important duty.”
Said son was far from thrilled at the prospect. Yuji’s reaction could not be considered in direct opposition to him, but his ears did perk up at the thought of getting away from the ever-present tension events like these loved to promote.
“You are permitted if the boy wishes it.”
“Yes.” Yuji squeaked his answer out faster than he could clap his hands over his mouth.
“And my servant will accompany him. I have no desire to endure any trouble he may get into.”
“There will be no trouble.” The elder’s son reluctantly proclaimed as he waited to be dismissed from the hall.
The real reason behind indulging in the request was a self one. There were to be no formal talks tonight, as their master wished for casual conversation to facilitate his interrogation of what went on in the greater world. Many passed through these waters with stories to tell, and a perspective beyond a rumor toting gossip was well worth hearing. Moreover, it has been almost three years since Sukuna made a formal visit to this place. There was no telling if there was a fondness for it or a value their master saw beyond what Uraume understood. What Uraume did know was that the respect their master held was enough to keep it standing regardless of circumstances that would ruin any other settlement in a sea of fire and ash.
Both sons were dismissed, and Uraume trailed after them, curiously observing how Yuji would place himself by the young man now acting as his guide. Would he dash forward and demand a direction to explore or walk alongside him as equals? In truth, he chose to awkwardly fall behind the young man, content to be led toward where the other thought interesting.
Initial conversion between the two began just as awkward as their steps. The looks over others as they passed through a few crowded sections left Yuji’s face red. Fear was obvious, but what was more noticeable now was the intrigue. A desire to learn. A chance to understand, considering the boy carried little of the same presence his father did when that bashful smile overtook him completely.
The language barrier, while milder than before, still presented Yuji with a bit of a challenge to speak everything he wished. The lack of clarity of confidence in half his words made him strange. It was easiest for people to attribute this to the background Sukuna did not dispute. A hidden heir was more plausible than a time traveling vessel.
“I never… got your name.”
The thought came without warning, causing the pair to stop upon reaching the village docks.
“The Prince wants this one’s name?” A laugh broke out from the young man’s throat. He did not believe Yuji’s request to be genuine. “You are very funny.”
“I mean it.” Yuji insisted otherwise. “My name is—”
“Young master, I don’t advise you to give your name out so easily. Such a personable thing in the hands of others is not ideal.” Uraume had already put up with Yuji using their name so flippantly, but it was not like it wasn’t shared by association. Just nearly not as often. The matter of his own name should remain a private one if it could be helped. “You have a title for a reason.”
“I have a name. It is Yuji.”
Defiantly, the young master had offered something quite precious. It would be rude now for the elder’s son to deny him a proper offering in kind.
“Takeshi. My name is Takeshi. Do be kind with it.”
“Takeshi.” To Yuji, the name came easily. He smiled as he repeated it, as if it were something familiar that had been lost. “Thank you, Takeshi… dono?”
“Not dono.” The young man shook his head just as Uraume did. The boy’s attempt at honorifics was horribly misunderstood. “Definitely not dono. Only Takeshi.”
“Only Takeshi.” Yuji repeated, laughing as he did. This time, he had intended a joke which would take a second for the other to share. Regardless of the conversation preceding it causing Uraume to grip their forehead, the jovial attitude was a welcome one. “I like it.”
Yuji had thought about ending the statement there, only to realize he hadn’t clarified what he was referring to. He then pointed to the umiu that landed on the young man’s arm.
“Them. I like them. The birds.”
“I would hope so. They are our village’s sacred companions. Each one has been raised from a fledgling to heed our commands as if they were our own flesh and blood.” There was pride in his voice. And a far too casual air, something Uraume would not witness Yuji correcting in the slightest. “They listen far better than that beast does.”
The young man pointed to the little Sato, who had followed them from the elder’s home and then run off toward some children to wrestle with. Too exploratory for his own good, the only thing Yuji’s shouting would do is get the children’s attention and shock them into second-guessing their decision to play.
“Sato is… I try.”
“Are you consistent with your commands?”
They talked about animal training for a bit, exchanging information and advice until Yuji eventually went over and retrieved the little Sato from the small hands that had resumed scratching his stomach. What a spoiled pet the little one was becoming.
Said children had been following Yuji ever since his departure from the village elder’s home. They were poorly trained in the art of stealth. Actually, assuming they had trained at all was a vast overestimation. A group of three, later four, based on the headcount Uraume had done out of the corner of their eye, were worse than their parents in terms of gawking. Their clothes were worse off too, covered in dirt and moisture from crawling around wherever they could fit to get the best vantage point.
Uraume had expected them to skitter off like roaches when caught. To their surprise, Yuji’s gentle approach to the elder’s son had eased any worry they may have had. The wolf’s pup presence as a distraction could not be understated, but even it wouldn’t have kept the children from releasing a few anxious gaps when Yuji crouched down to their level to join in on pampering the beast he’d brought into their village.
If Sukuna were to catch sight of his son now…
“Did you really get eaten by a fish?” The tallest of the children spoke first, more brazen than the rest.
“Not a fish.” The little one beside him corrected the first. “A river spirit!”
The elder’s son attempted to intervene. He was not quick enough, as Yuji had already begun to engage with the children without any reservation.
“Yes.” Yuji held out his hands, first extending outward to denote width, then upward to represent a towering height. With muted excitement, he attempted to match the children’s awe. “By a really big one.”
“Gross!”
Gross? That was the little one’s immediate reaction? And not just the small, messy-haired brat to the left, but the taller one as well. Their faces contorted in disgust. Another stuck their tongue out and pretended to gag. But that didn’t stop Yuji from laughing. Nor did their excitement wane as they decided that now was the perfect time to demand an interrogation when greater authority to fear was not present.
“How did you escape?”
“I punched! Kicked!” The air became Yuji’s combatant. Small punches, hooks, and uppercuts with grunts to match, followed by the most awkward and fumbled kick Uraume had ever seen. It resulted in Yuji landing on his back. Not embarrassed in the slightest, Yuji corrected himself with ease, only to proclaim his victory in the ordeal. “Then I was free!”
The children were easily impressed. They followed his movements and reacted accordingly, demanding more answers as they bombarded Yuji with a chorus of sounds that had Uraume tentatively clutching their ears. But Yuji had no issue. He continued to speak with them, casting away all plans regarding their tour to practice speaking as much as he could. As much as Uraume wished to object… They withheld their responsibility to do so for a little while longer. If only to see that same spark from the time of his portrait sharing return to Yuji’s face.
Eventually, one of the children grabbed Yuji’s leg. A step too far.
“Is it safe to fish again?”
“Should be,” Yuji responded, holding on to the thought before adding. “If not, I will… Fight again! Keep things safe.”
Safe? There was no such thing as safe.
“I believe it is best we keep going, young master.” Uraume called out to him, making it clear it was time to move on. It was not wise to make promises one cannot keep.
Yuji should know better than to get close to others. Not only would his father dislike it— Uraume had witnessed firsthand their master’s possessive streak —Avoiding attempts at bonding would prevent any unwanted feelings and the strain his heart may be put through. The kindest of trials would be the unlikely scenario of another visit in the near future. The more nerve-wracking and potentially painful outcome would be whatever Sukuna intended for the village going forward. Should his father act as expected, which would certainly go against the boy’s morals… But Yuji could not help it. Like with the little Sato, the need to connect and bond with another was just part of who he was.
If he were a diplomat, if Sukuna found use or desire for one, the boy’s friendly charm would have a purpose. But in the world, his father grew in and reigned over? He had to be careful not to give in to such weakness.
Uraume thought that the elder’s son had realized this as well. Whatever animosity the young man held for Yuji had softened slightly. The differences between the King of Curses and his sequestered Prince were becoming more apparent. Out of the two, Yuji would certainly gain the favor of others quickly, but it was not kinship on the young man’s face.
It was pity.
Eventually, the day wound down, and privacy was granted to the esteemed guests gracing the village in their presence. There was no designated building for guests of high standing to sleep in. As such, the village elder gave up his home for the evening, as it was the largest building among the clusters built tightly together. Elevated above the rest by way of grander stilts and use of the uneven terrain shaping a cliff face on parts of the water’s edge, standing outside the main entrance allowed one to view all those who lived below with ease.
Yuji had been given his own quarters, separate from his father. A spacious pavilion connected by way of a roofed bridge. The path was simple, and the distance was not very long, leaving Uraume to guess that if it was not Sukuna who had been visiting, their whole party would have been offered to stay there instead.
The break from his father’s eye was a welcome one. Once pointed in the direction of where he was to lay his head, the boy eagerly walked away with only thanks to be offered to the elder and nothing more. Their master had half a mind to say something, but this time, he let the comment go. As it was too early to turn in for the night, their master would rather Uraume pour him a drink as he mulled over recent events. Kneading and shaping new insight, it was time to reflect on what there was to be gained from it. Then there was the original matter of the original failure, which brought their master here in the first place that needed to be addressed.
In the morning, judgment would be passed.
For now…
“How would you assess my son’s performance?”
With no one else present, the question was directed to Uraume to answer. They will always be master and servant, but on occasion, the line blurred, and Uraume’s counsel was desired. Sake was poured and shared, this time by Sukuna’s hand. For all his adherence to appearances and displays of submission and fealty, Sukuna broke the rules of social convention, just as his son did.
“I would state that his abilities are adept, and his growth is exceptional if what he has told me of his previous tutelage is to be believed. He executed your wishes as requested, and the cursed spirit was dealt with easily.” Uraume accepted their cup, holding it still as they reflected on what they could make out of Yuji’s movements during the fight when he was visible. Praise without humility to a novice offers nothing but stagnation. “He could have dealt with the cursed spirit faster if he’d chosen to use Dismantle first. The restriction to using it last was of his own doing. As was his choice to avoid major collateral damage, thus further lengthening the time required to see his task complete. He fought with the lives of others in mind. If it were only you or I observing, I am confident in assuming this would not have been the case.”
“Always mindful, isn’t he?” There was displeasure in Sukuna’s comment. Disagreeing to ease their master’s feelings would only be lip service.
“That he is.”
The lines that appeared before Dismantle was executed acted as guidelines for the strikes to follow. If there was a set amount of time between their appearance and the slashes that followed, one demonstration was not enough to tell. Regardless, the gap between them acted akin to a warning. A split second. A last change. A final moment to make peace with the inevitable attack to follow. The Dismantle Uraume knew was nothing like that. Simple. Direct. Completely invisible and often used without a tell should Sukuna make an effort to forgo the hand movement often associated with it. Sukuna did not know mercy, thus his technique did not grasp it either.
Uraume took a sip of the sake the elder had provided them. Far more mild than anything they had at home, Sukuna would gain nothing from consuming it aside from easing the habitual motion of seeing a jug emptied.
“I am relieved to see that your technique was inherited, even if it has evolved differently from what you anticipated.” That was Uaume’s conclusion on the matter. “Kenjaku believed that the young master may have inherited more than Shrine. Small things. His understanding of our words, for example.”
Sukuna was not surprised by this revelation. Uraume did not know what Kenjaku had repeated to their master in the many short conversations shared, but it did not hurt to report what they’d heard nonetheless. Many things had gone unsaid as of late. It was time to correct that.
“That sorcerer believes a lot of things, though he has admitted most of it to be speculation.” Uraume continued. “The young master’s cursed energy is… strange. An amalgamation of pieces rather than a consistent center, made singular. His acquisition of Blood Manipulation is still not understood with Shrine present, but his cursed energy would suggest that he has consumed other cursed objects. One would only do so if there were something to gain.”
Sukuna remained silent. His understanding of cursed energy and his own ability to perceive the world so vividly must have revealed this. Yet, he continued to listen intensely. Consideration of what all this meant with another perspective at play… Dialogue often brought room for new theories. Uraume hoped that their words offered something of value.
“Additionally, I wished to discuss with you a topic that was long overdue. I did not want Kenjaku to be around to overhear my words, despite the offense they may bring. Your counterpart… Based on the observations and knowledge I have on hand, I suspect that he saw Yuji-sama as a tool and quickly an obstacle to your proper incarnation. Nothing else. The boy we discussed before, Megumi, was a student like your son under the tutelage of a Gojo possessing the Six Eyes and very likely the Limitless as well. Fushiguro Megumi was the one your counterpart took as his new vessel.”
Fellow student, and a close companion. Yuji had reacted so violently upon hearing Sukuna speak the boy’s very name. His son was someone who found value in human connection. When that connection was torn away…
“A Gojo?” Yet, it was not Megumi’s name nor his place in Yuji’s life that lingered in their master’s thoughts. It was their sensei.
“Gojo Satoru. Yuji-sama holds him in high regard.”
The given name would mean nothing to him. No face or feats to pair it with, beyond that this was a Gojo present in Yuji’s life. One that had earned his son’s respect. How ironic these connections indeed were, given how no member of the three major clans would dare associate with Sukuna’s name on any level. Whenever disputes arose, and eventual talks of negotiations cycled over again, the clans even fought over who should handle it out of fear of what the social fallout would bring regardless of the outcome.
“The greatest obstacle that I would face in any era would be a sorcerer of that caliber. I had always found it unfortunate that the Six Eyes Limitless user of this time died before my own potential could be realized.” Sukuna flexed his hand, stretching his fingers individually to grasp the open air. “The Limitless of the Gojo line is only to be envied when the Six Eyes is paired with it. Other techniques can benefit from the Six Eyes, as they are nothing but a boon, but the Gojo’s inherited technique truly earns that title of being blessed at birth.”
Sukuna repeated what they both already knew, his praise equal parts true and dull, as if he were repeating the lecture of another, he could not argue.
“As for taking that Zenin as a vessel… As much as I could see the act as being a personal jab at the brat, the Ten Shadows and its grandest summon must be the reasoning behind his choice, or else any other vessel could have been made useful far sooner.”
“Grandest summon?”
“Are you at all familiar with the tenth shikigami of the Ten Shadows Technique?”
They were no more familiar with the shikigami beyond the general understanding that it was something powerful enough to earn the Zenin power to back up their expanding desire to see their influence spread. Uraume thought back to the list Kenjaku had given when Yuji’s ink drawings of animals were brought into question. Only nine had been listed, and thus, the memory offered little help. All the servant could do was shake their head.
“Eight-Handled Sword Divergent Sila Divine General Mahoraga,” Sukuna spoke the shikigami’s name without the need for pause or correction. How long has this creature been at the center of his fixation? “A ritual must be performed, and requirements must be met like any other shadow gained, but this one proves the most challenging. It is feared both in and out of the Zenin Clan. No one has yet been able to tame it. Every sorcerer who has made the attempt has died by their own hubris. I would love nothing more than to witness this shikigami’s power with my own eyes. But as with the Gojo clan…”
The disappointment in Sukuna’s voice as what had initially been a build-up of excitement could not be understated. Their Era of wild sorcery and incomprehensible feats has been winding down for quite some time. Greater powers were falling and dwindling, even amongst supposed allies within the clans. Those who operated in the outer regions were often reclusive, save for an exceptional few. Even the cursed spirits who plagued the wilds were not manifesting in mass as they once had. Too many measures were taken to ensure that wasn’t the case, often forcing riskier missions in search of prey that new sorcerers of a coddled generation were not always prepared to face. These factors all contributed to a recent depression that had overtaken their master’s understanding of the world. The lack of anything interesting for days to weeks at a time, even with his destructive provoking, left him crestfallen should he not receive a suitable answer. If Sukuna were to truly get what he desired, he would have to wait for others to be born, for their powers to grow. And while he was not incapable of exerting patience, Kenjaku’s offer of making that wait feel as if it were instantaneous had been oh-so-terribly tempting.
That was until Yuji had fallen right into his hands.
“I wonder if my counterpart and the brat’s sensei have fought? Unless his worry stems from an event he won’t know the outcome of…” Sukuna gripped his chin in thought, only to lean back just a bit before raising his voice to address someone over Uraume’s head. “Are you going to answer anything this time, or contribute nothing other than your unwanted ear?”
Uraume’s eyes widened a bit, unprepared for there to be another among them. Just like his mother, listening in on conversations where he was not invited, Yuji stepped into view after being caught. Only, he showed a semblance of guilt. Or was it embarrassment? Frustration at himself, at the very least. Uraume certainly felt that way. He should have been noticed. He wasn’t very far, all things considered. Uraume did not know whether they should be impressed by the boy’s improvement when it came to keeping his presence muted or annoyed, considering the trouble this skill would surely bring.
And why was Yuji here? To pry, obviously, but was he in need of something? One would think the boy would have been worn out from his battle and the conversation that came after. He had shown signs of fatigue— No. Yuji should not be punished for appearing should the latter be the case. Uraume’s immediate need to question his intentions stemmed from the previously accepted frustration. Not only at their own failing but also at how long Yuji could have gone unnoticed. How much did he overhear? They had been caught revealing information they had learned of him during their own private talks. Information he should have expected to be shared rightly to the master that they served, yet the look the boy gave Uraume was accusing them of being no better than a gossip…
“I will… answer some.” Yuji finally spoke once he was inside, his voice low in case another like himself was nearby. He had his own demands that needed to be met before facilitating anything further. “Don’t ask about what Kenjaku… The cursed objects. Not that.”
Sukuna did not verbally object. The mouth on his stomach had grinned, leaving his son hesitant to approach him once a hand gestured for him to do so. Once again, as space allowed for it, Yuji was expected to sit by Sukuna’s left side. To the boy’s credit, Yuji did sit in the general area designated to him, but it was centered between the placement of his father and Uraume rather than flush at Sukuna’s side to face Uraume directly. It may be the aversion to the drinks they were partaking in. Or another bout of defiance. In reaction to this, Sukuna took no issue with grabbing his robes and dragging him into position, but these kinder reminders eventually came to an end.
The thought that they should leave and allow the two to speak alone crossed Uraume’s mind. It would be considerate to do so, but Sukuna had no intention of dismissing them, so they remained.
“Is it true?” Immediately, Sukuna ignored the boy’s request. The urge to take another swig of sake for that alone had Uraume’s will being tested. “Your lack of a response says enough. Greed and gluttony… If you believe that you will be judged for it, you misunderstand whose company you are in—”
“I did not enjoy it.” Yuji snapped at his father. “I’m not like you, I—I did it because I had to. I’ll do anything to kill—”
But then the boy stopped his declaration. His vow to kill someone who was no longer within his reach. As Kenjaku once stated, nothing he did here would reflect on the time he came from. The grudge from one iteration of their master bled into the Sukuna they served, but in comparison to the acts both Sukunas have taken against the boy, the one sitting in this room had done very little to offend. If anything, their master had been quite generous. More forgiving to the boy than any other who had crossed his path. And in some ways, unique to himself, a twisted level of compassion showed through.
“To kill the one you loath so much. The one you know who shares my name.” Sukuna supplied the end to his son’s thoughts. He knew of only one who could garner that visceral reaction.
“He still has him. Megumi, He—” Yuji buried his fists against his knees, failing to maintain a respectful posture when all he wished to do was curl forward and squeeze the anguish from his eyes. No tears would come out. He would not be completely overpowered. “Megumi is why I’m alive. I will never forgive…”
A life debt unable to be repaid. That was a particularly tragic failure to reconcile with.
“I see merit in my counterpart’s plan, but I have done nothing of the sort. I have been lenient with you, and if you wish for the lenience to remain, you will mind your wording when addressing me.”
His son’s glare was met blow-for-blow. Intensity unrelenting, opposing Yuji’s disdain until the boy would yield. Eventually, Yuji would avert his eyes, but only for a brief moment to contemplate before his father came to an important conclusion.
“Your battle has yet to happen.”
Sukuna’s words wavered ever so slightly between a question and a statement. Confidence worked to hide any possible uncertainty. While it was equally likely that the war his son had waged against him had been interrupted and the boy displaced, there was something that led Sukuna to believe otherwise.
“I’m not there.” Yuji did not deny it. There was much to be gained by doing so. Instead, he peered toward the woods beyond the veranda at a memory caught between the swaying branches. Another somber regret had taken hold of his heart. “I need to be.”
“If you cannot best me in a simple spar, you are far from being able to take down an inferior version.”
Inferior?
Yuji shared the same odd expression that Uraume had felt on their own face. It was not the statement itself that either had taken issue with, but the break in their master’s view of superiority. Belittling his counterpart… Would it not be akin to insulting himself?
Their muddled silence request to explain.
“Whether one wishes or not, possessing a body is not the same as having your own. Becoming a cursed object fundamentally changes your being. The connection between one’s soul and the physical form must align. From what Kenjaku explained during his incessant ramblings, my immense power would need to be fractured and then remade whole.” Impulsive decisions were not usually associated with Sukuna’s name. The distillation of information and assessment of its best use were critical. Choosing to indulge in Kenjaku’s talks granted further insight into what he would have agreed to and, as he just explained, what banes may come with that miraculous boon. “That process would make it so that my incarnation will never compare to what I am now.”
A fire lit up in Yuji’s eyes at the mere mention of the soul. It was not only the comprehension of the concept laid out before him. Vindication in something. The answer to the boy’s war was not something he still searched for, but one he already understood and was delighted to find confirmation in. Even if he could not make use of this relief from his doubt, others may have been told of his discovery. There was hope in the relative unknown that haunted him.
All the while, his father continued to speak. His own musings were for both to hear, though he was not directing any question toward them for answers.
“I have ascended beyond the humans scattered about these lands. Enlightened by my own philosophy, my life will be carried by my own will, and there has yet to be any challenger to show me otherwise. Recent years have started to grow dull. Hearing of this version of me who chose a future far beyond even what I can sustain… Was the price paid worth the wait? To be awakened in a brat he would not tolerate, to take another and challenge the world once more? I am confident in my own success, but his… the unknown variables intrigue me. An exploit can raise the stakes. Exhilarate the heart. But if he did not compensate for it, then my counterpart is a fool.”
Sukuna placed his palm atop Yuji’s head, sending a shiver through the boy that had him twitch underneath his hold. There was enough give for Yuji to turn and shift, thus he faced his father with an accusatory stare, demanding a reason for his touch.
“What did you plan to do if you had succeeded? Say that victory was yours to claim. What would happen after?” Their master extended his lower palm in front of the boy, fingers splayed out to represent the vast array of answers that he could desire. What goal would the boy be so determined to face Ryomen Sukuna without a shred of fear for his own life?
Yuji stared at his father’s palm, frowning.
“I… don’t know”
“How could you not know?”
“I just… want it to be over. Save Megumi. The world, too. That’s it.” He answered quickly. Too quickly. Simplistic and straightforward without any hint of lying. It was almost innocent. Idealistic. As if the death of one individual would end the day-to-day suffering all humans faced.
“Your selfishness, one that encapsulates the world, has an end?” The hand upon Yuji’s head shifted around to cup his chin, ensuring that they locked eyes only briefly before his father shoved him away. “What a wasteful existence. If you have no pursuits beyond that, surely you are bound to lose.”
Disappointed was the best way to describe their master’s reaction. It was a deep, unrelenting kind that would sour his mood, even as he turned the subject elsewhere to make the most of the boy’s cooperation should he still feel inclined to answer.
“Why did that Gojo—The Six Eyes —take you in?”
Yuji shoved himself off the ground, wincing from the impact of saving his fall. A reaction he should not have if he’d healed all of his injuries.
“To train me.”
“Not out of the goodness of his heart.” His father pressed further. “Train you to accomplish what?”
“To find your fingers and kill you— your counterpart.” The correction was noted. The lack of any change in Yuji’s voice, as if he was stating nothing more than an inconsequential fact, was also noted. “It was either that or I would be executed on the spot.”
Was he not in Kenjaku’s care up until Sukuna’s awakening? Did that infuriating sorcerer lose sight of him for one terrible moment, or was that tragedy the result of shirking parental responsibility— responsibility to Sukuna and their vow! —off onto someone else? Anyone could have destroyed their master’s vessel at any time during Kenjaku’s absence. Maybe that was a planned outcome. For what purpose? Who knew with Kenjaku, but Uraume’s blood boiled at the thought.
The sorcerers had gotten a hold of Yuji before Sukuna, and he separated. And before that, the boy’s morality was shaped so out of place compared to the one he came from. Those sorcerers prayed on his desire to do good and protect others. A noble goal of the pure and foolish, all to convince him to carry out ritual suicide under the pretense that it was the best outcome. The only outcome.
Yuji had not been involved with cursed energy before the day his role as a vessel was fulfilled. If he was raised by another, with Kenjaku’s oversight, then he was truly raised in ignorance.
Why allow it? Why do that other than to see just how different the two could be? Was this a cruel attempt at comparing one’s origin versus one's upbringing? Could this experiment have been done to any other?
The whole revelation sickened them.
“Your purpose was defined by another, again.” Sukuna shouted, condemning the boy for his behavior while slamming a fist into the ground. The act of intimidation did not keep Yuji from slamming his palm down in response as he doubled down on his decision.
“It was my choice.”
“Was it?” Teeth threatened to break within the mouth on their master’s stomach, clenching tight while his face grew red in anger. “And you chose the former. You embraced it! Because that choice benefits everyone else greatly. Your death, prolonged or not, accomplished something they would be otherwise incapable of, and an age of peace would be brought anew.”
It was not anger toward the boy’s decision to oppose his counterpart. In a complex way, Sukuna found the act enduring so long as it was corrected going forward in regard to himself. Learning how it came about, however, ruined any underlying respect there was to be found.
“Why do you care?”
“You exist because of me. That, on its own, is worth investing time in understanding. Call it, an indulgence in self-reflection.” Sukuna grabbed his son again, this time by the wrist, to drag him close and onto his lap, back facing him. The disgust on Yuji’s face was apparent. The need to wrestle free was surely building, but one look toward Uraume was enough to keep him in place. “Surely most parents feel that way about their spawn and how they develop with the input provided. You are far from human, yet you are willing to give up everything for their sake. You feel something I cannot. Any soul beyond this room will never hold sympathy, humor, or care toward it in my heart. I wish to see where it goes.”
Their master leaned down to speak into Yuji’s ear. Clearly taking advantage of the moment, Sukuna adjusted his son’s crumbled attire while a hand teased the thought of doing something to his hair.
“Your life was shaped by others from the start. I am sure it is a common thread if I were to delve deep enough.” A sharp nail tapped against the boy’s temple. Yuji may bear his fangs and threaten to bite should any limb get too close, but it was important that he did so while heeding the words that came next. “You should only want and act for yourself. A martyr dies for a potential the world may never realize. A warrior dies because, in their last breaths, they were bested by a worthy foe who earned the right to stem the tide.”
Sukuna’s words were meant to linger. Advice given time to seep in and cause the boy to reflex on his beliefs. But it had only taken one breath for Yuji to snap at his father’s wisdom.
“And what if what I want goes against you?”
“Want within reason, you brat. Unless you are finally capable of overtaking me, you will continue to answer to me.” Hypocrisy within reason. At least, that was how Uraume saw it. Sukuna was the ultimate authority they and everyone else answered to. No one else. Not even the universe itself. Defiance was a choice, and consequences would rightfully follow. But if the boy could overcome them, then in a way, he earned his right through the strength required to do just that.
“What do you want? Your future,” Yuji worked through the words upon swiping at his father’s hand, tempted to grab hold of it and initiate a fight should his father keep prodding. “What desire… better than mine?”
The question was a legitimate one to ask. Uraume would admit to their own curiosity, only when it came to any long-term goals their master may pursue. On more than one occasion, Sukuna has admitted to this desire for territory, kingship, and status as a God amongst mortal men was a fancy on the verge of fleeting. What would come after?
But the answer the pair wished would never come. Sukuna would harshly pivot into something else, refusing to speak on the previous topic further to the boy’s annoyance and Uraume's hushed sigh. It did not help that with his opposing hands, he’d taken a moment to pour himself another cup of sake to send down his throat.
“Why do you hate your mother so much?”
That was what prompted his son to turn around and look at him, bewildered.
“I expect an answer. Hatred toward my counterpart is understandable. But Kenjaku?” There was no telling what exactly there was to be gained by this, but once again, Uraume wished to know as well. “Is it simply for bringing you into this world with a preset path in mind, or something more… altruistic? That bleeding heart and honest face make you two terribly incompatible.”
At least their master’s son was more willing to answer, but only when he was permitted to wiggle out of his father’s hold until he stood on his own in front of him.
“Mother… Easy to hate.” Yuji hesitantly agreed with Sukuna’s assessment. “But, it is more personal. What he did to my siblings, my sensei, just everything… Kenjaku is twisted and vile—I can’t stand his face!? Skin feels… skin is crawling!”
“The urge for violence upon interacting with him is a very common occurrence.” Sukuna nodded a bit, his posture worsening from a need to sleep while the night was still young.
“Awful.”
“He chose a very goading face,” Uraume added in after Yuji’s remark, deciding that the most recent mask was their most detested one. A brief thought occurred after, wondering who Kenjaku wore in Yuji’s era. Merely curious.
“Terrible and punchable.” Yuji brought a fist into the air, taking the opportunity to feel some relief that all three shared something in common. He did, however, refrain from allowing the distraction to do its job. Sukuna’s deflection clearly bothered him, but instead of calling his father out on it, the boy poked at something else. “You wanted to see me angry at Kenjaku?”
Pursed his lips, a hallmark of sulking appeared before a single word in his strange modern tongue came out. The boy would not explain himself, though it was most likely an insult.
“Go. Get out.” Sukuna waved his son away, deeming the conversation now over. He turned to Uraume after. “You as well, a restless night does no one any favors.”
“Your consideration is unnecessary, Sukuna-sama.” Uraume stood up to give a final, proper bow. “I will heed your words regardless.”
“I—Surprised you sleep at all.” A yawn left Yuji’s lips from over Uraume’s shoulder. He may have been holding his hand out to hide it as he often did, or maybe not. Either way, what came next was a series of minor thumps against the wood beams by the room’s exit and then the flood itself.
Immediately, Uraume spun around. Sukuna’s head had snapped up, eyes flickering over them to see his son collapsed. He was declared unconscious the moment Uraume slid over to his side. Nothing they could do would wake him, and it was not until Sukuna stood over them that they glanced underneath the boy’s upper body attire to find bruising still present from the day’s earlier encounter.
At first, nothing was said. One of Sukuna’s palms ended up pressed against his face, another over his son’s chest to do something about clearing up the wounds his son had been persisting through all this time. The aftermath of his battle should have been dealt with much earlier. If Yuji had not possessed the ability to fully recover on his own, something should have been said. He would have been mocked for it, but Sukuna would not have tolerated him like this for very long.
Something would have been done.
“The brat’s endurance needs work,” Sukuna grumbled as he once again waved Uraume off, intending to deal with the boy’s recovery and eventual return to his quarters on his own. “His use of reverse cursed energy is patchwork at best. It should not have been overlooked this long. Could those sorcerers not teach him anything of use, or would it have been a wasted effort? Pathetic.”
Sukuna wished to depart in the morning, well past dawn. No one was to wake him before then. Not even the sun, whose rays were blocked by the old trees outside his quarters. Yuji slept the same by coincidence, though he was found back where he belonged, with little Sato passed out under one arm. The two would wake at nearly identical times. By then, Uraume would have their morning meal prepared and set, and nothing of note would occur until it was time for their departure.
There was one final discussion to be had, and Sukuna had chosen to have it at the village’s entrance with a nervous crowd intent on overhearing what they could between their elder and the one being he answered to.
“We never discussed how you will make up the missing offering.” His tone was that of an accidental mishap. Sukuna himself stood with one foot already set on the trek ahead, but he’d purposefully paused and turned around to deal with the false sense of ease growing in those they were leaving behind. “A night of expected lodgings pales in comparison to a season’s worth of ayu.”
Yuji’s ears perked up at the exchange. Initially, he was going to linger further down the path, watching his pup weave in and out of the trees. Uraume stood beside him. They, too, had already begun walking, albeit at a slower pace, knowing full well their master would not leave such a crucial failing unacknowledged.
“The ayu season is over.” The village elder countered with expected trepidation. “The lake will soon freeze. With no threat to our waters, we could offer you double what you demand by spring’s end.”
“Spring’s end? And what am I to do this winter?”
The gamble of whether doubling the offering was even possible would not be accepted.
“You all need to provide what you owe. That has been the agreement since your son was half your height. Your people remain unprovoked because of my generosity.” Sukuna straightened his posture, allowing his imposing shadow to stretch between the very people who were expected to fall in line. “Either offer the fish you owe by the full moon or the equivalent of that weight of your flesh."
The shock that came next was the most obvious reaction. Like many before, the initial desire for verbal shouting and further acts of outrage were subdued by the very fact that their lives would be ended the moment someone tried. Just as the crowd looked upon Sukuna with horror, his son’s face was overcome with livid revulsion. Yuji’s feet begged to shift in their position, his fingers itching to reach out and challenge their master for daring to even suggest such a thing. There were behaviors of Sukuna that even his son wasn’t numb to.
But the boy did well to control himself. Impulse would not take hold.
Sukuna did not grant anyone in the crowd a moment to argue his decision. The time he’d given to fulfill his demands spanned the course of five days, leaving them plenty of time to handle their affairs and still account for travel. As such, their master turned around and followed the path toward the deeper wood. He would notice his son’s inability to still himself, as much as Yuji tried, and only when he stepped past him did Sukuna pause and allow his silence to grant his son a moment to speak.
“Father.”
“Brat.” Sukuna eyed him, knowing full well his actions were goading his son to act.
Reluctantly, Yuji bowed his head. He showed his respect, then finally spoke the question burning the length of his throat.
“Does… the flesh have to be human?” The very thought of cannibalistic consumption appeared to flip the boy’s stomach. Uraume could make out a bit of nausea in Yuji’s stance, but otherwise, he continued to keep his reaction internal.
“And what would you suggest they pay with instead? Lumber may fill a stomach, but it is by no means savory enough to satisfy.” Savory. Sukuna’s choice in words continued to drive discomfort. Yet, he was not wrong. Meat in one’s diet was of the utmost importance. Should these people force Sukuna to substitute to make due for their lack of fulfillment, then the consequences are on them.
However, it would seem that his son had a proposition of his own to satisfy his father’s hunger without the loss of human life.
“The birds. Umiu.” Upon uttering those words, Yuji looked away from the village in shame, knowing full well the weight of what he was suggesting. He would then shift his eyes at the pup waiting for them down the trail, making it harder for his next sentence to come out clearly. “As important as… their own flesh and blood.”
Those were the words of the elder’s son. Words that Yuji had taken care to remember, only to use them to spit back in his face. That young man was present, after all, more offended than the previous suggestion that they butcher the people themselves. The bonds and priorities of others were forever an enigma.
“How dare you suggest— I would rather die than see my companion fall!”
“It is not your decision to make.” Sukuna refrained from reacting beyond his stern words. He did not have to, but the exchange between himself and the village elder made it clear he would no longer overlook such outbursts should they continue to repeat. “But if you want to throw yourself into the lake should I accept the proposal, be my guest."
“I understand what you are suggesting, young master,” Another man, a fisherman of older age, spoke up while his head remained low. He knew the risk of doing so. He was prepared for it, but felt a need to address another issue that would come from Yuji’s suggestion. “But the Umiu are how we maintain our livelihood. We would need to raise more, train them, rebuild their numbers among our ranks.”
“At least you’ll be alive to do it.”
Yuji’s response was… His gaze was uncharacteristically intense, for a face usually so full of worry and compassion. The shift in his demeanor was intriguing to his father. As was his solution. Offering the birds was not a direct means of escaping responsibility, acting as punishment in their own right. In addition to it all, the elder who had first spoken did not argue against it.
The decision of trading lives or their means to maintain them was a difficult one, but one a leader was expected to weigh and decide on. In a few days time, they would learn the answer.
“You heard the brat.” Sukuna pointed to his son, who no longer wished to be perceived. “By his request, you may decide on one of two options by the full moon, not a day later. You would not want me to take another step in your village so soon if not.”
“We are most grateful for this decision, King of Curses. Prince.”
Yuji turned to nod and accept the elder’s words, but the look of his son’s face was enough to deter him from making no more than a brief glance. No coaxing was required to ensure he followed after his father now that Sukuna’s business with the village was done. And Sukuna would not say anything of the encounter during this time, choosing to catch Uraume up on some more worthwhile news from the previous day’s talk.
Truly, Uraume had expected the boy to sulk on their journey home just as he’d done after the festival, but in him, he would raise his chin high and continue marching on without a break in his rhythm. Yuji knew what he desired and then acted within reason to see it made possible. None of it would ever be ideal, but this new development was certainly preferred over what father and son had before.
Sukuna would have made his displeasure in his son’s behavior known if he’d felt otherwise.
Notes:
Chapter thoughts first! <3
Notes:
-Sukuna sits at the peak of the U-shaped layout of their dining placements because he is of most importance. Then on either side, people are placed from most important to least. Each person is given their own serving dish(tray?) rather than the group sharing a large table.
-Hitatare were an upper body garment worn initially by commoners, then were slowly made more impressive and adopted into higher ranks as the centuries went on. The vine pattern of the one Yuji wears is called Karakusa [winding plant] and I've seen it represent both prosperity or longevity, though the vine/plant used for the pattern may alter that.
-Yuji interacting with children and being adorable will never not make me smile. :D He's giving their parents heart attacks, while Uraume has to shake their head and pray Sukuna isn't watching from the elder's home (Which he very well might be)
-The name Takeshi was chosen because that is the name one of Yuji's occult club members had. (Iguchi Takeshi) There aren't really that many records regarding Commoner naming conventions (or much on commoners at all during this time period) so a lot of what I'm writing here in the village can't be taken as historical fact. There's also a nod to not revealing one's personal name, which was a big deal in the Heian Era + there was a system of honorifics and titles for specific relationships that would be in place. Yuji using -dono is a rough equivalent of -san which was not used until later periods (a misconception I originally fell for in earlier fics) but regardless, he's giving the elder's son far more respect than someone of his 'rank' should. Their age difference is about a couple of years, which is why Takeshi is called 'young man' and Yuji 'boy'.
_OK. Yes. I've been waiting to talk about this since I've gotten a few comments about Yuji meeting the era equivalents of a couple characters. I decided that in this AU, both he Six Eyes/Limitless CT and the Ten Shadows are out of Sukuna's reach for a proper challenge. Why? I think, as a head canon, it plays into the few Heian Era depictions we get of Sukuna where he appears to be depressed or closed off. He is TOO strong and needs a proper challenge to oppose him and make use of that strength he's cultivated. As the power houses of the Heian Era disappear, the general populace starts to stagnate, which doesn't do well for our King of Curses. Yuji's appearance is what tips the scales in a new direction, keeps Sukuna present, and perhaps will encourage sorcerers to try harder to regain the losses in strength? Maybe? There were my rambling thoughts on the matter. Haha.
-Yuji spying on Sukuna's conversation is 100% a trait he's learning from his 'mom'. Horrible influences, all of them.
-Sukuna caring for Yuji in his own way is a complex mix of emotions I am trying to convey, and I think the scene of his advice does it best? I purposefully had it parallel the advice Gojo gives Megumi post Exchange-Event. There's also something about villainous characters being appalled at the actions of a series protagonist faction (I wouldn't exactly call sorcerers the good guys as far as the clans or elders are concerned)
-The departure scene hits a lot harder now that I decided to give the first two scenes a chance to be written, rather than footnotes. It's why this chapter took so long to write, 2k additional words does that XD Yuji throwing Takeshi's words out as a way to technically meet Sukuna's criteria is quite smart. He's learning to keep following along, but pushing just enough to keep his agency alive. The dynamic intrigues me quite a lot.I think that's all? I'll try to answer previous comments soon! Sorry about the delay.
I will be taking a small break from this fic, as I have a wedding to attend to and then some project deadlines coming up. I also want to be confident in my outline going forward. I want to say there are a handful of chapters left. I don't like dragging out plots more than necessary, and I like telling a stronger story without trying to shove every idea in v. a longer one with a flimsier execution. I hope that makes sense!
I put this work alongside a few other time travel fics I've written in a collection together. If you need something to read in between updates, maybe something there will scratch the same itch?Thank you all so much for reading! Have a wonderful weekend! <3
Chapter 9: His Fire Was Soft And Initially Calm
Notes:
I KEEP FORGETTING TO SHARE THIS
DEAR FRIEND JIN DID ART OF YUJI AND SUKUNA BEFORE THE FESTIVAL. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Upon their return home, Uraume sensed a disturbance in the air. The ground had shifted in places none of the three— or four, though the little pup hardly weighed enough for his tracks to matter —had stepped before their departure. No significant force or singular creature had dashed through the estate. That much, Uraume was certain as they moved ahead of their master to assess the ground beyond the protective barrier’s edge. Still intact and as strong as ever, a lone fool must have found a way to pierce through it.
Sukuna observed in silence. He had come to the same conclusion, allowing others to raise alarm while he sought out where the intruder could be within his home. Yuji followed Uraume out of curiosity, unsure why their body had become so tense to an alarming degree. Little Sato sniffed at the ground, catching an unfamiliar scene and following it all the way to the estate’s main hall. Certainty took hold, causing the little one to growl at whomever could be waiting on the other side.
Cursed energy, purposefully subdued, sent currents that could be sensed in the air. It was hard to place to whom it belonged, but the familiarity was there.
No fear would keep any of them from hesitating. Nor would it spark caution, as the combined strength of all three should handle any threat with ease. Thus, Sukuna stepped forward, about to slam the shoji screens apart, when the doors opened by themselves to reveal a long-haired woman in gaudy noble garbs kneeling behind it.
“Welcome home, my dearest Sukuna-sama.”
Yorozu.
How did she, of all people, get through the barriers meant to keep out those who did not belong? Did her delusions seep into the framework of their master’s sorcery? Uraume dearly hoped that was not the case, for it would be ridiculous.
“Is that—” The shock of her unwarranted appearance had an effect on everyone, including their master. A few seconds were all that Yorozu required to take full advantage, quickly propelling herself off the ground to rush the poor boy standing at Sukuna’s side. Speedy hands had already grabbed hold of Yuji’s cheeks by the time Sukuna had steeled himself to deal with her. “He is so cute! A little Kuna with his father’s handsome looks.”
Uraume could see the mental recoil in Yuji’s eyes. The invasion of personal space was one issue, but the comparison to his father was another he could not stand, causing far more curses to faintly spew from under Uraume’s breath. If the young master were to throw a tantrum over this and retaliate…
It was only after experiencing intense anger did Uraume realize how long it had distracted them for. They had experienced the same delay in reaction as their master, allowing Yorozu one last thought to escape before something was done to remove it. Why Yuji hadn’t thrown her off of him as she began feeling his arms was its own mystery.
“There’s muscle underneath these robes. And your cursed energy… Oh, I can only imagine the honor and prestige the wretch who birthed him had felt in that moment. Though, I hear rumors that she is no longer around. There’s no sign of another living here, which means it is up to me to claim responsibility as his mother.” Oh, heavens above. If Yuji wasn’t going to fight back, Uraume was willing to do it in his stead.
“Release him, Yorozu.”
As if he saw a ghost, Yuji’s face would pale at the mere mention of her name. Further interference would not be necessary, however, as Yorozu’s final word was enough for him to bow his head forward to shake her off and utter a meek decline as he retreated a couple of steps out of her reach. That was when his face darkened, something he tried well to hide by keeping his attention elsewhere. The pup at his side was a good distraction.
Sukuna does not acknowledge anything beyond the boy’s retreat. The simple fact that he had to retreat at all because someone couldn’t keep their hands to themselves—He would have done more if the sight of yet another woman dead at the boy’s feet were not an invite to undo any progress the harvest festival had set back.
“Get out.”
“Get out? After all I’ve done?” Yorozu would not accept Sukuna’s dismissal. She was under the impression that she could speak freely, when there was no threat of experience or fondness to hold back Sukuna’s temper should she continue to invoke it. “I swept your halls and polished your treasures. The kitchen is spotless and your stores are organized from top to bottom. I prepared where your head shall sleep after a long day of travel!”
The hairs on the back of Uraume’s neck stood up straight. How dare she touch their things! So long as each meal was served punctually and to the highest quality, everything within the kitchen was their domain to handle as they pleased.
“Can I stay at least one night? Please? I flew all the way here just for you! If I were not tired, I would once again fight to prove my love, but alas…” Still intent on getting her way, Yorozu risked closing the distance between her and Sukuna with a hand covering her self-assured expression. “I guess I will have to pass along some information trickling down the ranks of the Fujiwara, instead.”
“What could you have to share that would possibly interest me?”
“It’s about Tengen-sama.”
Suddenly, the expressions between them changed, harboring a greater severity than before.
“Speak. Now.”
“For a roof over my head. The nights are getting awfully cold.” Yorozu held herself, hands grasping tight as a shiver went down her spine. “We could share your bed to keep warm…”
“Yorozu.”
Sukuna used her name, making her squirm with glee. Uraume debated on whether they should cover Yuji’s eyes with their hand at the unsightly display. At least it was not the most vulgar she had ever been.
“Tengen-sama stepped out from her seclusion. She said it was to ‘Observe the impact of a fallen star’ and nothing more. There was an escort, a trusted entourage at the sorcerer clans’ request to accompany her pilgrimage, but they have been separated, and Tengen-sama is missing. There were no signs of an attack, so a few voices are thinking she broke away on purpose.”
A fallen star? What an obtuse way of describing a certain someone. If she was already willing to ditch her guard and move on her own, then why bother obscuring the obvious destination she had in mind?
“Who knows where Tengen-sama is heading? It is quite sad, really, as I had made plans to visit her for my own reasons.” Then again, Yorozu had failed to connect the dots.
Regardless, the news about Tengen did not sit well with Sukuna. Yuji’s own interest in hearing Tengen’s name overshadowed any observation to catch his father’s unease. There was nothing he could make use of, but hearing about something he was vaguely aware of must be refreshing.
“Was my offering sufficient enough to grant me one night’s stay, Sukuna-sama?”
One of Sukuna’s secondary eyes peered down at his son who was on the verge of sneaking away. Yuji took notice that he was caught and shrugged at his father with confusion, unable to grasp why his input was suddenly required. A previous yawn then returned. His attempt to run off had placed the desire to rest over whatever was taking place in front of him. Uraume sympathized.
“One night. Try anything, and I will sear your corpse into his memory.” Their master motioned toward Uraume, about to pawn Yorozu off to them to be dealt with. Truly, Sukuna was capable of the worst cruelties. “Uraume—”
“I am grateful for your kindness, Sukuna-sama. Uraume does not need to fret over me, as I already know where everything is.” With that, Yorozu happily skipped off instead of risking the chance of Sukuna going back on his word. And as concerning as her statement was, it was not worth the headache that came with unpacking its implications.
“I believe you are mistaken, little one. I have no interest nor time to engage with you.”
A loud yip in protest echoed through the pavilion as Uraume collected robes and other garments to be washed. The pitter-patter of steps continued even as they moved from one room to the next, often falling behind only to speed up to run ahead to the point of becoming distracted by whatever new thing appeared around the corner, thus repeating the cycle all over again.
“Why must you insist on following me around when Yuji-sama is not present?” Uraume did not understand the thought process, or perhaps lack thereof, within the little pup’s mind. Whenever Yuji was involved in something the pup could not join, the little one sought out Uraume as a replacement for the young master’s attention instead. Since it was Sukuna who was monopolizing the boy’s time, Uraume could see how they became the default choice, but in previous instances… “It is your duty to watch over him as he does for you. Go. Return to him and wait for his lessons to be over.”
Uraume attempted to gesture toward the courtyard coming up ahead, but upon tilting their head over the basket in their hands, the sight of Yorozu sitting with legs dangling over the walkway’s edge was enough to cause Uraume to stop and scowl. An unwanted sound had managed to escape their lips, but the intrusive woman had paid it no mind. Her attention was too caught up in the sight of their master’s midday sparring session with his son. Energy and emotions that had built up over time needed to be released, leading to a bit more destruction of the surrounding area as the two threw a barrage of fists each other’s way. Any sane person would have sought to steer clear of the area for their own sake, but not Yorozu. She toed the line between risk and reward, hands holding onto her cheeks as she cooed over the sight of the one she would pursue to the world’s end if it were required of her.
“My dear Sukuna…” Yorozu began in a sultry whisper, only to fall back against the nearest pillar and sigh. Her dramatics were something else to witness, on par with another loathsome guest who frequented the estate. “A King for my yearning eyes. Desperate to caress, dreaming to be held in turn. Blessed teachings of true love.”
Poetry? Did a court hack write that for her to butcher or was it a poor product of impulsivity? Regardless, the woman’s behavior needed to cease. The day was already half over, and she showed no signs of having prepared to leave.
“What are you doing?”
“Waxing poetics about my reason to be.” She continued to fawn over their master, eye refusing to part from the object of her obsession. “You wouldn’t understand, Uraume. You see him every day, basking in privilege while the rest of us only get rare opportunities to take advantage of.”
“Do not address me so familiarly.” The lack of respect was grating on Uraume’s ears. A servant of Ryomen Sukuna was a position placed higher than any other save for their master’s kin. “If you were wanted, you would be here more often.”
“Still as cold as ever.” Unbothered by the intended harshness of Uraume’s words, Yorozu stuck her tongue out in a childish fit. She truly had no decorum. Then again, while she may continue to pale in comparison to Sukuna in terms of power and skill, her abilities were far above the average sorcerer. She had earned her place mingling among the Fujiwara for a reason in spite of the barriers of gender and origin she often dealt with. Few were willing to order her around and make due on threats to keep her in line as a result. Taking anyone seriously after one too many jokes was to be expected.
“Are you not going to challenge him again? Charge relentlessly until you’re bleeding out in our courtyard?” Uraume pictured her previous attempts, her blind obsession convincing Yorozu that she could ever match Sukuna in a duel to receive his acknowledgment. Her tenacity could not be understated. And like a cockroach, she always managed to survive.
“On my next visit. Right now, Sukuna-sama is spending time with his son. I won’t get between that.”
Her response was not what Uraume had expected. By her need to explain herself soon after, Uraume deduced that their own face must have shifted enough to reveal that.
“I have class, you know.” Offended, Yorozu continued to speak through pouting lips. “Many parents either live short lives or their children die too soon. Moments like these are precious. You would understand that more than anyone, wouldn’t you?”
“Enough.” The rare moment of consideration was squandered by the immediate jab in Uraume’s direction. Deflection of her own experiences had been unnecessary, but nonetheless, she engaged in it, causing Uraume to snap. They had even prepared to raise a hand if need be, though it would be improper to do so without Sukuna’s blessing.
With a deep breath, self-control would be restored.
In contrast to Uraume’s disdain, the wolf pup eagerly sniffed the ground by Yorozu until she showed interest in him first. A gentle hand on the pup’s head was a sign of goodwill among such imposing sorcerers. The initial scratch behind the pup’s ears was the final straw, prompting him to fall on his back and wobble about with his tongue hanging out in eager glee. Little Sato wished for a belly rub, and Yorozu was more than willing to provide it.
“If only it were Sukuna-sama beneath my hands…”
“You are hopeless.” Still unapologetic in their comments, Uraume waited for an objection that would never come. Instead, Yorozu would indulge the wolf pup a bit more before turning her eyes back to Sukuna and Yuji. From father to son, she traced the boy’s movements more closely to decipher what was mimicry of his father and what did not belong.
“So, what is the story behind our little Prince?” The ‘our’ part of Yorozu’s statement would need correcting, but Uraume held their tongue. “Yuji-hiko wouldn’t tell me anything when I asked, just as moody as his father. I would have known if a kid had been kept here in secret in the years Sukuna-sama occupied this place. His cursed energy gave him away well before my eyes could catch sight of him. And with hair like that, if the boy had been raised somewhere else in the world, surely someone would have begun whispering about their resemblance… Unless that’s how you found him?”
“It was a meeting of happenstance.”
“Is the mother really not in the picture?” The nosey woman bobbed back and forth, craning her neck in an attempt to triple-check her surroundings for an additional person who did not exist. At least, not how she would assume.
“Yorozu, you have nothing to compete with. Even if the young master’s mother was still around…” Uraume paused, unsure how to word it. They were not at liberty to reveal Kenjaku’s precarious identity nor the leap of time that brought the boy here in the first place. Either revelation would be absurd to most and considered a cruel joke to make instead of providing the truth, but to a sorcerer, such outlandish statements wouldn’t be dismissed so easily. Allowing others to create a useful false narrative out of assumptions has worked well so far. But when one experience countered those claims… The long pause Uraume had taken in contemplation would ultimately lead to yet another assumption to handle the situation. An assumption that was best not to correct either.
“That poor boy.” A sleeve was brought to Yorozu’s face to cover her watering eyes. Exaggerated, surely, perhaps even tears of joy had appeared as she wept over what she presumed was a loss Yuji had to endure. It was not inaccurate. Kenjaku was dead to him. “He must need someone to hold him more. I shall comfort him.”
“Leave the young master alone.”
Said request fell on deaf ears. Yorozu was not one to be so easily deterred.
“Do you need held too, Uraume?” Her teasing hand, in addition to her words, was unwarranted. To allow someone to get ingrained beneath the skin was unbecoming, but Uraume could not help it. There was something about her that struck a nerve. However, there was something to be said about preferring Yorozu’s presence to Kenjaku’s, as Uraume doubted she was capable of the same complex scheming. Her desires were open to all to see. No lies came from her mouth. She simply acted in accordance with her whims, which was a philosophy even Sukuna could not find fault in.
“Do not touch me.”
“You’re so boring!”
Her protests would not stop Uraume from adjusting the basket in their hands before walking away, taking little Sato with them as the pup jumped off the floor to cling to their heels.
“There is work to be done. Excuse me.”
The young master was troubled. Within the private confines of his quarters, the repetitious sound of mumbled notes and fumbled lyrics could be heard. Hesitated plucks of an instrument accompanied them, but rarely did the two sounds match. The song was not one Uraume understood, but they had heard in pieces from the boy weeks before. It was supposed to carry the same jovial energy as a few others he knew, however, the frustration that came with consecutive mistakes would sour the notes beyond recovery and he would have to start over.
Eventually, one frustrated grunt too many brought enough concern for Uraume to act on. A simple glance inside would be enough to placate it.
“Is something the matter, Yuji-sama?”
Uraume poked their head through the gap between shoji screens and met with the sight of their master’s son sitting in the room's center with a moderately-sized biwa balanced gently in his lap. Surrounding him were sheets of parchment, covered in his era’s symbols, with not a single page that was clean or precise to be presentable, as countless streaks and revisions must have made parts illegible even to himself. Were they supposed to be lyrics? Transcriptions of the songs he occasionally let loose, even through the simplest of hums.
“Everything.” Yuji growled, his fingers slipping away from the proper positions he was taught. The slump of his back and the poor posture that came from it weren’t helping. Though, Uraume guessed that it wasn’t his lack of skill on a newly gained instrument that had made him upset. “Everything is… all wrong.”
Yorozu had gifted him that biwa. A short-necked wooden lute she had created with her cursed technique mimicking one she had seen played by the very courtesan who had taught her the art. Rumors of a hidden songbird had inspired the offering she displayed on the spot, delighted to capture his approval when showcasing the intricate detailing she could manifest. It was a surprise, she had proclaimed, to find that the Prince of Curses owned no instruments. It was her duty to change that, she had continued, going so far as to sit down with the boy and show him how to pluck the strings with the matching bachi she produced from her sleeve. A few basic chords were taught in the process.
While the act of teaching appeared to be something she enjoyed, Uraume was not blind to the ulterior motive behind it. She had gotten the boy interested. Yuji expressed as such, and Sukuna’s own appreciation for the arts— and his son’s wish to engage with them —granted Yorozu the chance to squeeze an additional night out of her stay. Worse still, the promise of building on the basics with further lessons gave her a reason to come back. The only solace Uraume could find was that Yorozu’s duties elsewhere would ensure her lack of permanency within the estate. Duties she carried out until she could levy enough favor from Sukuna that would, hopefully, never come.
“I can’t— I am… This song, right here.” Yuji hummed a few notes, tapping on the main body of the instrument to accompany his recitation of a few lines before they fell apart into uncertainty. “The words, I can’t get them right. I can’t remember what comes next… Most of the songs I know are in pieces.”
Memorization could only go so far if one didn’t believe the reference to the original would be out of their reach. The songs Yuji echoed were likely from his era, all in a mix of two languages no one else spoke. All knowledge of his home rested solely with him, and that included any errors or gaps that he was becoming painfully aware of.
“I didn’t think… I should know this one. I heard it many times after school. So many. I know this theme. I do.” He was insistent, so much so that he went through the verse again, mumbling along in the hope that repetition would eventually spark his memory. Perhaps in time, it would happen.
“Theme?” Uraume was simply curious. The boy never talked about the subject of his songs or what purpose they had served. Naturally, they moved inside to continue this conversation more comfortably, careful to place themselves somewhere the papers were not. In turn, this would prompt Yuji to collect more than was necessary to accommodate.
“For the show.”
“A show. The performers of a show would sing a song first?” Uraume nodded along. Not only did Yuji attend school, but he also had the free time to attend drama and music performances.
“Or the people they hired to do it before the show. They do it to make you excited. Fever!” Yuji pumped both his fists in the air, only to risk the biwa falling if not for his reflexes. Uraume did not understand what a ‘fever’ had to do with the subject, but other words soon left his lips, speaking of concepts that he was too happy to share to bother translating. The sounds he made were quick and snappy, with an assortment of expressions to instill a wide range of emotions these themes were supposed to convey. He would soon figure this out and correct himself as best he could. “The songs fit the stories. One can’t be without the other.”
“I see. And these stories captivated you?”
“Yes. I couldn’t sleep. Not until I knew how it ended…” How late did these performances go? There was a fond look on the boy’s face as his words faded out. A bit melancholic, but his mood did not drop as Uraume had feared it would. He was about to say more and had taken a breath to prepare when another voice spoke over him.
“You attended school?”
Sukuna’s sudden presence outside the pavilion sent a jolt through his son’s body. As a consequence, Yuji accidentally stressed a high-pitched note from the biwa, earning a scowl from Sukuna, who thought it to be on purpose. Previous actions of harassing his father’s ear whenever near with the very same sound were to blame.
“Since I was four. Math. Science. Reading. Writing. Art. History. Sports…” Yuji grew more confident in answering Sukuna as his father drew near. He came close to boasting, but would ultimately refrain from expressing an air of superiority over it. If anything, he seemed quite tired after exhausting his list of subjects. “Jujutsu Sorcery… That school still taught more math.”
A groan filled the air as Sukuna joined the pair on the ground, electing to believe the noise his son had made was in protest to what sounded like a rigorous upbringing.
“You sound resentful.”
“Not resentful.” Yuji denied the accusation. He held his hands up again, placing his instrument down gently before surrendering to whatever frustration had become apparent in his father’s face. “School is… boring. Important. Not always interesting.”
“You had more opportunity than most. Appreciate it.” It would seem that Sukuna held little interest in their current subject. He had come to the boy’s quarters for a reason. There was no room given for error in guessing why with the finger pointed at the biwa by Yuji’s feet. “How do you know the woman who gave that to you?”
“Hm?”
“You did not recognize her face, but you knew her name. You reacted to it.” His father had been paying attention, after all. It would seem that Sukuna chose to wait Yorozu’s stay out to see what else could have come of it. “Her cursed technique, the wings she created to facilitate flight… They did not shock you. They did not excite you. You became upset and caused that distortion in the neck of your gift.”
“She…” Yuji turned his gaze to the biwa, his thumb brushing over the dents in the wood where it snapped under the pressure of his grip. “She was incarnated into Tsumiki. Megumi’s sister.”
That was all that needed to be said, leaving smaller gaps to fill themselves in as Sukuna guessed what would come of something like that. His counterpart took Megumi’s body as his own. Yorozu would no doubt pursue him regardless of the vessel, but if other pieces of Kenjaku’s plans were to already be underway… What a complicated set of events.
Did Kenjaku plan for the swap in vessels? If that were the case, then why make Yuji at all?
“Always one to stir up drama no matter the era.” Sukuna’s palm found its way to his forehead. It was his turn to show frustration, which prompted Uraume to chime in.
“I would not be surprised if it were he who personally spoke with Yorozu regarding the rumors about the young master just to see what would happen.” Neither father nor son disagreed with them. “What are the chances that Kenjaku had already proposed his offer to her, and she accepted?”
“If certain conditions are met, say my own agreement, I believe it easily.”
“I am sure she would be more than willing to enlighten you on anything you ask of her. She is determined to return…” For biwa lessons no less. Lessons Yuji did not seem particularly opposed to, which was perplexing. Their master’s counterpart and he had an extensive and personal history, which fueled Yuji’s animosity. Yorozu may not have interacted with him nearly as much, but…
“Do you not want revenge?” Sukuna eyed his son, intent on understanding the difference in reasoning. “I would not stop your pursuit of it.”
“She hasn’t done anything. Not to me. Not yet. She did not choose Tsumiki's body. If you don’t agree… She won’t.” Wouldn’t that same logic apply to Sukuna as well? Well, more toward the beginning of Yuji’s stay in this estate, before the festival… Was this logic behind his choice to settle down? “I also like how she makes you mad. You should invite her over more.”
Uraume coughed into their arm, poorly disguising their immediate need to laugh as Yuji stood up from the floor. The reaction was too much for them to hold back entirely, and it would seem their master faced similar difficulty as disbelief crept into the edges of his face. Neither was paid any mind, as Yuji was more focused on whistling for the pup sleeping on his bed to come to join him now that his quarters had become stuffed with one person too many.
Yorozu was, presumably, the lesser of many evils surrounding him. Kenjaku may be a bane to his father in a similar fashion, but Yuji could find it in himself to tolerate her. The same would never be said for his mother.
“Maybe…” Yuji paused before the stairs to turn back and call out over his shoulder. “Next time she visits, I will call her mother.”
“You will not dare enable her and those delusions!” Enraged, Sukuna shouted after him. His composure would return after that with crossed arms to hold back anything else that may wish to sneak through. “Do not—Her lessons are the only reason she is permitted to return. Nothing else. You will show progress from them, or else she will have no purpose. Understood?”
The underlying threat was clear. It was one that would douse whatever amusement the boy had gained from the unneeded escalation. Yuji’s eyes certainly widened at his father’s words, shaken not by the act itself, but by how easily he had come to relax in the moment. It was as if he just registered who he was with, reminding himself all over again to remain bitter.
Just as Yuji was about to respond, perhaps objecting to the callousness his father showed, something else caught his attention.
“Oh, that’s—” Incoherency followed as the boy whispered to him, a hand shaking in the air, tapping an invisible object to a rhythm that fit the muttered verse he had been missing. The relief had broken the tension entirely. “Uraume-san, I remembered!”
And with that, Yuji was off to catch up with the pup already lost in the garden. His father was left ignored, leaving Uraume to silently console whatever fallout came from it.
The long-awaited answer from the fishing village arrived on the morning of their deadline. A full moon was already present in the sky, out of place with the sun so close, as if curiously waiting to see if Sukuna’s demands would be met or if smoke would obscure the sky once more.
A group of five men appeared at the front entrance to their master’s estate. By the look of their build, four fishermen carried their burdens: Two clay vessels, large in size and hefty in weight. The village elder had been one to guide their path, but his blistered palms revealed that he’d done much more heavy lifting than he first appeared. His son was not among them. Frightened by this, Yuji found it hard to remain still when observing the group approach at a slow and bothersome pace.
Sukuna had sensed their arrival even further out, sending Uraume and Yuji to handle the task of claiming their offering on his behalf. The boy’s interference during their earlier departure had earned him this unwanted honor. An honor he still fulfilled, leaving the wolf pup behind to avoid any mockery. Uraume was there to watch over the exchange and guide the boy’s hand should he act improperly or if the men would dare to use this opportunity to strike. The odds of the latter were extremely low, but never zero. Their master had said as such, leaving Uraume’s fingers twisting underneath their sleeves in preparation for any scenario beyond the acceptable.
No words were exchanged as the offerings were placed before Yuji’s feet. The expected bows were performed, leaving the air quite tense for those who held any interest in what the other party may think. During this time, an attempt was made by Yuji to return the clothes he had been given after he had been ruined in battle. A gesture that did not go without surprise nor gratitude, but was ultimately turned down with an apologetic smile.
With that, the village elder turned and led his men home.
Predictable and uneventful was how Uraume would describe it later. Even Yuji’s strange need to pay back the kindness expected of a host was accounted for, as the robes he’d brought back had been neatly folded and tucked away with this very day in mind.
Turning attention toward the offering vessels was the obvious next step. One Yuji did not want any part of, but was caught up in morbid curiosity to learn how the men responded to the choice they had been presented with. Afflicted with trepidation, the boy still reached for the handle of the jar’s wooden lid. His other hand brought his collar above his nose, anticipating a horrid stench upon its swift removal.
A sigh of relief came when nothing but the carcasses of dead birds met Yuji’s eyes. There was no clear number of how many from where Uraume stood. Thus, they reached out and opened the other vessel to ascertain whether the village had sent enough… What they had found within their own jar may have differed, but Uraume’s expression did not shift in the slightest. The sight of human remains never bothered them, not even when they were young. The salt used to preserve the meat for transport and the lapse of time between their death and now had distorted their features, but that did not mean Uraume could not make out a few key details that left a modicum of good news to share by the time Yuji’s gaze had wandered haphazardly over their way.
Any internal celebration had ceased at the sight. He had known this to be a possibility, yet when confronted with it directly, the boy covered his mouth and crouched onto the ground to avoid looking any longer than necessary.
“That boy you spoke with… He is not among them. Nor do there seem to be any children.” Uraume spoke slowly, hoping to ease whatever self-inflicted pain the boy suffered through. If anything had come of it, Uraume could not tell.
Human bodies weighed more than any one bird. To offset the loss of their people or means of survival, a balance of acceptable loss must have been considered. It was a practical decision. Harsh, yes. But one that had not been made lightly. Answering the demand for an offering of both types of meat did not violate any rules, either.
It was now time to move the offerings inside. Feathers had to be plucked, meat had to be stripped from many of the bones, while alternative methods of long term storage in tandem with proper meal planning were important steps to take. Ice would work for the most part, although the barriers Uraume often implemented to store food while they were out of range from their cursed technique would need to be redrawn and enforced. The day before them was a long one, and it would be made even longer as long as Yuji remained on the ground with his head lowered in shame.
“You gave them a choice, Yuji-sama.” Uraume kneeled down to place a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Do not disrespect it by sulking.”
“I…”
“Sukuna-sama’s decision, the village agreements, none of it was your responsibility to bear. All of it existed before your arrival, and would have been dealt with regardless if you remained with us or not. You gave those men a choice; some took it, while others did not. Either in stubbornness or as a sacrifice… While we may not know what method they employed to decide their fates, the decision was theirs to make.”
“They should not have had to make a choice at all.” Yuji hissed as he tore himself out from underneath Uraume’s palm, standing up as he did so. Regret immediately took over as their eyes met. The emotions he felt, the anger at cruelty he could not do away with, were being displaced onto another. And while Uraume did not share the same rejection Yuji had for his father’s actions, they did not berate him for opposition either.
“There are many things people feel that others should not have to choose. If you wish to define those things, then gain enough power to do so.” These sentiments were shared by their master, as it was Sukuna who had told Yuji that if he wished to do things differently, he would have to earn the right through force. “Now, assist me in bringing their offerings to the kitchen, and I will ensure that this is the last you’ll have to deal with them.”
Based on the boy’s reaction to the loss of human life, regardless of circumstance, and his previous reaction to Sukuna’s declaration of altering the offering to human flesh, should there not be enough fish to fulfill the original deal… The jar currently in their hands would be solely for their master to indulge in.
Father and son had not come together to gaze at the nighttime sky for quite some time. Not since the festival nor after a particular pup filled the boy’s desperate need for physical comfort. The double-edged sword their master had used indeed struck in both directions. While intent to appear unbothered at first, animosity was bound to seep in, either toward the beast itself or their master’s own actions and the consequences that came of them. It was saddening that not much could be done beyond observation on Uraume’s end. Nudging either in a direction they were opposed could have the opposite. And as such, the most Uraume would do was serve their master his late evening tea with an extra cup to drink from should another need it. It would eventually turn out that said cup would one day find use, but not how they expected.
The first snow of winter fell both quietly and relentlessly.
All day, without reprieve, flakes of ivory coated the ground. One layer after the next, no longer melting against the earth as they piled high enough for one’s feet to sink with every step. Uraume was no stranger to the cold. They welcomed it with open arms, carefully guiding the snowfall off any uncovered paths and more sensitive roofs to avoid any possibility of collapse.
Yuji was delighted when the snowfall began. He looked outside with childish wonder, matching the energy of the wolf pup, who had yet to experience a season so cold. Little Sato rushed into the nearest snowbank, disappearing out of sight and eventually causing his unprepared master to give chase. Projectiles of snow were made and thrown about. The beginnings of some kind of sculpture could be found along with frantic footprints darting back inside when common sense got the better of the boy creating it.
It was Yuji’s own fault for not wearing enough layers to keep himself warm. The brazier in his room has not been in regular use either. So when the boy came back inside in search of heat and found nothing but candles and his own body heat to curl into… It was up to Uraume to provide a stern reminder and a demonstration to keep him from losing any more fingers.
Sadly, a small fire and warm soup were not enough to satisfy him. The pup was too small to act as anything beyond a hand warmer, and that was if the little one could tolerate standing still. Once tolerance reached its peak, Yuji would burst forth from his room, leaving the little one behind to stomp his feet in search of the one who he blamed for his suffering. Said tantrum led him to his father.
Yuji stood in the snow, looking up at the veranda with his elbows raised and fists curled on either side of his hips. He had blanketed a horrendous set of robes atop his hoodie to keep warm, colors and patterns completely out of place while the ends of his sleeves were balled up and clutched between his fingers. His nostrils flared in anger. Uraume saw all this and what would come next as the boy charged forward and jumped onto the veranda’s edge just as they finished serving a fresh pot of tea. Frost that had formed along the outer edge caused the boy’s footing to slip. He was lucky not to have fallen from his compromised balance. Then again, one swift placement of ice behind Yuji’s heel to prevent further skidding and wobbling of his feet to be quickly dismissed thereafter was something Uraume could manifest with ease. They had done so swiftly and silently as they stepped back and awaited their master’s thoughts and eventual dismissal.
“It is too cold!” Yuji shouted at his father, glaring at Sukuna’s barren chest beneath the cloak he decided to cling to after sundown.
Their master had never shown much issue with the cold. His larger stature and natural ability to harness flames from his cursed technique were his means to deter it if meditation failed to stave off discomfort. In the same vein, Uraume’s own cursed technique left them all too used to the low temperatures that naturally clung to their skin. A fact of living as if one were among the dead. A boon in the summer to all while an uncanny presence come winter, as if they were born of the snow just as the creatures of legend.
In an attempt to ignore whatever outburst this was, Sukuna ignored the boy entirely. He sipped his tea and tilted his head, forcing Yuji to sidestep until his view a couple times too many before the game grew tiresome.
“I may hold dominion over this land, but the seasonal cycle does not cease because you wish it. ” Their master continued to avoid granting his son eye contact.
“I need more blankets.” No expression of respect, verbal or not, was given before or after Yuji’s demands. Something had snapped. His frustration had suddenly heightened. Uraume did not know what to make of this relapse in behavior.
“You already have enough.” Sukuna refused to reward disrespect.
“More fuel. A larger fire!” Yuji continued regardless, along with adding several words Uraume could not comprehend. Two different languages were in use, both from the future he hailed from, mixed together as he began to gesture at an invisible surface with his hands. What came next left Uraume to believe he was speaking of thickness or distance, but any words he spoke that were understood did not match it. “Mine burned out.”
Ah. So that was why he came out this way. No candle would offer enough reprieve from the cold. Sukuna, however, would hold no sympathy for his plight.
“Keep moving as you are, and your body will heat up on its own.”
With a huff, their master reached out for the fresh pot. He was ready to pour himself another drink when Yuji released his right fist and pointed a finger toward his father’s cup and hissed out a very specific word. In an instant, familiar dotted lines formed across its surface, denoting where the small vessel would break before ultimately shattering onto the ground.
Silence fell as all four sets of eyes froze in place. The next few breaths the boy took were full of caution and reluctance. A bead of sweat appeared behind the back of his right ear, encroaching on his neck just as his father closed two of his eyes and sighed. Sukuna had given him a moment to realize his mistake. A moment to reflect, then to panic, just before a strike that rivaled lightning in speed reached for Yuji’s outstretched wrist and yanked him in his father’s hold.
The boy was spun around all too easily. His reaction time had dulled, clouded by both his frustration and immediate regret, leaving him open for all four of Sukuna’s hands to find purchase and do what he pleased with it. Their master’s upper set of arms was responsible for wrapping around Yuji’s neck and putting pressure on the back of his head respectively, effectively placing the boy into a chokehold. Not enough force was needed or utilized to do harm. They merely acted as a warning while the lower set took hold of Yuji’s arms to prevent retaliation. Should the boy kick or squirm, he’d only press himself further against his father, whose stomach had no qualms with opening wide and making it known that only teeth awaited him… one’s imagination would have to fill in the rest.
The whole display was… Uraume would refrain from attributing any negative thought to it. Endearing would be a kinder word. At least there were no guests over to witness the two
“You have Shrine, you brat.” Sukuna growled in Yuji’s ear, continuing to wrestle him into place. “Start a fire yourself.”
“If I could, I would have burn—burned your stupid house down!” Yuji shouted without any filter, snapping back in a last futile effort to free himself. His threat was an empty one.
“You’ve shown me that you have Dismantle.”
“I was taught nothing. You— Your counterpart, awful teacher. Not my… Never cared to show me.”
With everything Uraume had discerned about their master’s counterpart, the revelation was far from surprising. Yuji had never made an effort to correct their assumptions, either. Truly, the only relationship the two held was one of complementary opposition.
“You use Dismantle from observation and instinct, then?” Sukuna mused over what that meant, the time that would be taken to absorb an understanding of how it worked and hone the ability effectively. The boy’s precision spoke for itself. From tired vexation to intrigue worth pursuing, their master refrained from immediate punishment in order to make the most of the opportunity before him. “You should be grateful that, unlike him, I am here to enlighten you on the rest. Not every sorcerer has a mentor to explain what insight innate techniques fail to grant upon manifesting.”
Shrine was not a cursed technique one could find in records predating their master’s ascension.
While many cursed techniques are bound to bloodlines and passed along from one generation to the next, each one could trace their origin back to a spontaneous awakening within the technique’s founder. Prominent sorcerer clans attribute the nature of inherited techniques to their continued claim to power. The generational knowledge passed on, accumulated with further experimenting that only multiple lifetimes can provide, allowed those cursed techniques to be honed to a razor-fine edge. Sukuna did not have a predecessor to whom to turn. He did not have the benefit of a long, and fruitful years to discover his innate power. The cultivation and perfection of Shrine was nothing short of a prodigious act. Learning that Yuji had only months to study and comprehend sorcery to the level he currently displayed only fell in line with the one who came before him.
Their master released the boy’s arms as they were going to be needed in a moment. Thankfully, Yuji did not act rashly, still all too aware of the arms that kept his head in place and eyes facing forward for the demonstration ahead.
“Imagine two blades.” Sukuna brought his open hand before Yuji’s face, stretching it a bit further to give him room to work. “When they clash, metal striking metal, the sparks of collision set the foundation for heat to build and embers to form.”
The boy looked at his father quizzically. He did not immediately grasp the point of his words until the prelude of embers before Sukuna’s flames burst forth from his fingertips. It was a small, very subdued version of the unrelenting pyre Uraume, which was used to witness once previous techniques were exhausted. One that fit in their master’s palms easily snuffed out by the pinching of his fingers, only to ignite again in a bolder display upon spreading them out once more.
“The warmth of a hearth is quite literally at your fingertips.” With another harsh movement, Sukuna grabbed Yuji’s hand and brought it forward, manually splaying the fingers apart until they were of acceptable posing. “Begin with creation, then formation, and you’ll find that these flames are more malleable than most.”
Yuji is then prompted to mimic his father’s movements. However, something that many would generally be enthusiastic about experiencing left the boy hesitant and full of melancholy. He wasn’t scared of the flames, but through his eyes, Uraume could see that his heart held no love for them. That may explain why he struggled so sincerely with replicating the results of his father’s demonstration. His hands moved stiffly, but the cursed energy within him matched well enough for the requirements of ignition to align.
Unfortunately, Yuji’s current disposition— whether their master picked up on it or not —would not get him out of the trouble his previous actions had put him in.
“We will continue doing this until you get it right. Do not ruin this technique as well.”
The added pressure from their master’s words did no favors toward Sukuna’s desires, but there was little that could be done to interfere. Uraume simply bowed their head after enough time had passed and worked elsewhere, checking in from time to time as the pair worked on cultivating the flames of Shrine’s Furnace well into the night. The most Uraume could get away with was adding a few additional treats they happened to find when reorganizing the kitchen’s stores to the long-forgotten tea tray. Any little bit helped in increasing one’s energy stories, though eventually Yuji did pass out from his father’s rigorous demands. He’d created motes of light, only a handful to hover and flicker about before ultimately being snuffed by the wind.
Sukuna’s flames were akin to wildfire. Dangerous and unruly, a power that one needed to assert dominance and command over to beckon in any direction or shape he chose. In a short time, Yuji managed to maintain the burning Furnace in his palms; his fire was soft and initially calm. Should it remain, the life that started from such a meek existence could be coaxed into something vicious and willing to burst, but it remained close and tame as the color shifted beyond the expected red and orange hues. In the end, both shared the same intensity, despite one being far more fleeting.
Their master may have only frowned at the final result, but being able to do that after one session was something to be proud of in itself. Stubbornness often had a tendency to get in the way of sincerity. But the feeling was present nonetheless.
Notes:
Notes:
-Yuji, please don't cut your hair off because of the little Kuna comment. Q.Q (I won't have him do it, but it would be so funny if he tried to use dismantle to cut his own hair!)
-Yorozu is... a lot. I enjoyed her appearance in the manga, as much as I wished for time with Tsumiki, I ADORED all the silly reactions she can get out of Sukuna with here unwanted advances. She is the OG Sukuna simp, I swear. However, in spite of that, I wanted to give her more depth beyond that, so having her know a skill to pass on and be a bit empathetic and respectful toward Sukuna's time with Yuji was something I had in mind to offset her wild personality.
Another note, she is not naked! (Uraume references her tendency to avoid clothes tho) And while I didn't name her outfit, I picture her wearing a tsuboshozoku sugata which is a traveling noble woman's attire.
-Poetry! Yahoo! Tanka poetry was a staple of Heian Era courting. I've written it before, but for those who don't read my more ship-related works, the structure for a Tanka poem looks at a syllable flow of 5-7-5-7-7. Think of a Haiku with two extra lines. Yorozu poem would look like this:My dear Sukuna…
A King for my yearning eyes.
Desperate to caress,
dreaming to be held in turn.
Blessed teachings of true love.-The Biwa is a stringed instrument that was introduced from China during either the Nara or Early Heian period. I particularly enjoyed listening to it after finding several compilations of songs on YouTube to experience. This instrument and its many variants were used in a variety of ways, but my favorite is the accompaniment to storytelling. Yuji won't become proficient in it by any means quickly, but being able to play a few notes can really go a long way when getting started.
-The education system we're more familiar with today has evolved waaaay beyond what it was like in the Heian era. There were provincial schools and higher learning opportunities in the capital, but all were reserved for the elite. Commoners were taught what they needed to get by to continue their way of life. Yuji may not be the highest scoring student of his class, but in the past his knowledge base and growing skills in the arts leaves him very well-rounded.
-The sing Yuji was trying to remember was either an opening for Dragon Ball/Dragon Ball Z or Naruto. There are some great classics there, I think it would be fun if Yuji tried explaining of the series to Uraume sometime.
-Yuji threatening Sukuna with calling Yorozu mom had me giggling when writing it. Then countering Sukuna's prickly personality just by ignoring him was too good to pass up.
-Snow falls, Yuji's first instinct is to build a snowman.
-Sukuna's fire aspect of Shrine, I've seen it translated to both Divine Flame & Furnace. I like both. I think both fit his theming well, but I ended up going with Furnace to lean into the cooking thing more. Malevolent Shrine could also go by its alternate translations to fit that theming better as well, but I do love that name a lot. So, it's coming down to preference here!
-While it's an early note, I want to talk about it here, Tengen!!! I didn't initially plan for this, but I decided that with the seeds already planted, we may as well have Tengen visit to make use of our Heian Era cast members.
Except Angel. Sorry. Not invited to the party this time. :'(
Observe the impact of a fallen star -> The Fallen was one of the translations for a title Angel called Sukuna during the Culling game arc. His 'impact' is a reference to Yuji, being a creation derived from him. And as for the star bit... well, I can't give everything away.That should be all! Edits and fixes will come as needed.
I've finally decided on a clear vision of how to end this fic and how many chapters are needed to get there. I don't think I'll be able to finish it this month, but we shall see! (Worst case, first week of November) The JJK manga may be over, but I'll still be here working on my stories for a good while yet.
Thank you all so much for reading! Take care and have a wonderful rest of the week! <3
Chapter 10: Is He Human, Or Is He Something Else?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Their master sulked just as his son did. Quiet and alone, sprawled out with his back flush against the floor once after his restless mind refused to yield. One leg could be found bent outward, while the upper set of hands were folded behind Sukuna’s head, leaving the lower set to lie as nothing more than dead weight on either end. Uraume had found Yuji in similar poses every so often. When the boy’s mind drifted elsewhere, caught in a repeating thought or reflecting on something that struck a bit too deep… The eventual fall to the floor and sigh had been an early sign of the boy’s sorrow, even before he could hold a conversation.
It would have brought a smile to Uraume’s face to log yet another mannerism shared between them, but context kept them from doing so. Seeing either upset brought the same emotion to stir in Uraume’s chest. Their master’s previous depression had crept back into the forefront of his mind.
Why?
Within the inner sanctum of the shinden, hidden away by a layer of opaque screens and permanent walls to conceal its heart, was where Uraume found their master in the very pose just described. Sukuna did this surrounded by the spoils of war he’d collected over many years of never-ending conflict. Treasures lined the walls and piled high from the floors, forgoing the tables once out to display them for haphazard spillage, getting ever so close to filling the space whole. Cursed tools of all varieties and texts on any subject one could name were scattered among paintings, rare silks, and gemstones plucked from sentimental heirlooms. All amassed into one place, for no other reason other than the simple fact that Sukuna could, so he did.
Hoarding wealth for the sake of possessing it was an unappealing waste of time. If there was no purpose behind an action that would produce a tangible effect, then why bother? Sukuna’s interest lay in what his stolen treasures drew out. The perception of others, the value they put on it, whether it be a simple prize, a recovered symbol of one’s revenge for their clan’s disparaging loss for any who could conquer the King of Curses in battle. The extrinsic value of his spoils should sway the greediest of hearts and what time it did. But like all things, the challengers were whittled down one by one, and the delusions of grandeur were meant by the harsh reality that none had ever come close to besting the sole guard in its way.
“Sukuna-sama.” Uraume bowed their head as they stood at the entrance, their shadow stretching into the otherwise gloom-ridden chamber. “Is everything alright?”
“It is nothing to concern yourself with.”
Despite dismissing them away with his words, Sukuna still sat up to acknowledge Uraume properly. After doing so, their master’s chin fell on his palm, eyes and mind elsewhere while he still gestured for Uraume to approach. Initially, it was only silence between them. Uraume was unsure if they should speak right away, or if Sukuna had something else prepared. It would become clear that the latter was not the case, with a mind overrun by a storm that Uraume could not navigate without a clear understanding of its origin.
“All I ever do is show concern for you.” Uraume sat on their knees before their master, asserting their intentions to be nothing but benign. “You may not always require it, but I vowed to always keep you and your desires in mind the day I swore my oath.”
“I never asked you to make a speech.”
“Yet you enjoyed it all the same. I still remember your laugh.” It was a moment of over-the-top declaration that Uraume’s cheeks would often burn from should the intrusive memory resurface. But here and now, the recollection was a fond one. One that Sukuna’s frown would break out of as the secondary mouth on his stomach let out the faintest laugh in opposition to his pouting face. “If something is upsetting you, then I must do all I am able to relieve you of the cause. Even if you simply wish for an ear, I have two.”
Sukuna contemplated their offer.
“It may not be wise to assume, but this would not have anything to do with Yuji-sama and his developing cursed technique, would it?” And just like that, Uraume’s words caused Sukuna’s left eyebrow to twitch. There was no hiding it now.
“He does not share his progress with me beyond what he discovers during the times I demand his presence.” It was childish to mumble. Sukuna knew that and Uraume did too, but no one was going to judge the consequence of speaking with one’s palm still pressed firmly against their jaw.
“You did scold him for manifesting flames of another color.” Blue, to be precise. While Yuji’s flames would initially appear like his father's, over time, they burned brighter and, in a few instances, hotter by comparison. They also tended to fade faster as a result, as the boy would quite literally burn through his own cursed energy to fuel the furnace and nothing else. He could not balance using the technique in tandem with anything beyond brute force, which was something Sukuna wished to see change.
“It was a jest. The color hardly matters when his fists are entirely enveloped and firmly planted in his opponent’s chest.” True, but there are kinder tones to take when sharing the sentiment. “Did you know he summons them to act as nothing more than a torch? He does not invoke heat from them, either, as I’ve caught the pup chasing after motes of light to snap within its teeth.”
“I have… observed it. He wished to show how high he could get little Sa—the wolf pup, to jump. It is a remarkable level of skill to manipulate the technique as quickly as he has.” Uraume admitted without any of the amusement or delight that was felt when it had occurred. The boy would often look for practicality in his abilities, as they had caught him using dismantle after confirmation that he possessed it when assisting with meal preparation. There were many instances in which Uraume shared with their master’s son that Sukuna should have been a part of or have taken their place. None of them were done on purpose; rather, they had taken advantage of the moment to engage with his son and learn more about him. Was Sukuna upset with them? “Would you have preferred that he called for you instead? That I should have—”
“You are not being blamed for his preference and my apparent envy over it.” A raised hand from their master appeared in front of Uraume’s face, further relieving them of guilt. “We share this cursed technique, and it has been my prompting that has led him to consider relying on it after coming into his own. It is not only the use of Furnace that is eating away at me, but a culmination of events. I wish to know why there cannot be a time when he shares something and does so in a way I understand. He has developed a wider vocabulary, and while his thoughts are still splintered…”
Their master’s sentence was left to hang without an end, but Uraume understood the frustration at hand. It wasn’t only the glimpses of improvement during their time together that Sukuna wished to see, but smaller steps along the way. Perhaps he intended to keep comparing his son’s development to his own. Additionally, growth was not only measured in sorcery. Yuji had demonstrated an interest in skill in other subjects. Sukuna permitted his continued indulgence in them, yet he did not seek his patron first whenever his son grew content enough to share his work. Rarely did he seek anyone. Uraume just happened upon him at the perfect time. They had attempted to steer him in that direction, but to no avail. Too intent on keeping his anger and resentment despite the generosity he has been shown, it was all too easy for Yuji to take the moments their philosophies collided and the harsh mannerisms of his father as the only thing that mattered.
Which, in turn, was their master’s own fault. Uraume was reluctant to say it, but much of what made Sukuna the King of Curses directly went against what his son looked for in another for companionship. His son responded best to encouragement, understanding, and patience— genuine displays of these traits, or else Kenjaku would have maybe stood a chance. There was a specific way one could go about it, and Sukuna was not that person. Everyone here knew and accepted that expectations were managed accordingly, but that did not mean that Sukuna was not still impeding his goals.
“The brat has not spoken to me since the previous morning. I overlooked last night’s meal, but this morning, he did not appear at all.” Sukuna tilted his head back in thought. Uraume could easily recall the shift in his son’s behavior as he did, but it wasn’t too uncommon for Yuji to skip meals for a multitude of reasons. “Was it because of that inane question?”
Uraume’s posture corrected itself from the mild hunch that came with intense thought.
“What question?”
“Have you not observed him charging at me?”
“He did it again?” That would be the third time Yuji had done so with reckless abandon in four days. Every time, without fail, Yuji would lightly jump at his father to be caught by whatever hands were available to react. An impish game. Playful, almost mundane. What really stood out beyond the apparent deviation from the boy’s usual behavior was that he did not say a word, appearing puzzled at the result of his actions. This would leave Sukuna even more puzzled, as he would have not received an explanation for either of the two times Uraume had been able to observe.
“This time, after catching the brat, I held him upside down by the ankles and demanded to know the purpose of his antics and how long he intended to do them for. His response? He wanted to know why I kept catching him at all.”
There was a pause that followed. One that Uraume had to eventually end by pressing for Sukuna to finish his tale.
“Well?”
“I do not know. I refuse to dodge an obviously telegraphed attack, and I do not see a reason to put in the effort to counter him if he is not serious.”
“I do not believe it is an attack, Sukuna-sama.” A sigh accidentally escaped Uraume’s chest, causing their master to scoff in turn. This time, Uraume would not feel guilty about it. Especially if what Uraume suspected regarding Yuji’s reasoning was right…
“Beyond the recent tantrum, the brat hasn’t returned in the evening either. Giving him that beast was a mistake.” Sukuna continued, for lack of a better term, to whine.
It was not as if he couldn’t go into the boy’s quarters and drag him out at any moment. But that would imply that all Sukuna wanted was Yuji’s presence and nothing more. That would fail to address the issue regarding what his son wanted. Their master would like nothing more than for desires to align and for Yuji to appear on his own.
And again, this was surely a consequence of past behavior. Sukuna did not mince words, nor did he hold back his crueler tendencies when with his son. It was his way of reprimand and it could be far worse. It could always be worse. Yet, the inherent nature on display went against the outcome Sukuna desired during the brief moments he was willing to soften for the boy. The constant battle between the two, never truly connecting with one another, was becoming infuriating to watch. Uraume knew that they should not feel this way, but they could not help it.
“Why do I even care?” Truly, his servant wanted to know as well. “I need to test something. Uraume, if you would come closer.”
Without delay, Uraume stood up and took a few steps forward until their feet barely touched Sukuna’s own. When standing at their full height, they only managed to barely meet their master at eye level when he remained seated. Sukuna would remain that way, in contrast to Uraume, who was soon picked up by his lower set of arms while the higher pair were attentive enough to keep them from falling over during the transition into Sukuna’s lap.
To be this close to their master was not a rare occurrence by any means, but the lack of warning certainly left Uraume a bit flustered. It was only after they sat through several positions between different spots on Sukuna’s legs, cradled in either arm or lying on their back across everything, working to keep their neck from arching at a bad angle.
“It is not the same.” Sukuna mumbled as he brought Uraume back to sitting in a more comfortable position on his right knee, clearly disappointed in the impulsive experiment.
“Not the same as when your son sits with you?” Uraume narrowed down Sukuna’s meaning. When they did not receive a correction, they took it as a means to continue. “While I am aware that it is out of place for me to say this, I wonder if it is because you are yearning for something you do not have and cannot easily gain. You already have my complete loyalty and adoration. Yuji-sama, however…”
Sukuna made it clear with titles, how the boy was addressed, and every action he took. He would not permit just anyone to have permanent residence in his home. In the case of his son, the offer of education, both generalized and in sorcery, the gifts with the boy’s interest in mind, the clothes Yuji currently wore on his back— All of this went against his selfish tendencies to pursue whatever sated his hunger and nothing more. Uraume knew they were a previous exception to a fundamental rule their master lived by. This boy was the second, and now Sukuna had to navigate what that meant.
“He craves companionship, clearly, but not with me. He kicks himself for considering it.”
“I believe—It is clear that his interactions with your counterpart had done considerable damage to any potential relationship you two may ever have. The Sukuna he knew proved himself untrustworthy. Someone to hate with every fiber of his being.” The portrait of Uraume’s own counterpart flashed before their eyes. It was a reminder that they were not exempt from comparison, either. “I can only guess that Yuji-sama may be more open with me because mine did not offend nearly as much.”
“He looks at me and sees another. I am well aware of that. He should also comprehend that the comparison between me and my counterpart is insulting. Clearly, I have treated him with more care than I suspect the sorcerers had. I have not ordered his execution.” Their master slammed his fist into the ground, rattling the many scattered treasures surrounding them. “I have done what is expected of a father and more without question. Should that not be obvious? Should he not be grateful?”
“That may be true, but Yuji-sama… some behaviors you exhibit outweigh everything else. They confirm in his mind that he is right to be wary. It is the safer option to avoid further pain.”
The autumn harvest festival came to mind. Sukuna’s decision to take that young noblewoman’s life was a stark reminder to Yuji of how different their beliefs were. A difference that was once again put front and center before the departure from the fishing village. Yuji was a kind and selfless being. His empathy countered what his father lacked, ensuring that they would come to blows, as it would seem that his stubbornness may be forever unyielding. Yet, when they left the village, a piece of middle ground was forged between them. An unspoken acknowledgment of opposing viewpoints. If one could not be convinced to adopt the other’s beliefs… Was there a chance they could coexist in spite of that?
“This may be a controversial suggestion, but have you spoken with him about any of this? About your expectations and intentions?”
Uraume’s question led to Sukuna turning his head, prepared to speak in any other direction. He stopped himself midway, cursing under his breath before confronting Uraume directly.
“I have not. By the time he made enough progress from your lessons… I did not believe that it would need spelling out.”
And yet… There they were with barely any progress in their relationship from the day Yuji was first brought into their master’s home. As tempting as it was to remark on this in an attempt to return common sense to their master’s head, Uraume stopped themselves from doing so. Their words would have only served to mock one who was not used to navigating this precarious path with another.
“These feelings are bothersome. Infuriating. I had thought I had done away with them a long time ago, as they were of no use to me. All they do is remind me of—” Sukuna lowered himself back onto the ground, leaving Uraume to settle as they pleased on the ground with their back against their master’s hip. Never had the second mouth bothered them. Even now, with it breathing so close to Uraume’s ear, they knew nothing but affection toward every aspect of their master, which made him whole. “I cannot fathom my own hatred toward a version of me that will never impact my existence directly. The worst part is that I cannot find fault in my counterpart’s view of the brat as a means to an end. An obstacle to overcome once the vessel Kenjaku promised creation chose to assert and maintain autonomy. I would have done the same, developed a resentment for waiting so long only to be denied the very freedom and experiences I was promised… But after claiming the boy as my kin, everything regarding him has painted my judgment in a new light that cannot be undone. This effect that boy’s presence has had on me was unwanted, unneeded, and now I must endure it.”
Admittedly, Uraume was taken aback by the confession. For someone so adamant against forming close ties, unwavering bonds, or amicable alliances with anyone else in this world, the appearance of one boy had managed to throw his heart into disarray. Was doubt beginning to form? This was a time of self-reflection, but would it be a new revelation as well? If any other were to have caused this much turmoil in their master’s mind, Uraume would have cursed them without reprieve. Yuji was not any other, and they had unwittingly let the boy responsible benefit from their endearment to him.
“I will speak with him. Perhaps not today, as I need time to sort my words appropriately. He has a horrible tendency to test me whenever we’re together.”
“Do you not goad reactions from him in turn?” A bit overcome by exhaustion, Uraume held back the need to yawn while resting their head against their master's stomach. It was all too easy to close their eyes. Their conversation had been a heavy one, coming off the trail of a day full of tasks that plucked away at their energy bit by bit. Time to rest their body and mind would be a blessing, and Sukuna, who was aware of all their hard work, was willing to grant it.
“I do not recall.” The dry delivery almost masked the humor in his response.
At least it was not denial.
“I have the utmost faith in you, Sukuna-sama.” Uraume then felt the weight of their master’s hand upon their head. It wasn’t so much as ironic that someone known for being cruel and callous to the world who scorned him first was so drawn to the touch of others, but deeply saddening.
“You always do.”
No conversation came occurred between father and son the next day.
Uraume did not expect it to, as it was apparently too soon for their master to get his act together. When and how the conversation occurred was something he swelled on, as was where they sat, considering it would not be a brief exchange. The hesitation to do something so personal was… adorable. There was no better way to say it, though Uraume would not say the word out loud. It was bad enough that the many hints offered to assist with the task ahead were ignored, and they could not say whether or not it was on purpose.
Regardless, the issue was dropped, and the day went on relatively easily. Yuji had enough things to occupy himself with should he be left alone— time for which he was grateful —and Uraume had enough general tasks to keep them comfortably busy.
Annoyance would trickle in on the second day, however, as Sukuna once again pushed the discussion back, though he claimed he had a good reason for it.
The estate’s pond had frozen over. Mostly. There was a large enough area with thick enough ice to support the weight of one energetic boy.
How did Uraume know this? Because they had dashed outside to the assortment of shouts and groans that came from a particular young master sliding uncontrollably on the ice with arms spread out wide until he fell and a curious pup eager to test the strange new surface for himself. An effort was made to assess the rest of the pond— the boy was fine, he repeatedly said so himself before making the same mistake again —only this time, it earned the light mockery of laughter from his father, who had stepped outside to watch him continue to make a fool out of himself.
“What are you doing, Yuji-sama?” Uraume called out, utterly confused as to why so much fun was to be had in one disaster after the next. “If you fall through—”
“I am careful!” Yuji responded just before he lifted one leg too high up into the air, thus offsetting his balance beyond recovery. And down he went. “Mostly.”
Uraume, still squatting down near the more precarious section of the pond, made quick work of thickening the ice to prevent any chance of the boy breaking through the ice unless he were to intentionally smash through it. This was not to encourage him. But Uraume knew it was unlikely that they could prevent him from this source of entertainment once he mastered the art of sliding from one side to the other without interruption.
Now, if only he knew how to stop himself before tumbling into the snow bank. The best he came to figuring that out was changing the position of his feet in full confidence that it would work, only to come into contact with the bridge he usually stood upon. Grabbing hold of it would not prevent his lower body from sliding, sending him flying underneath with his back flush against the ice.
Even Sukuna felt the jolt of cold second-hand upon witnessing the boy’s fumble.
“Is that supposed to be fun?” Sukuna questioned, his forehead now in his palms as second-hand embarrassment had also bore its way into him. “What are you even trying to accomplish?”
“Y-Yes!” Yuji answered without hesitation, his arms and legs shaking from the lack of stable footing. The poor boy had gotten himself stuck in the pond's center and was now struggling to stand again. “I am try—trying to—”
An unknown word came out. He did not know the best way to translate what he wanted. Yuji would have to make his way to land in order to demonstrate the concept adequately.
“I need blades… blades for my feet.” The boy raised his arms out, making sweeping motions as he attempted a strange dance with spins and twirls that was probably meant to flow more than it looked. “I need the blades to dance. On the ice.”
“Ice dancing?” Uraume had not heard of the concept. It sounded both exceedingly beautiful and terribly precarious to wear blades on one’s feet to do it. Especially if that someone was struggling with keeping his balance, was it meant to be deadly?
“That sounds like you are making it up.” Sukuna shook his head. “There have been outlandish things that have come from your mouth, but I draw the line believing something like that is real. You had me at the name, but your movements are embarrassing.”
“I never… never said that I was good!” Little Sato barked at Sukuna alongside his master, jumping about as it seemed to have gained a bit of confidence so long as Yuji was present. “And it is real! I will show— I will draw it, and you will see!”
Yuji turned around and used the pond as his exit. He held his balance just long enough for the transition from one side to the other to go smoothly, with a forward roll into the snowbank, which allowed him to end up on his feet and continue running all the way to his quarters. Just as quickly as he’d left, the boy returned with a handful of sheets and writing implements in his hands, demanding full attention as he worked by Sukuna’s side while half explaining what he was showing in language made more sense to his mind. No matter how detailed he drew the necessary footwear or the stances these strange dancers took, Sukuna would not relent on his initial stance that it was all a made-up fantasy, forcing Yuji to find more ways to explain it in the hopes of getting his father to believe him.
If Uraume had to guess, they suspected that Sukuna believed the boy was telling the truth and was only messing with him as a way to keep Yuji engaged in a conversation not related to cursed energy or his personal history regarding sorcery— It was a mundane subject, something Sukuna would attempt to continue with varying degrees of success.
It was not until the day ended that Uraume realized that father and son had not had their talk. They had been too caught up in watching Yuji perfect a move he claimed to have witnessed on the ice, wishing to translate the experience when still images were not enough. While there was technically no time limit for this heart-to-heart to take place, Uraume feared that the longer Sukuna put it off, the less likely the conversation would happen on his terms.
And that was precisely what happened.
Ever since Yorozu’s arrival and subsequent departure, Uraume had noticed an edge to Sukuna’s mannerisms that had gone unspoken until now. Uraume repeatedly wished that it was Yorozu’s appearance and nothing more than had caused him the level of consistent unrest. They knew that they were wrong, that much of the blame lay in the unresolved conflict between father and son, and the anticipated arrival of a specific someone with whom Sukuna was not excited to engage.
The Fallen was a title not often used, as was The Disgraced now that the King of Curses had taken its place in popular usage and difference. Ryomen Sukuna was not invoked as often, on the simple grounds that it was usually associated with being a name for those whose ties were close or those whose desire for respect had waned to use. Superstition that speaking it outside his presence would act as a beacon to herald his arrival was another belief many commoners held. For Tengen to use The Fallen in her description was an obvious allusion to anyone who could piece it together. Sukuna, being the primary target, considering that he was the one that she appeared to be traveling to meet.
It was only a matter of when The Immortal One would appear that left a harrowing amount of uncertainty. Uraume had not stood in the presence of Tengen before. Their experiences with her solely rested in tales of others, and the messages passed along from Kenjaku whenever he poked his nose where it did not belong. Sukuna grew quick to anger at the mention of her name; thus, Uraume never saw a need to want or look forward to their paths eventually crossing.
Sukuna was tempted to leave the estate and go on another journey elsewhere. Somewhere far, remote, and preferably with a destination that made travel worth the effort. Doing so with Yuji would be troublesome. That was the excuse their master gave for dropping the thought. The truth was that running was cowardice. Delaying the inevitable would not solve the problem he could not physically obliterate and move on from.
Uraume did not know if it was a matter of ability or willingness, nor would they ask.
Anticipation continued to leave their master tense. Uraume felt the same in turn. The day that very anticipation was realized began less than noteworthy. Irritable weather and constant cloud cover blanketed the estate in a dreary atmosphere. The previous day’s non-stop cursed technique training had left Yuji drained and Sukuna content enough with the boy’s consistent progress that he accepted a day of rest to follow. Said rest included Yuji switching his focus back to his instrument and his lyrics, mostly toying around with sounds that pleased him while Sukuna stood outside his quarters and inquired just how serious he was about his developing skill.
Agreeing to grant Yorozu permission to tutor him was a poor choice, just as the pup was. Sukuna made his loathing known to any who would hear it, but at the same time, it was not as if Sukuna knew of or trusted anyone else to take her place. Good fortune was the reason Yuji had not pestered for contact to be made, and that luck would continue to stave off any more unruly visits from that wild woman.
The same could not be said for The Immortal One tapping at the edge of their master’s recently reinforced barrier.
One tap. Two. Then a third, all light as a feather with the sharp end of a pick chipping away at the curses woven into it piece by piece. Uraume could only imagine how grating that act may feel upon one’s head, as Sukuna often attuned himself with this particular feat of sorcery to catch any and all who stepped in or out of his vicinity.
It was not until the cracks in the barrier climbed up into the sky and shattered that Sukuna acknowledged it with disgust, and a single name spat from his mouth.
“Tengen.”
Immediately, Yuji dropped his things, trying and failing to collect them before the inevitable fumble toward the ground. He did show much concern. With his attention fixated on the visitor waiting for them, he was already scrambling to join Sukuna and Uraume outside to greet Tengen personally with little Sato in tow.
Only the boy’s head would cross the threshold before Sukuna raised a hand to prevent the rest of him from charging forward. Their master would deny Yuji’s excitement. His curiosity. And certainly, the hope sparkling in his eyes just by the mere mention of someone he was familiar with in an era far beyond this one. Sukuna did not yet know how much his son knew Tengen or if he even knew her well, but just hearing him say her name continued to aggravate him.
“Remain here.”
“But— I know Tengen-sama.” Yuji insisted he be there, impatient hands already shoving against his father’s arm, only to be surprised by just how adamant Sukuna was in his stance.
“I do not care how you perceive her, let alone that you apparently know her well enough to speak so animated as you do.”
“I… Only know a little…But I want to know more!”
The confession only served to Irk their master more. From where Uraume stood, a vein became visible on his forehead. And the sound of hearing his teeth grind against one another was not a welcome one.
“Tengen does not care if the world thrives or dies. She is not a paragon of virtue. Her nature is apathetic, it only happens to align with humanity and its ever present battle against the curses they created.” Sukuna turned around to face the boy directly, a set of arms crossed as he glared down at him. A single breath, heavy and full of restraint kept Sukuna from shouting. That did not mean the intensity waned. “That ancient hag has already stated that it is not within her power to assist you in this futile desire to return to this era. You have no reason to engage with her. Now stay.”
No time was granted for further objection. No means for Yuji to react was offered, as Sukuna took advantage of his speed to shove Yuji back into his quarters and slam the shoji screen shut just as a ghastly look overtook the boy’s face. A regular paper screen would not be enough to hold Yuji back on its own, but a simple barrier using the outer edges of the boy’s quarters as its base to seal him in would. Sukuna had refrained from revealing this tactic of control simply because he did not think he would require it. But his child was stubborn, and with a nature too opposed with his father’s own, the chances of Yuji inserting himself into a conversation Sukuna starkly refused to permit him into were quite high.
“Sukuna!” Yuji screamed through the barrier, his voice damped by it, just as the impact of his strikes was muted and absorbed. “Let me out!”
“It is best that you remain here. Return to your songs, busy yourself until she is dealt with.” Sukuna had ignored the improper address, choosing to walk away without hesitation or remorse.
“You can’t—Don’t do this!”
Uraume would naturally follow, their footsteps less certain, only because the sound of Yuji’s desperate pleas to join and promises to behave had tugged on their heart more than they should. More steps were required for the boy’s shouting to fade from their ears. More steps to contemplate on their master’s sudden desire to keep Yuji out of their meeting when previously, he’d shown no care whether the boy appeared or not.
“Sukuna! You—Father!?” The switch to something meant to sway Sukuna’s mind would not work. Calling out for another to do so in his stead just as they thought he was far enough away… “Uraume!”
“Sukuna-sama—” The words came out before Uraume could even register them. What was their purpose? What were they trying to achieve?
“My decision is final.” Sukuna snapped, only to reel back his outburst with a hand clutching his temple. A moment was required once again as he dragged that very hand down his face, disappointed with what came over him. “It is in his best interest that they do not— He will eventually understand.”
Eventually.
Always eventually. In time. Will, but never when. Uraume could only give an internal sigh. There was no use in arguing about it now, not when someone as grand as The Immortal One, who carried the foundations of sorcery as they know it in her very palms, awaited them.
“Were you not going to invite me to pass through?”
It was Tengen who spoke first. She stood before the estate’s front steps, barely standing out from the snowfall if it wasn’t for the black obi wrapped around a pale and unassuming kosode. Tengen’s hair did her no favors either. She let it cascade in an unruly manner from her head, with some strands covering her own face with no intention to brush them aside. What surprised Uraume the most was just how young and old she appeared. Hair in a similar shade to Uraume’s own and the sharp eyes with a bit of baggage beneath them would have one believe her to be far older than what her otherwise taut skin and an otherwise youthful physique would work in contrast. Her words were also crisp and full of vigor that one would not associate with stories of an ancient and supposedly wise master.
Uraume did not know what they expected when faced with The Immortal One, which was only a few paces from where they stood, but they would not have predicted this either. Were these contrasting features the result of the merger a few decades prior? Relatively speaking, it was quite recent.
“Kenjaku had mentioned that you have been a decent host as of late. Aside from when you wish that he vacates, it is his own fault for thinking that he may come and go on a whim. He has always been like that and never cared to learn otherwise.”
Was that not what she was doing? Coming here uninvited? Uraume would not say it. Neither did Sukuna, but their master appeared to possess the same thought in his mind.
Compared to their master, Tengen possessed an entirely different presence. One that felt to be all-encompassing, seeping into the area beyond the physical form which kept her spirit anchored. Her voice was not as eager to jump into the fray either. She did not rush through her thoughts in a frantic effort to catch each one. Tengen went through the motions she had done so countless times.
Only now, it would take several tries before Sukuna was willing to engage with her.
“Where is he?”
“Who?” Sukuna tightened his gaze, refusing to offer any easy answers.
“The child I have been hearing so much about. If it is not Kenjaku strutting into my sanctum, then it is the worried voices of students and their elders stuck in uncertainty.” Tengen looked around, her face unchanging at the confirmation that Yuji was absent.
“The brat is occupied with his studies.”
“Studies? Of what kind? I heard you are indulging him in the arts.”
“Why are you so surprised by that?”
Every word Tengen spoke, regardless of meaning or tone, caused offense.
“Surprised? No.” The correction came with an obvious sigh before Tengen gestured to the darkening clouds above and then the building snow at everyone’s feet. “I am going through what I recall to make conversation while I stand in the snow and wait for my host to guide me to a warm chamber to rest in. I want to avoid wasting the unneeded effort of preventing my limbs from succumbing to frost, as there are better ways to spend eternity.”
“I am well aware.”
Sukuna turned heel and trudged inside, speaking nothing, offering nothing as Tengen was permitted to follow. There were no orders given for Uraume to depart as they normally would provide simple refreshments for the conversation ahead. The lighting of the brazier was for their master’s own sake, as it was not placed truly centered between host and unwanted guest. All of it was a clear indicator that Sukuna had no desire for Tengen to stay for long. If this were Kenjaku, a snide remark would have been made to call their master’s behavior out. Something along the lines of comparison to a tantrum, but Tengen did nothing of the sort. All four of Sukuna’s eyes tracked her movements as she stepped inside and sat down without complaint. That only seemed to increase the tension as Sukuna took his place across from her, refusing to join her on the ground.
They sat in silence for far too long, waiting for the other to begin again. The crackling of the fire was Uraume’s only company, as their own thoughts were deafening by comparison. Any comment they thought to make, no matter how insignificant, felt as if the other two would hear it. Never had Uraume become so undone by an encounter. Then again, this was Tengen. No other name, no other entity held nearly as much prominence in their world than she.
“Why have you strayed from your pathetic guards to come here?”
And Sukuna spoke to her like any other—Worse than most.
“Was my earlier question not self-explanatory?” Tengen believed her intentions to be obvious. Her tired eyes had even opened more than usual, a bit taken aback by Sukuna’s lack of perception. “I came to see the displaced vessel you claimed as your son with my own eyes.”
Their master let out a laugh. Something in Tengen’s words had left him in a brief state of comical disbelief. Was it her phrasing? The choice of vessel over child as she had before? Uraume wasn’t so sure, as they did not see how it would be amusing, but it felt plausible.
“You are not curious about him for the sake of it. If you were—”
“I could have sent a request for more information by letter instead. Which I did at the end of the one Kenjaku gave to you on my behalf.” Said message had been dismantled to pieces upon being read.
“And I declined to care.” Sukuna did not confirm he had bothered to read all of Tengen’s words, or he only ignored them, but it did not truly matter. Once again, his teeth were clenched tight with fangs all too eager to bite. If it wasn’t for the hand, he kept behind his back to knead an imaginary object between his fingers, surely a more physical reaction would have come by now. “Now you come here to press the issue.”
“I would not have had to come if my inquiries could be answered through another, but Kenjaku is no help. Despite being crafted by his intellect, the vessel you claimed kinship to is currently out of their capabilities to replicate.” Tengen frowned, a hint of sadness appearing among what was supposed to be frustration. Either emotion was hard to tell, given how her demeanor shifted far less than Sukuna’s. “I will admit, I, too, am curious how he was made. What tethers his being to yours? His stability in the wake housing not only you and the immense burden of cursed energy you carry, but other cursed objects holding echoes of individuality of their own… Kenjaku created an impressive container. The ability to withstand all that, and not easily fall apart both physically and mentally is something I cannot ignore.”
Yuji was a unique being, and there was no arguing about that. There were many things about him, either from his impossible origin, by the people with whom he shared relations too, or the personality that developed despite all of it. Yet, the continual emphasis Tengen made on his role as a vessel… She wasn’t suggesting that Yuji could be used for— It was too soon for another Star Plasma Vessel to be chosen!
Did Kenjaku not speak about how Yuji was already used?
The suffering at the root of the boy’s pain he endured, the apparent disdain he holds in reference to the unwanted purpose his mother bestowed upon him. Yuji had fought to maintain control over his own body, which was the whole reason their master’s counterpart would have swapped vessels in the first place—Uraume could not even begin to imagine the horror that came with losing control of one’s limbs, or worse, being stripped of all sense of self or control. Every time he spoke of his past, his history as a vessel, the look on his face was one of someone many years his senior would be haunted by. Sukuna had claimed the boy as his son and nothing else. Tengen daring to suggest that Sukuna cast that away to serve her…
Just as the thought burst through Uraume’s mind, causing their fingers to curl and their breath to become visible to any who looked their way, Sukuna had already come to the same harrowing conclusion.
“The nerve you have to speak any of this in my home.” Their master charged at Tengen with an outstretched hand, thumb upward, the rest of his fingers pointed directly at her face. As if he’d already envisioned the gash he’d cut through her, there was barely any space between the end of his middle finger and Tengen’s forehead. The roof overhead threatened to come down should the foundation shake any further from the turbulent storm of cursed energy Sukuna had brought forth.
One would assume him to shout in rage, but Sukuna did no such thing. The threat that came next was eerily calm. Precise.
“Death may not come for you, but you are not immune to pain. If you so much breathe any intent to use him to prolong your perverted existence—”
“—I had not expected for my words to garner this much of a reaction. My intentions here are not hostile.” Tengen spoke no differently than she had before. She showed no fear toward the unseen blade held against her neck. Uraume suspected that this was not the first time she had been threatened, nor would it be the last. “I am not suggesting that I use him.”
“Then why speak of this at all!?” Any self-control Sukuna wished to present had left. Uraume would attempt to reach out, but to get close to their master when he was so wound up was not ideal. Not that they were in any position to steady another when their own heart was in disarray.
There was no denying it now. Uraume was far too attached to Yuji’s presence in their home.
“Truthfully? It is nothing more than wishful thinking. If I could understand him, If Kenjaku could make another… not that he would ever do it. He has repeated his stance on the continual halting of my evolution every time we meet.” No apology came from Tengen. She had no regret or guilt for her previous lack of clarity. Uraume had begun to see why their master was so easily infuriated by her behavior.
“You prevent yourself from ascending. The fruit of your so-called enlightenment is within your very palms, and you refuse it. It is maddening to all, Kenjaku especially.”
“The same could be said for you, can it not? Your path of selfish indulgence is now hindered by not one, but two. The embodiment of calamity has not forsaken everything in the name of pursuing the very code that brought so many to their knees.” She did not waste time pointing out their master’s hypocrisy, verbally pushing away Sukuna’s hand as if it were nothing to be concerned over. A nerve would be struck by doing so, yet their master did not retake his stance. He preferred to cross his arms and place the additional two on his hips, growling as she shifted the subject away from him just as quickly. “But I digress. My barriers across this land strengthen those created by others, even yourself. The recent construction of specialized purification barriers were made with the intent to limit the birth of cursed spirits altogether. I cannot ascend, for there is no guarantee that my life’s work would not come undone.”
Tengen was the greater force behind this rampant age's slow and bitter end. The gentle nudge that cascaded throughout everything there was. This was not new information to Sukuna, so all it did was toss additional fuel on his ever-burning fire of hatred.
“You coddle them.”
The weak. Or rather, humanity as a whole.
“His name is Yuji. I believe I am correct in saying that, yes? I was waiting for you to tell me, but once again, I only have Kenjaku to learn from.” Tengen did not deny his previous retort. Once again, she ignored it and moved on to the next thing she wished to say. “My stance regarding his future, however, does not change. He is from a time that is not his own, a world next to this one among an infinite number of possibilities. The boy should not be here; his very cursed energy, much of which stems from your own, disrupts the delicate balance I have worked for many centuries to grow.”
Sukuna’s grip on his arms tightened. Tengen was walking a very dangerous line between advice and making demands of him. Could she enforce it? Uraume did not know how the two would compare should a fight break out. Tengen had broken through his barrier with ease, but who knew how long she had to assess it before making her move?
Forever faithful, Uraume would trust that if such a battle were to occur, Sukuna would bring it to a swift and immediate end.
“Is he human, or is he something else? Which side does he fall under in the grand scales that weigh humanity and the curses they create? What else will be disrupted by his existence? If one pictures time as a river, he has forced it to bend and curve in ways it was never intended to. Eventually, all rivers that curve and meander too far from their origin will break apart from the deviation to return to course.” Tengen’s words would not falter as she lowered her head, entrenched in thoughts that must have plagued her since the first news of Yuji’s arrival, reached her ears. The many questions on her mind resembled Kenjaku’s, but the caution and fear present in the unknown had led her to react defensively rather than find delight in the unknown territory they were all thrust into. “What will that break look like? What our world would become once stranded and isolated as the lakes that form… Is he willing to bear the burden of the fallout that may stem from it? I do not wish to ask these questions to you, who perpetuates it, but the boy himself.”
“You speak as if my son is a curse.” Full offense had once again been taken from Tengen’s words. Uraume readily agreed, going so far as to scowl in tandem with Sukuna in response to Tengen's insulting concern. “You have no basis for any of this! You and Kenjaku both spend far too long thinking through theories and concocting scenarios that may never come from explanations I could not care any less about!”
“You are proving my point.” Tengen tilted her head, unsure if she should be disappointed in Sukuna or in herself for expecting any different. “If it were possible to send him back, regardless of your attachment, he should be allowed to return. The two of you were not meant to coexist in this manner. Release him from this game of pretend. It is to my understanding that the roles you have given him do not suit him anyway.”
“Is that not what you do with all your problems? Send them away?” Sukuna sneered. The manner was more exaggerated than Uraume was used to. This subject, the history these two shared, had cut deeper than it should.
“If Yuji cannot return to his own time, he should remain in seclusion with me to monitor and prevent any further obstructions. It may still be possible to undo any damage—”
“No damage has been done.”
The tension in the room had become too suffocating to endure. Uraume refrained from describing what came next as a shouting match, only on the grounds that Tengen refused to shout. The lack of aggression, the lack of emotion goaded Sukuna into pursuing it, leaving Uraume to hastily bow out of the room and escape between anything further could escalate between them.
No orders were given for Uraume to stay. If Sukuna had wished it, he would have prevented them from leaving, though they were left to wonder if he even noticed their retreat as the shouting echoed through the courtyard as Uraume fled further away from the central building. Should they get in trouble for this, the excuse was that Uraume felt it was time to offer some tea to calm their minds, perhaps bring something else to eat if only for the act of chewing to prevent either party from engaging in conversation for a time. The second mouth on Sukuna’s stomach made it tricky, but shoving something sticky into it would undoubtedly keep it occupied.
But first…
This moment of reprieve was just the excuse Uraume needed to check on Yuji. They needed to know how he was, if there was something else that could be done to… Animosity shouldn’t be allowed to fester for long.
“Yuji-sama…” Uraume called out from the stairs, only one step away from reaching the top. They did so cautiously, hoping not to avoid a scare. A calm voice would be more beneficial here, would it not? “Are you alright?”
No response.
Uraume had expected as such but still wished to try again. The guilt from previously ignoring Yuji’s pleas had not left them. Their hands were tied, but that did not make the decision any more tolerable.
There was still time to spare before Sukuna would find the length of their absence noteworthy.
“It was not… Sukuna-sama’s decision to keep you here was not out of spite. It is not my place to speak for him regarding this matter, but please understand it—” What were they to say? Uraume placed their hand on the shoji screen between them. Not to use it as leverage to stand, but to further make their attempt to reach him known by the shadow their body would cast. “Sukuna-sama cares for you, I suppose, in his own way. You do not have to forgive him for this, but if he were to earnestly explain himself… I only request that you listen.”
Once again, there was no response.
That was fine.
Uraume did their part— More than their part.
Whatever came next was for father and son to… to…
What?
Uraume glanced down at their open palm, now shaking in bewilderment. Hastily, they returned it to where it had rested, anxiety rushing through them as the upcoming revelation flooded into their mind with no reprieve. There was greater difficulty in noticing the absence of something than the addition of it. Uraume was aware that simple fact, yet to find the barrier their master had placed nowhere to be found had left them almost too stunned to think. The beat of their heart, initially frozen in shock, thawed quickly to overrun them with an uncontrollable beat in their ears that could not be quelled.
“Yuji-sama!” Uraume shouted, their voice breaking as its pitch grew higher than expected.
There was no boy awaiting them inside. No wolf curled up at his side. All that remained was the echo of cursed energy he left behind, the pieces of his power now reduced to nothing but the cinders scattered around a noticeable hole on the other side of the scarred chamber.
No.
The walls of the boy’s quarters were full of chips and scratches from when the barrier was still active. The floor was no exception, but it would seem that Yuji had quickly discovered it to be a weak spot. A place where his flames could eat through everything in its way, taking advantage of the very effect that dampened his presence to hide his efforts until he was free.
Sukuna hadn’t shown any knowledge of this… That did not mean he was completely ignorant, but if he had known of the boy’s escape—the possibility of escape—why had he gone through all the effort before? Uraume’s thoughts continued to run rampant as they ran a hand along the edge of the hole, noting the size was just enough for Yuji to squeeze through and nothing more. The pup would have naturally jumped down into darkness to give chase, leading Uraume to do the same if they wished to understand where the boy had gone.
Was Sukuna not as attuned to the barrier made in haste, with parameters set just enough to suit his immediate need of keeping Yuji from Tengen and nothing more?
Squatting was necessary to navigate through the space between the ground and the raised foundation the estate was built upon. Aside from the hole directly above, only slivers of light would creep through the floor panels to bring light to areas furthest from the building’s edge. Discomfort would go ignored as Uraume squinted their eyes as tight as they could without closing completely. The soil beneath Yuji’s quarters would have thawed enough to make tracks from his efforts, and indeed it had. Close inspection would point the boy’s first steps in the direction of the estate’s center. And it would be the pup at his side, which gave away the rest of their path, little Sato’s paws marking the surface. All they had to do was... There!
Uraume found where the pup went by the claws that had dug into the frozen dirt.
If the boy had been less careful, Uraume would have been able to track him by the cursed energy left behind each time his foot made contact with the ground or his hand pressed against the floor above or brushed away a weed. What little energy had leaked out had entirely diminished by the time Uraume had found themselves directly beneath the shinden. Light from the brazier had given this area a bit more maneuverability, acting as a beacon to draw the boy’s attention and keep him there.
At least the boy had been there.
Perfectly hidden, no one would have suspected him to be.
“Do you feel fulfilled yet?” That was Tengen’s voice. “Having a child to call your own… Does it bring peace?”
She sounded… oddly genuine. It was not like the masks Kenjaku shifted between, but a sudden and unexpected break in the persona Uraume had expected Tengen to maintain.
Sukuna, however, would not find it worth engaging.
“There is never peace among the living.”
How long had he—How much had Yuji overheard?
At what point of the conversation did he run off?
“I do not believe that to be true.”
“What do you know?” Their master’s voice wavered, his reaction showcasing far more emotion than he would ever wish another to see. Uraume could picture a shaking fist among his flailing hands, all accompanying the stomp that threatened to create another hole in the floor. “What you are— It is not living.”
Sukuna should have known.
Yuji may have been able to hide from Uraume’s senses, but his father’s?
Unless… Tengen had taken up his attention.
“Is there a meaning to this snooping, Uraume?”
The sudden use of their name had Uraume jumping in their skin. Sukuna’s voice had become steady once more, previous composure snapping back into place. No measures were taken to hide themselves from the two above; the thought had never crossed their minds. Thus, it was only a matter of time for the pair to question why they had ventured in the oddest of places.
“Yes, Sukuna-sama…” Uraume muttered just loud enough for their master’s ears to pick up. There was no way they could speak in private like this. If Tengen did not know, then Uraume did not want to be the one to disclose Yuji’s absence. “If you meet me outside the south entrance. I will explain myself.”
Fortunately, Sukuna did not question them further.
Uraume shuffled their way outside, paying close attention to where the tracks continued until they reached where the dirt ended and snow began. Enough white fluff had built up around the stairs, creating a foreboding wall of white that dashed away their immediate hope that there would be more of a trail to follow. A flick of the wrist dispersed the snowbank with ease, but the storm raging in the clouds only ensured that nature itself would continue to work against them.
“Sukuna-sama, I—” Uraume bowed their head, unable to look Sukuna in the eyes when reporting their failure to resolve this situation quickly and without further disturbance. “Yuji-sama is missing. I can only guess where he and the pup went. With the worsening storm…”
They raised a finger, pointing south toward what could possibly be evidence of the boy’s trail between the tree line. Sukuna turned to follow the fleeting path laid out before him. It had taken everything to hold himself back, but it was not enough. Just as Uraume raised their head, Sukuna would let out a roar in frustration, sending any creature taking over in the woods into the blistering sky or buried underneath the worsening snow. With so much energy released, Uraume raised their hands to shield themselves out of instinct, but no harm would come.
They watched as Sukuna took a heavy breath and steeled himself for the search ahead.
“Find him.”
And with that single order, Sukuna marched forward into the forest, prepared to do whatever it took to drag his son back home. There was no guarantee that the boy would return of his own volition. Worse still, there was no telling what trouble he could get into by running off into a blizzard unprepared. Uraume knew the horrors of the cold. They were born in it, shaped by it. They could navigate through one with ease, but searching for someone blind… They could only hope that Yuji would make use of the flames his father passed down to him. If not as a beacon to aid in their search, then as a simple means to keep warm until then.
“Like father, like son.”
Uraume jumped again. This time, it was Tengen who had strained their racing heart further. She stood on the edge of the engawa, arms dangling on either side with eyes looking far beyond anywhere Uraume could see.
“I will remain here. If the boy wanders back this way, I will send a signal.”
“You do not sense him?”
“I can sense everything and, thus, locate nothing. Not with enough haste for it to be of use.” Tengen closed her eyes, then shook her head. “I will attempt to track him down, however, should you both return in failure.”
“That would be most helpful, Tengen-sama!” Uraume bowed their head in reluctant thanks, giving themselves whiplash as they rushed through formalities to give proper chase. The longer they spent at the estate, the longer it would take to find Yuji.
Notes:
Once again, I had to split a chapter into two because I DID NOT anticipate how far I'd go into characterization. I don't regret any of it, I'm just in awe that it keeps happening. XD
Notes:
-Yuji and Sukuna comparisons are always lovely to make.
-A soft Sukuna and Uraume moment! I love them! I DO! I adore how Uraume is supportive and willing to be close with sukuna, and in turn, Sukuna shows that there is mutual care for one another. If you wish to read as a true Sukume moment, I won't stop you. :3 I love having Uraume's POV for something like this, as we get to see a moment that would entirely be missed if it were a Yuji-centric POV like I'm prone to. Seeing how they interact and push both sides together has been so much fun. They are a real one for finally telling Sukuna to just TALK about his feelings and use that to help figure out all the complex emotions he is experiencing. Too bad, Sukuna hesitated. U.U
-I find Sukuna's own lack of self-awareness both hilarious and, honestly, quite sad. A bit relatable, too. Yuji had brought back a lot of emotions that Sukuna had suppressed for so long, living in denial of them with Uraume, only to be confronted by them in fatherhood. I find stories of parents and their struggles fascinating from the perspective of someone without kids who struggled a lot with one of my own folks. It's another perspective. It doesn't justify their behavior, but it can help understand where it originated and how it perpetuated. There is a lot more I would normally go into here, especially with his relationship to Tengen and how it is influencing his decisions with Yuji, but I'm not ready to get that personal yet. Apologies!
-Fun fact of the day, Sendai is said to be the birthplace of Japanese figure skating. Who knew?
I wanted to include a brief moment of levity between the first half and second half of the chapter, and there was bound to be a subject regarding the future that sukuna would not believe, even if it was for a moments in jest. The earlier moments where Yuji is jumping into Sukuna's arms is akin to a trust fall. It also coincidentally reminds me of a Brooklyn 99 skit where the character Jake runs at another man, Terry, without warning to be caught in his arms. XD
-I will talk about Tengen as a whole! She was a... difficult character to write considering the very little time we have of her. Most of her characterization stems from others talking about her, mainly Kenjaku and Tsukumo from my rereads. Giving her a closer connection to Sukuna just fits the messy family reunion we have going on, but there is nothing in canon beyond Tengen's cursed spirit form resembling Sukuna's for the two to be connected. I am going for a mother-son / mentor-student relationship between them, which muddles the waters quite a bit and explains why Sukuna became so undone by her original message the second time Tengen was mentioned. Something Uraume doesn't put together is that Tengen is known as 'The Star' and thus, Sukuna is her 'Fallen Star.' Uraume was too fixated on the Fallen/Dishonored part. I wanted to present Tengen with that enlightened and calm manner of speech and approach, but with the same intellect and theory crafting as Kenjaku to show that both have been around for quite some time and there is a reason they keep speaking every so often.
-Yuji's stealth mode has been hinted at over the course of the fic. Whether Tengen knew Yuji was there the whole time or not is up to debate, but Sukuna was certainly not paying enough attention. At the moment, we can only guess what part of the conversation set Yuji off, but what isn't up for debate is that Tengen's destruction of the barrier around Sukuna's estate. Between its absence and Sukuna being completely distracted, Yuji took the opportunity and ran with it. Where is he going to go? I doubt he even knows. It is hard to think too far ahead when one is full of *emotions*
-Uraume's concern just... eats me up inside. I love writing them to grow to care for Yuji just as they do their master, and this fic really explains how I imagine their shift in mindset the best out of my other stories. Yuji running off and them believing that he did not just do it on a whim or simply to escape, but because of something else he may have overheard is heartbreaking. Sukuna better find him. Uraume was right about Yuji, the mixed signals Sukuna didn't realize he was giving continued to keep Yuji second-guessing himself. Even when he is confident in one decision, something else comes along to make him uneasy.Ok, so I am running out of characters... Oops.
Can't go into as much detail as I wanted to, oh well!Thank you all for reading! I hope this chapter comes off as coherent, and enjoyable.
Take care and have a good week ahead, ok?
Chapter 11: Twice, Yuji’s Soul Had Been Torn From The Living World
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Uraume crossed through the blistering white veil of winter’s unending breath, leaving them initially blinded mere moments after following their master in pursuit. It would only hinder them for a moment. With their heart still racing and their mind overrun with concern, the initial act of raising their hands to command the sleet and snow to their whim had been a pathetic one.
One breath in. Another out. Once their senses had been reeled in, Uraume whipped up a maelstrom of their own, banishing the blinding frost in a bubble of calm. The phenomenon only extended so far, inhibited by the countless obstacles in their wake. Deciding which route to take through the woods heads was not an easy choice to make. Their master acted as a beacon through the snow, thus following him, which appeared to be the wisest decision, but there was no guarantee that he was heading in the exact direction of his son. Remaining close together would not cover nearly as much ground either.
With what they stood to lose, the risk of being turned around was worth taking.
What direction would Yuji go in? Or, more accurately, what did he know of the world outside this estate after his initial appearance and the two glimpses of settlements elsewhere? Neither the festival grounds nor the fishing village would be ideal. Yuji did not know which way he came from when Uraume stumbled upon the boy. Any landmarks or people he may have met before that encounter were lost to him. The places whose roads he knew may provide shelter, but harbor the boy in secret? No one would betray the King of Curses by doing so. All of this was assuming Yuji had a location in mind to begin with. Emotion was a powerful force capable of clouding one's judgment. The boy could have simply picked a direction and kept going regardless of what he may find, so long as it put further distance between him and the estate.
As Uraume continued their pursuit through the woods, pressure built from the howling wind against the bounds of their technique. Pushing and pulling in every direction that Uraume did not face, it became apparent that their own will over the ice and snow was being usurped from underneath. Almost incomprehensible, it felt as if every aspect of nature had turned on them. They were forced to brace for another gale. Forced to remain in place, no longer gliding atop the snow but sinking within it.
Their mind had not truly stilled, had it?
Refusing to waste their ever-dwindling time and energy in a stalemate, Uraume decided to change tactics. If one could not outmaneuver the storm, then it was time to use the blistering wind to their advantage. A tailwind to increase their own speed, so long as they were careful to avoid being swept entirely away, Uraume could cover more ground. All they had to do was keep themselves from straying too far…
Just then, caught ever so briefly, was the faint whine of a familiar pup.
Uraume was sure of it.
In defiance of all odds out of his favor, another handful of weak barks continued their fight to be heard. They grew loud, then distant, then louder once more, leading Uraume to begin a frantic search to locate their origin. All sense of direction had become twisted and skewed.
“Sato!” Uraume shouted upon the wind, afraid their voice would become lost in the echo. “Little one, where are you? Where has your master gone?”
They were ashamed of how easily frustrated they became. Hands gesturing about with curses threatening to follow, all halted by the appearance of a little snout barreling through a snow drift by Uraume’s feet.
Quick to whisk the half-buried pup out of the snow, Uraume got to work removing the ice matting his fur. The heavy, but steady breathing and wagging tail were all signs of good health. A hasty inspection would confirm this on the surface. As Uraume gave a sigh of relief, they still let positive cursed energy radiate from their palm to ensure all was well. If the act was unneeded, the least it could do was invigorate the little one’s body.
“Where is Yuji-sama?”
Little Sato’s appearance was a double-edged sign. Loyal after being taken in and cared for deeply, the pup would not dare leave his master’s side. Either Yuji was close by, or…
The pup’s ears drooped as his tail slumped to the ground. A low whine came next, leading Uraume to believe that the pair had not separated by choice.
“We need to find him. He is not built for the snow like you and I. Even master Sukuna may succumb to the chills should the Kami responsible for this storm desire to see him fall.”
Not that their master would fall to another…
Uraume leaned against a tree broader than themselves before crouching to avoid most of the wind. The pup was then let down to stand on his own, remaining between Uraume’s feet as they could not carry him indefinitely. Compared to when their master first brought little Sato to the estate, the pup has grown quite a lot since then. It was not easily noticeable with how little effect each day had, but the pup’s filled-out form and muscle density spoke for itself. The young master had cared for him well, whereas many others would have dismissed the tattered thing the little one started as.
“Little Sato… How much did he overhear? What compelled him to be so foolish? If it were any other time of year, I would not think so poorly of this decision. All the snow knows is how to envelop the living— I warned him of that.”
A warm tongue nudged its way between Uraume’s fingers. Soon the pup nuzzled his head right into their palm, to provide comfort where none could be found. The yip he gave eased Uraume’s heart just a tad, but before they could return the favor with a quick scratch behind the ear, little Sato spun around and darted back into the storm. Just as Uraume described it, the building snow enveloped most of the beast, making trouble for his small stature to press forward. Yet he did so anyway.
“You must not stray far—”
The pup barked as loud as he could, hopping into the air before returning to his sudden pursuit.
Was he… did he wish for Uraume to follow?
They say little reason to doubt the pup. His nose was better than theirs, and with his continued bark that would only stop once Uraume followed the path his paw prints carved— Confidence in success rose considerably.
Little Sato moved with the wind just as Uraume had, expertly navigating his surroundings while keeping his nose down and ears standing tall. Small twitches fell in line with shifts in direction. His speed never faltered, trusting in Uraume to keep up.
Their relentless chase only came to a halt when the pup slid to a messy stop. He’d narrowly avoided a jagged cliff denoting where the earth had split in two. A sizable fissure carved by a stream now frozen underfoot, the land below sloped and curved between the sheer walls precariously looming overhead. Little Sato, now with caution, darted about until he found the safest means of sliding down toward the bottom.
Had Yuji-sama fallen below? Was he hurt?
Uraume hoped that was not the case, proceeding with the same caution as the pup to avoid any unneeded complications. While a wisp of cold air would follow their descent, the creek bed and the trees anchored to small pockets of land on either side were far better off than their higher relatives above. The assaulting wind did not nearly reach as far, nor did much of the snow follow beyond what flurries were displaced off the snowbanks to be carried inward.
It was here that Uraume spotted their missing young master.
But they had not found him alone.
Within a hill of protruding rock, the roots of a twisted tree form a small alcove underneath where much of the soil had been eroded. Yuji was seen inside curled up and shivering, one hand barely reaching out to keep the flames of his Furnace lit when there was nothing else to burn. It was not Uraume nor the pup who guided them there who stood before him, drawing out a snarl, forcing him to press his back deeper into his ineffective sanctuary as a cornered animal would.
It was his father.
Sukuna had found him first, standing over his foolish son with vast amounts of fury he could not unleash. Not when it would only worsen things further. It did not appear as if Uraume had been too far behind, but they opted to cling to the cliff face and peer over the stone to observe what came next and step in should the need arise. The aura both father and son exuded, the cursed energy boiling over from their very cores… This matter was not going to be settled by a simple request to return.
“Don’t come closer!” Yuji’s teeth chattered as he shouted, his hand moving toward Sukuna with the audacity to keep him away. Naturally, their master would not listen. Sukuna took a step forward. Then another, only for an invisible blade imbued with what cursed energy the boy could muster, was launched toward his father’s head.
“You— Go away!”
All it took was the mere tilt of Sukuna's neck, and the blade missed its mark, cutting into the tree behind him. Said tree did not fall. It did not shake any more than the wind was capable of making it. A pitiful display of ability.
“You are going to freeze to death if that fire goes out.” Their master shouted, his patience whittled down to almost nothing. “Look at it now! A candle would do you better. You are barely maintaining what you have, you brat.”
“Why do you— Why, after everything, you choose now to… to care!?” Yuji’s hands curled into fists, only for his palms to be thrust upon his forehead in dismay. He could not fathom the words being spoken, though it would take a moment for the meaning of his question to sink in. “I don’t… I don’t understand.”
The comparison between counterparts was still being drawn. Yet, their experiences with one another are out of sync, leading to disarray. There was no separating the two in the boy’s mind, never entirely, leaving him continuously baffled by the actions of their master now. A novelty to find interest in was one thing, but to be claimed so adamantly Sukuna’s son, then to be defended as such— Perhaps it had finally become too much.
“Matters of emotion over a logical mind are fickle. Is it so bizarre to accept that I have become fond of your presence, regardless of the frustration you bring?” Honest expression when answers were unclear created cracks along the surface of assured confidence. Sukuna strained to admit it, but piece by piece, he chipped away at the barrier between them. But then he reached out. Their master sought to grab the boy and pull him out too soon, leading Yuji to flinch at the sight of a hand drawing near.
“Why can you not accept this?” And just like that, progress was lost as their master snapped at the sight of his son’s reluctance. “After all that I have done—”
“—B-Because you—” Yuji swatted the hand aside as he forced himself to stand, legs shaking with one hand levied against the stone to keep himself steady. His voice cracked as he screamed back at their master, eyes leaking distressful tears he could not rid himself of. “—My Sukuna killed me!”
It was as if the whole forest froze over in that single moment. The whistling wind, ever-increasing in pitch and intensity, had ceased. The storm cloud looming overhead no longer shifted in the sky. Additional snow would not dare come near so long as the deafening silence persisted beyond those horrid words.
A long time has passed since their master was truly rendered speechless. No harsh retorts or non-verbal sounds left either mouth that his son had snapped shut. Out of sight, Uraume clasped their own mouth shut to avoid an unwanted gasp, even if they could not prevent it entirely. And as for little Sato, the pup’s ears fell back, sensing just how wrong everything had become.
None of this stopped Yuji from heaving through each breath. As he continued to stand his ground, one open hand was placed over his heart with shaking fingers curled over.
“D-Do you know what dying feels like?” Yuji squeezed his fingers tight, violently crushing the empty space before harshly ripping away. The motion was raw, leaving nothing to the imagination of the method he was implying. “I do. Twice over."
Twice. Twice, Yuji’s soul had been torn from the living world, yet for him to stand now meant that his connection was restored. His heart was within his chest, beating full of life. If he were to perish now, it would be his third. An absurd thought. If there were any doubts regarding how literal his words were to be taken, Uraume did not acknowledge them. The tortured memory in the boy’s face was enough to convince them of how real it all was. No denial could remove the consequences of suffering as he had.
“Ever since… He has done nothing but cause me pain. Hurt people I care about. Destroyed everything w-with…” The boy looked down at his open palms, haunted by yet another echo of his past. It left him recoiling. His feet stumbled over one another while he grasped his arms, head unable to rise. “I should have stayed dead—”
Just as the last word excited Yuji’s mouth, Sukuna marched forward and grabbed his boy’s jaw in an attempt to see the thought perish. He did not do so kindly. Reminiscent of the harvest festival, Sukuna did not hesitate to lift his son high as he brought him close, leaving nothing but his toes skirting across the ground.
“Do not dare say that again.”
“It is true!” Refusal to comply, one demand versus another, as the boy insisted that he was right. It did not matter if he broke down while doing so. “If I h-hadn’t, then he… he would not have… more people w-would not have…”
Yuji’s body dangled below his father’s grip. He did not fight back beyond his words, as his limbs would no longer find the energy to keep up with his effort. Exhausted, his mental fortitude stretched unbearably thin. It would seem that he had once again reached that same limit, which left him spiraling. This time, there had been no drink to numb the pain.
Upon witnessing this, their master took in a deep breath and considered his next act carefully. Previous aggression had been shoved aside, stifled, and buried. Sukuna lowered his son back toward the ground. He did so mindfully, gently assisting him so that he sat on his knees. No correction was made to the boy’s defeated posture, though his hands were coaxed into his lap as Sukuna took advantage of his son’s averted gaze to drape his cloak over Yuji’s shoulders. Its size easily dwarfed the boy, acting more as a blanket than attire, which was certainly their master’s intention.
Sukuna joined his son in the cramped space once satisfied. He sat down on Yuji’s right, their positions the same as the prior exchanges shared between them. While the boy’s fire had burned out during his outburst, his father’s flame would act as a replacement upon Sukuna’s lower left palm. He held it between them. The cold never appeared to be a bother for their master, even in the roughest of storms. This act was for his son’s sake.
“Many times I have brushed with death, both instantaneous bouts of misfortune within combat and the long, teasing nights of my earliest memories that never seemed to end.” Their master spoke, his voice far calmer than before. There was no longer a need to shout, nor project himself in such a way to exude an oppressive aura to tower over others. His own exhaustion was allowed to show itself. Mild and often pushed aside for coherency, but Uraume could still hear it. “You have struggled, clearly, much at my counterpart’s hand. I did not expect him to have shown you kindness, but to go that far…”
What was there to say? Both he and Uraume could easily picture Sukuna’s counterpart acting in such a way. His disdain for his vessel had been obvious by Yuji’s recounts. Making use of him during what times control could be wrestled away to do the very things his morals detested, well, the cruel irony was not shocking. But to kill him? To render his body inert and allow a far worse cold settle in… Anger and disappointment, colored by the pair’s perception of the boy, his place Sukuna had carved into their lives, the claim of kinship— It made the act unforgivable.
“I do not know why I seek to understand you, nor why I want you to understand me in turn. All of this, it is a foreign concept brought about by…” Sukuna bit down on his teeth and shook his head. Unused to lacking the right word or eloquent phrase, he was forced to pause and reconsider every thought. Frustration reigned over their master’s face, but he endured through it. “I have staked my claim, denoting kinship above all else. I chose to value that over what you were made to be. And now I wish to see what comes of that claim. Call it what you will. If that is what attention, what affection is, or as close as I can be to it, then so be it.”
Yuji remained quiet. His lips moved to say something when his head finally lifted, but no words came out. Eyes darted back and forth, his mind still processing the candor in his father’s words. It took him a while. Still overwhelmed, but he did not immediately refute it. His silence was a sign. If not immediate acceptance, then a mild willingness to humor the thought, which was more than enough given what he had gone through.
Their master didn't force a response. Instead, he used the time to ponder, ultimately carrying the burden of continued spoken thought as there was a lot more weighing over the pair.
“You hate my cruelty, my outlook on the world, as it is a reminder of the one that lurks in your era. I cannot change that. The fear that it instills, the power and influence that stems from my actions, it keeps you safe. Without it, this estate would have been under siege a long time ago.” A deep breath in, a look of disgust to follow. “It pains me to admit this, but Tengen was right about one thing: You are not from here. If you had not been found by Uraume and taken in by me, how long would you have lasted? How many would have attempted to kill you simply for sharing the same shade of pink upon your head? Would you have survived their attempts? Left your pursuers alive for the sake of morals only to chase you again? Or would you have killed to protect yourself?”
“I…” Yuji pulled on the edges of his father’s cloak, tightening it to preserve the warmth he had previously lost. Several scenarios may have played through his mind, but realistically, he knew less of the world and what to expect than his father did. As such, he did not possess confidence in providing an answer that was woefully optimistic. “I don’t know. I don’t think—”
“The sorcerers of this era are not paragons of good. They will not honor any agreement or vow you have made. One or two may see you as an opportunity to extort, but upon witnessing the full scope of power you wield, their elders would end you on principle. Another curse to be rid of, lest the world endure a second calamity, regardless of how wrong they are. They would seek it even now, but by remaining here at my side, no attempt would ever reach beyond my borders.”
Previous rumors shared by Kenjaku once again crossed Uraume’s mind. ‘A second monster had been brought into this world in mimicry of the first. A brat so terrible that even Sukuna had to lock him up for the sake of a second calamity ruining what claim he holds over this province.’ How quick they were to judge. To contort and bend what few facts they had, when the truth would reveal the boy to want nothing more than to spare the world another misfortune. Too kind, and in many ways still too naive. Kenjaku was adept with his silver tongue. Should Yuji have gone with him, should he have found him first, navigating the self-serving politics amongst the capital and sorcerers alike would have been child’s play.
But if Yuji had to endure it all alone? With what little ability to communicate upon arriving? The chances of him coming across fortune in a patient and sympathetic ear were astronomically low. Such a game of terrible odds would not be favorable. Uraume had witnessed the boy’s poor luck the day their master had brought him that terrible board game home.
While it may have been a cruel twist of fate for Yuji to come across Sukuna so quickly upon his accidental arrival, from Uraume’s perspective, it was hard to argue against the alternative.
“Yuji,” The sudden use of the boy’s proper name caught both son and servant off guard. Not once since Yuji had revealed his name to him, did Sukuna use it. He had tested it, then discarded it, preferring brat or son as good enough identifiers when speaking. The choice to use it now, to acknowledge it, acknowledge Yuji, was… an unexpected gesture. As was the hand now resting upon the boy’s head. “I would prefer that you live. Not as a cruel punishment or for sadistic pleasure, but because there would be so much potential wasted otherwise.”
Potential wasted. A smile crept up along the edges of Uraume’s lips. What a humorous way to say that his son would be missed.
“I do not truly believe you wish for death. You have had countless means to pursue it already, and even now, you still cling to warmth in the cold.”
There was no denying his father’s words. Perhaps, Yuji would try in spite of that, but no one would know as the pup at Uraume’s feet suddenly burst out of their hiding spot. The little one caused Uraume to risk hissing his name in an attempt to reel him back in. In fear of further interrupting the moment, Uraume darted out of sight with hands clutched over their mouth. A hasty glance over the edge came too quickly, fueled by stubborn investment, just in time to witness little Sato barreling into Yuji’s lap with front paws eager to climb up the boy’s torso. Tongue out and tail wagging, a series of barks kept all eyes centered on the little beast, eager to reunite with his master after holding off for so long.
Uraume, about to express relief, stopped themselves from doing so when Yuji’s shoulders began to spasm. His breathing picked up again as well, signified by the visible break poking out from his lips. Both were consequences of the tears, which had returned in greater force than before. His sobbing echoed against the cliff face, showing no sign of quieting down even when his body gave way and fell against his father’s side, head landing on Sukuna’s thigh. The little pup remained firmly curled up within Yuji’s arm. Normally one to mock or berate the tears and sobs of another, this was yet another rare moment where Sukuna held his tongue. His father’s hand moved from his head to his shoulder, then stiffly rubbed his back in an attempt to comfort. Yuji was permitted to grab hold of his hakama and dampen it with his tears until there were no more to shed, and his throat became hoarse.
That was a good sign, wasn’t it? He may not have replied with words, but Yuji had chosen to move closer to his father. If he had fallen by accident, he did nothing to show revulsion at the contact nor made any attempt to break free. Uraume did not expect an immediate change of tune going forward. The opposing dynamic the young master and his father shared was not going to miraculously flip on its head, but at least something had given way between them.
That was all Uraume could ask for.
“This was not how I had planned to speak on this matter. Your running off has caused a lot of unneeded concern.” Eventually, Sukuna’s irritable demeanor would resurface. He had waited until Yuji had calmed down, breaking the silence only when it seemed that the boy was at an end. “I refuse to hear Tengen comment on any of it.”
“Sorry.” Yuji most likely murmured, as his words were too muffled for Uraume to make out. His father’s response was what filled the gap.
“I did not ask for your apology.”
There was a pause as Sukuna stared at the sky. Uraume’s eyes followed out of instinct, taking note of the endless cloud cover in all visible directions.
“I do not see any sign of the weather improving. And I doubt it would be comfortable sleeping out here come nightfall. May we continue this back at the estate? Uraume could prepare something warm, and you need a few more layers over what you already have on.”
It was… Uraume did not wish to use odd as a means to describe it, as they did not want to imply it to be a bad thing, but hearing their master ask permission from his son was certainly different. They assumed he did not wish to fight after all that, or perhaps he was asking as a means to gauge his son’s willingness to return.
Either way, Sukuna received a weak nod from Yuji. Either an acceptance of what was to come next or agreement with his father’s assessment, one or both, would prompt Yuji to attempt to stand on his own. However, the boy would not be given the chance to, as Sukuna was quick to shift his flame to one of his upper hands, leaving the lower set to lift his son and pup off the ground to be carried without comment. Cheeks that were already flushed from the cold burned an even brighter red, but no objection was made to prevent Sukuna from beginning the trek home. A last-minute sweep was made of the boy’s sanctuary, leaving Sukuna disappointed by the lack of anything that could have been left behind.
“I understand you left in a less-than-ideal fashion, but you could have at least prepared a bag of supplies to take with you in an event like this.” Sukuna flicked the boy’s forehead. There had been no food or water. No clothes. No gear. And certainly, no trinkets to be used or bartered should the need arise.
“I… never thought about it.” Yuji admitted, something Uraume would shake their head at hearing after recalling the lecture he had been given before.
Though, it was an amusing thing to be berating the boy over a poorly thought-out plan to run off. The way Sukuna had brought it up had them assuming it was more out of jest than anything else. A means to fill in the lengthy silence that was sure to follow on the awkward walk to come.
Uraume kept out of the way as their master passed by, using the same slope they had maneuvered down earlier to ascend out of the ravine. Silent acknowledgment of their presence came from a single stray eye making direct contact. The leering nature of his expression kept Uraume silent out of fear that they may ruin the moment should Yuji realize they had been watching. Thus, Uraume trailed a few paces behind their master with steps mirroring his rhythm, the crunching of snow hiding overshadowing their steps. They revitalized their cursed technique to once again bring the immediate area into temporary tranquility for their walk home. Tengen’s presence acted as a wayfinder when the position of the sun could not, preventing the fear of getting lost now that all parties had converged.
Yuji, mainly kept out of view thanks to his father, had let his head dangle backward over the arm responsible for providing support to his back and shoulders. He stared off into the forest for a good while, following nothing in particular as something on his mind appeared to be bothering him. It did not appear that Sukuna was ever going to address it. He only looked at the boy’s change in posture once before returning forward. If Yuji had remained silent, nothing would have come from it.
But the boy did not keep his mouth shut.
What he wanted to know was important enough to risk this delicate air of apparent goodwill, leading him to speak without craning his neck up to look at the one he talked to.
“Why fear?” Yuji’s voice made it sound innocent. He did not hesitate nor stutter, rather, he lamented the reality which made the question appear in the first place. “Why do you have to use it?”
“Fear is at the root of everything. Traditional nobles and those clinging to power they did not earn showcase it well. It is what drives their desire to survive, with reasoning acting as justification for that cowardly instinct. Anything else is a lie, either to you or to themselves.” Sukuna’s pace did not waver as he answered. He did not sound annoyed at the question, merely intrigued. “Fear is what humans respond to the most, as they would easily bow to a threat than oppose it at every turn. It is the most optimal tool.”
“I don't believe that.”
“I know. Your history has afforded you a chance to believe in the alternative, but I have witnessed no such thing.” A heavy sigh could be heard. “You may continue to deny it. I will be here when that thinking leads you into peril.”
Sukuna did not admonish the boy for his thinking. It was not a new revelation. And while he had made his adamance on breaking his beliefs and morals to align with his own, it would seem that he wasn’t going to leave his son to perish should he keep denying them. A true death taught nothing. Anyone else would not be afforded the luxury of his vigilance and the additional chances it brought, but as Tengen had put it, Yuji had become an exception to Sukuna’s philosophy.
“What if I am right? What if there is a different way, less cruel, and it is worth trying?” The way Yuji spoke, lacking in energy but not in hope, almost sounded wistful. “Would you... humor it? If only to prove me wrong?”
“I have humored you before.” This was true. “I will not change my way of life nor the philosophy I have survived on, but if you prove your path it is worth walking… I will consider comparing the two again.”
Now Yuji would curl his upper body forward, shifting in Sukuna’s arms to face him with his head still lazily tilted to the side.
“Is that why you asked that question? About the bandits and village?”
“Originally, no. I find selfless hypocrisy distasteful. Seeing morals crumble when they cannot uphold their promises brings a joy you would find repulsive.” Their master had to readjust his hold, thanks to his son’s squirming. In addition, little Sato was at risk of falling should he tilt the boy too far in any direction, causing their master to growl as he sorted the problem out. “But now, if I am right, then I take solace in affirmation. If I am somehow proven wrong, then something must be gained from it. Regardless, do not expect me to roll over easily.”
Somehow.
Yuji hummed and quietly accepted the explanation. It was when he was halfway through, leaning back a second time, that Yuji caught sight of Uraume behind them. His eyes lit up in surprise, then a feeling of ease, accepting that they were there without any question to be had. Instead of returning to his previous position, Yuji sat up closer to how Sukuna intended to state an observation.
“You are… not as mean as you were before.”
His comment earned yet another jab to the head.
“I am too exhausted to be ‘mean’.” Sukuna scoffed, louder than he may have had to if it wasn’t for the giggle that rose from Uraume’s throat. “Rest will rectify that.”
Ah, yes. Today must have been filled with enough candor to last a lifetime. Enigmatic intentions behind a selfish and callous exterior were to make their return, though Uraume could not say for certain by how much or for how long. His son had a way of drawing more emotion from their master than Sukuna was prepared for. Uraume had felt the boy’s influence firsthand. A bit of change, as strange as it was, may not so bad.
“Mhm.”
A deep yawn followed, indicative of his body’s desire to sleep. It was enough for Yuji’s head to fall against his father and his eyes to close. By the time the group reached the estate, he had passed out entirely with little Sato rising and falling steadily against his chest. Was it some form of trust that had allowed him to sleep so deeply? Uraume did not know if it was presumptuous to assume it. Regardless, there was something to be said about the boy’s willingness to return. A far different story would have ended with their master dragging and combative Yuji home by his ankle if he had not chosen to knock him out instead. For the high level of stress they all endured, the conclusion of it all was relatively peaceful… If not for Tengen still waiting within the main hall upon their return.
The immediate spike of tension was enough to choke on if one wasn’t aware of it. Beginning with Sukuna’s sudden halt within the entrance, he looked upon a seated Tengen with immediate disdain. While most of it was shoved aside to avoid further conflict, the single comment he made while passing through was overwhelmingly bitter.
“I do not care what you do to occupy your time, but there will be nothing else spoken between us today.”
Their master had no desire to hear any remark or apparent concern she may attempt to show. Should they exchange words now, Sukuna would risk disturbing the one in his arms. Too much had happened already, and Yuji had already overheard his father lose his composure once to Tengen. It would not be pleasant should it happen again so soon.
“Tengen-sama,” To further avoid any conflict, Uraume placed themselves between both parties before lowering their head and offering to set Tengen up with a temporary space to stay that night. “If I may escort you to—”
“There is no need.” Tengen raised her hand, quickly shutting Uraume down. “I will take care of arrangements on my own. You are still required elsewhere.”
Once again, their exchange was short. Uraume was grateful for that, as it had only taken a moment of separation to realize that they were not prepared to part from the father-son pair just yet.
With a nod, they first left to gather what they believed to be of use. A change of clothes for Yuji should he wake up and find his current set damp from melted snow alongside a stack of blankets to continue adding as more layers than anyone should ever need. Only then would Uraume follow their master’s path through the shinden; the path to his chambers memorized after numerous trips should have worn their footsteps into the floors of the halls surrounding it. By the time they stood within its threshold, Yuji had already been laid upon his father’s bed, pup curled in his hands. Nothing would be said regarding the continued presence of the beast who had often ignited their master’s envy.
Each breath of Yuji’s could be heard in the silence. Steady. It was a pleasant sound.
He did not appear to be in pain. The frostbite naturally gained from the foolish excursion had not been severe, and the Reverse Curse Technique by his father’s hand could easily do away with the rest. Still, not all worry could be quelled with the wave of a hand.
Once their master took notice of the additional person in the room, Sukuna got up from the boy’s side to receive the pile of clothes and blankets alike from Uraume’s hands. There was a brief exchange regarding what was to happen next, as the northern pavilion was no longer suitable for him to stay in. A second bed could be made here, or cloth partitions and screens could be rearranged to create a new place within the shinden for the boy to claim. There would be less privacy than before, but there had to be some consequence for today’s stunt.
It had taken a few more exchanges for the two to realize they had gotten ahead of themselves. All of this will be addressed in the morning. That conclusion was a natural end to the conversation, but a pang of guilt had hit Uraume with more intensity than expected. The need to address one more thing was a strong one, thus they hastily kneeled before their master in an attempt to show their regret without creating unbearable delay in his rest.
“I offer my sincerest apologies for not being of better use during the search.”
Immediately, Sukuna did not take well to their words. Uraume could sense it, feel it in the way his movements stopped, and his breath gave way to annoyance.
“Nonsense, it was you who alerted me that the brat had run off and you who pointed me in the right direction.” Still… “Tengen’s presence had clouded my senses, distracted my mind, if you had not retreated to check in on him—”
Their master closed his mouth. The absence of speculation filled in their morbid uncertainty. It was best to turn to the present, as regret only weighed the mind down. Uraume truly understood the feeling they should seek to discard, but after today… Perhaps not enough time had passed for their racing heart to seek respite.
Suddenly, a gentle weight covered Uraume’s head. The large, calloused palm they knew too well took a moment to caress their hair. It remained as long as their master spoke, leaving after Sukuna’s sentiments were made clear.
“As always, you prove yourself invaluable to me.”
“It is my honor.” Uraume kept their head low as they stood in an attempt to keep their beaming face hidden. “If you will excuse me, there are a few things I must take care of before the day truly comes to a close.”
“Do not bother yourself with them.” Sukuna had ignored their effort to leave. He refused to hear it, too tired to argue it should they insist, thus he gestured for his most loyal to come close. “Lie down and rest. We are all in need of it.”
Uraume did not object, as doing so would accomplish nothing but irritating the one who lay with an arm over his face and another around the head of his son, who may not be so receptive to it come morning. A third would end up behind Uraume’s head after they took their place on their master’s free side. His raised bed was built in greater proportion to accommodate his size. From what Uraume remembered, the craftsman responsible did not want to risk offending him with the possibility of it lacking functionality should it be too small; thus, it served not only their master but the two additional bodies and a pup with a bit of room to spare.
Yuji was on his left.
Uraume was on his right.
And, presumably, all three slept without interruption until dawn encroached upon the estate.
The following morning was an awkward one. All parties were still winding down from heightened emotions, save for Tengen, whom Uraume could not accurately read. Previous confessions and emotional candor were not referenced aloud, nor was talk of Yuji’s disappearance beyond what came after as a direct result.
The boy awoke with a fever. Mild, paired with a light headache and general exhaustion that was to be expected when multiple facets of one’s being were under severe stress. Beyond the occasional sneeze from Yuji’s nose, he claimed to be alright. A bit too dismissive of a possible illness for Uraume’s liking, but that was certainly his father’s influence at play. His constitution may be strong, but an eye would look out should even a hint of his fever worsening were to make itself known.
What he required was something to eat that was kind to his stomach and more rest.
The only obstacle to accomplishing that was the entrance of a fourth person to join the group for the morning meal after everything had been prepared and serving had begun.
“I will admit, I have been anticipating the opportunity to share a meal. Kenjaku's boasting of experiencing Uraume’s cooking has made me curious.” Tengen announced her presence with relatively high expectations. On a different day, Uraume would have accepted her words as a challenge to showcase their skill, but the mention of Kenjaku in front of Yuji had moved their eyes to the boy instead.
Fortunately, it appeared that he looked more confused rather than angered by Tengen’s arrival. He should recognize her voice. It was not as if he hadn’t known she was visiting.
“You can keep anticipating.” Their master, on the other hand, refused to engage with Tengen beyond his response. He was too busy shoveling rice into his mouth, and while his words indicated that Tengen was not to be a part of their meal, Uraume took the time to serve her anyway.
The Immortal One had already sat down next to Yuji. She expected to be offered some hospitality, even if it was the bare minimum. So long as Sukuna did not object to their actions, Uraume would continue going through the motions, seeing it wise to avoid conflict now that the young master was quite literally caught between the two.
“The time has finally come to look upon you with my own eyes, Little Prince.”
Tengen’s words caused Yuji to tilt his head. Still thrown off by something, his embarrassment regarding his own response and the burning gaze of his father over his shoulder left him flustered. After everything that had occurred the day before, their master still detested the idea of the two meeting. Repeating his previous solution to keeping them apart would certainly cause previous tensions to rise and risk ruining what he had gained regarding Yuji. Additionally, continuously refusing Tengen access to Yuji may come across as a response to a fear that Sukuna would staunchly deny, thus enduring the current moment, which allowed him to save face and supervise at the same time.
“Hello…” Yuji scratched the side of his face, pausing once more to think, only for the truth to smack him over the head. “T-Tengen-sama!?”
“Hello.” The Immortal One did not react nearly as animated despite repeating the boy’s greeting. She sat with grace, a warm cup soon in hand as eating brought interruption. “You appear confused.”
“You, uh—I don’t know your face?” The poor choice of wording had the boy wincing in his seat. “You look more… like a person, Tengen-sama.”
A person? Did he mean human? The implication would not go unnoticed, though Tengen did not address it first as something else had been deemed far more important.
“Tengen-sama…” She repeated Yuji’s words with a lax tone of contempt. It was odd to pick up more emotion in Tengen’s voice as the serious air surrounding her was brushed aside. Respect and acknowledgment of her position and her cultivated power as a sorcerer were still at the forefront. Her approach, however, was different. Softer. More energy had gone into her movements, enough to offer small tilts and gestures when applicable. “That is too formal coming from you. Tengen, on its own, works well enough. Or you could take after your father when he was young and call me Ten-Ten.”
“Ten-Ten…?” Wide-eyed disbelief stifled whatever laughter there was to be had at their master’s expense. He did not know if it was safe to turn his head to where his finger pointed and seek corroboration with her claim. Uraume would certainly do so if only by accident, catching the building red on Sukuna’s face. The pouting mouth on his stomach was enough to deduce that there may be some truth after all, but he would refuse to acknowledge it.
"Your mind has begun to fail you in your old age."
"No, I am correct." Tengen’s insistence was more monotone in addressing Sukuna’s jab, only switching to light amusement upon turning to Yuji. The boy’s presence had brought out a subtle but certainly different side of her. "Your father was a very quiet child. My name was one of the few words he spoke for quite a while, and it took longer still for him to change his ways when formality was expected. As you already know, that has not changed."
Was it Yuji’s place to comment on Tengen’s tale? Her little snipe toward Sukuna, who was in the midst of quelling his rage by whatever means necessary. Food was readily available, but his meal was not endless. All the while, Yuji decided it was best to keep towing the fragile line between respect and cheeky as tempting as it was.
“Tengen-sama is more appropriate.”
“How about Ten-sama?”
To that, Yuji would have to concede. Tengen had insisted, and he would respect her wishes.
“T-Ten-sama…” A bead of sweat could be caught rolling down the side of Yuji’s face.
Tengen offered a tame smile in exchange, her posture loosening as she placed her drink down and leaned into her palm. The pose would not last long, as her eyes continued to look the boy over from head to toe. Self-conscious feelings led to Yuji tugging on his sleeves to separate his hooded garment from the rest of the robes Sukuna had demanded he wore. The Immortal One reached out the moment Yuji happened to tuck his chin in just enough for his face to be in reach. Gentler hands cupped the boy’s cheeks compared to the last woman who did the same thing. Ears were tugged, and hair was swept out of the way, with Yuji holding his nervous breath in until she released him… Only after she placed a hand against his warm forehead did Tengen click her tongue in disapproval.
If she was going to say something, the comment was dismissed before it ever left her lips in favor of calling out the one paying close attention to every move she made.
“I have done nothing.” Tengen insisted, teetering on the edge of whining Uraume was certain to be present. “You are more vigilant than a mother hen.”
“I did not give you permission to touch him.” Their master grabbed the hood behind his son’s neck and yanked him back, just enough to add purposeless distance between them. A finger directed Yuji to his food, silently insisting that he finish while there was a room to enjoy it within if the aura radiating off him was anything to go by.
“I do not recall seeking it.” The lack of sneering in favor of an unbothered expression did not make Sukuna anymore receptive to her retort. Tengen’s attention once again shifted back toward Yuji. “I am sure you have a growth spurt ahead of you. A couple more years will have you shaped into a fine man. Although… Never mind. The thought has become lost to me. It must be my old age.”
If Uraume could, they would have made an excuse to leave right then and there, but the pleading eyes blinking at them while Yuji kept his chopsticks far longer in his mouth than necessary to avoid making any sudden movements kept them in place.
“My appearance is unfamiliar to you, but you do know of the version of me who occupies your time to comment on it.” Little time was given for the young master to recover, as Tengen shifted back to the reason for his initial confusion. “For there to be a difference… Am I right to assume that the scheduled merger had failed to occur?”
Yuji gave a slow, regrettable nod.
The failure of the merger would lead to Tengen’s evolution. Her humanity would fade in time, giving way to a stage of existence left to many as a grand topic of speculation and debate. Even she did not know the full scope of the consequences which came from such an event. With how insistent Tengen was in her stance to remain in her current state to protect her life’s work, Uraume had found it almost inconceivable that only a step or two from the last would fail.
“What an interesting future you hail from.” Accepting the news came easy. Tengen did not find the revelation to be something to fear or lament over when it was nothing more than a fact of a time that had yet to or may never pass. Interestingly, Sukuna reacted the same. Perhaps the outcome was inevitable, but for it to occur in tandem with his counterpart’s incarnation was more than just a coincidence. “I apologize that I cannot be of further help in assisting your ability to return to it. The passage of time is something I have spent longer than most experiencing, but to bend and pierce through it is beyond my capabilities.”
“It is not a problem!” Yuji waved his hands to show that her apology was unneeded. He had already come to terms with the news from Kenjaku. There was nothing that could change that. “I had hope, but… not a lot.”
“If you were to divulge the means of travel—”
“It was an accident.”
It was the young master’s turn to snap. He did not do so with aggression, but with a swift answer, hissed out right before he stuffed his face with salted ayu. Building unease appeared to put him on edge with every question and comment the Immortal One made. He had not forgotten her words from the day prior nor her cold, indifferent demeanor. Any shift toward something softer was not necessarily seen as a good thing.
A lot was surely on his mind. It did not appear that now would be an opportune moment to address it. Both Sukuna and Tengen would soon pick up on this, leading to the rest of their meal being spent in the same awkward silence as it started.
At least the young master was able to relax his shoulders a bit once he was finished. While moving around and performing mild labor was antithetical to his required bedrest, the suggestion from his father to gather his things and begin moving them into the shinden was a welcome distraction. Little Sato accompanied him by darting around his legs, barking whenever he swayed a bit too much for comfort. Uraume made a note to set aside a few scraps from the kitchen the next time they cooked as a reward for the pup’s hard work.
There were no explicit rules to follow from Sukuna nor preferences from Yuji to determine how his quarters should be arranged. The northern pavilion was not within the main hall, but a branch from the western pavilion connected by a bridge that turned at a ninety-degree angle before connecting to the building. This created a small courtyard between the entrance to Yuji’s old quarters and the northern entrance to the shinden alongside another smaller pavilion that mirrored his. Essentially, the components that typically made up the central building were split. To say that Yuji had grown accustomed to his privacy was not wrong; thus, arranging it so that he would spend both days and nights directly next to his father’s chambers would not be ideal.
Eventually, it was decided that the most straightforward alteration to the layout was to place the boy’s quarters in an atypical fashion where the shinden and western pavilion connected across a hall from his father’s chambers as a compromise. He now possessed a direct view of the pond he adored so much that he did not before, which was enough to stifle any complaints that may arise.
Tengen did not encroach upon them until the room was completed, and Yuji had managed to gather the last of his papers to be organized once more upon his desk. A curious hand pulled back the newly erected kichō that now made up two inside ‘walls’ of the boy’s quarters. While Sukuna would scoff at her unwanted presence, neither Uraume nor Yuji could forget that he had spent the majority of their time working, sitting on the veranda outside to observe it all. His back may be turned to them, but just as their master had done many times over, his ears were open, and at least one eye could peer inside with the slightest movement.
“The biwa appears well made, and you have enough characters written to form a novel.” Once again, Tengen brought up what little she knew about him, prompted by the drawings in Yuji’s hands. “I was told you enjoy the arts. You draw faces from the era you came from.”
“They are… not that good.” Yuji was quite modest with his answer. It looked as though he was about to shuffle them away, but Tengen was persistent.
“A subjective notion.” The Immortal One invited herself in, taking a seat by Yuji’s desk directly across from where he stood. It appeared to be an invitation for him to join her. One Yuji would not refuse, even after an audacious request was made of him the moment he sat down. “Would it be too much to ask you to draw the Tengen you remember?”
It would seem that morning’s subject had remained at the forefront of her mind.
With his brushes and ink blocks within arm's reach, there was little problem fulfilling Tengen’s wish. A few test strokes were made until his hand settled, and his confidence rose high enough to begin something he would not immediately scrap after the tiniest mistake. That did not mean he brought the face in his mind to paper in one go, rather, by the third attempt he was pleased enough to accept what now lay between them.
Uraume was a bit taken aback by the inhuman elements they should have anticipated. The merger had failed; thus, Tengen would continue to age, and her body would morph with every passing year as the spirit transcended. Yet, to see her depicted with a rectangular face, a bit rounded on top, and with four symmetrical eyes larger than any normal human would possess was still uncanny. Her counterpart’s nose appeared flat, with a wide frown underneath it. Little was there of the pristine expectations of divinity to be found in her evolved state. How strange it was, yet Tengen refrained from commenting, leaving Yuji to clear his throat and fill in the empty air.
“I, we met once. My friends, everyone needed your help to break a seal. And give some answers.” Yuji’s explanation felt purposefully vague, whereas Uraume expected the opposite from him. Earlier excitement to meet with Tengen had faded entirely, and it wasn’t simply the product of a sudden bashful nature taking root.
His prior faith had faltered.
“I don’t know why the merger failed. It was a… How many— Ten years ago? A little more? For me. Not here and now.”
“Do you happen to know the Six Eyes bearer of your era?”
“Yes. He is my sensei.”
“If you are curious and my counterpart is not available, you could ask him if the opportunity ever arises, how slim it may be. The Six Eyes are intrinsically tied to myself and the vessels born at the time of the merger. He would know.” Tengen spoke as if there was still a chance that his return to his era was possible. She had done that before when she had urged Sukuna to give up his claim over the boy. Whether this was an attempt to win him over by reigniting false hope or a product of her belief that the possibility truly was out there was unknown. Either way, it was a comment that would not sit well with Sukuna, though what would come next would be far worse for a very different reason. “Thank you for indulging me. I will offer something in exchange.”
Without warning, Tengen reached for a brush of her own while another hand patiently awaited for Yuji to offer her a piece of paper to go along with it. She had decided to draw something of her own, beginning with a couple of curved lines, curt strokes, and four dots to finish off what appeared to be the chubby, upset face of a child with four eyes instead of two. The initial drawing was small and tucked within the corner of her page, with proportions exaggerated to look more… adorable?
“Your father had a round face when he was little. Puffing up his cheeks when upset did him no favors.” After finding satisfaction in the face she had made, Tengen moved to the empty space that remained to depict more than just a face and its expression. An odd pose was attempted, as were a couple more that were to act as guides for the details that came after. Uraume wondered if they were meant to resemble a spider or a crab more than a person while in this early state, and unfortunately, they would not see them finished.
“Either he remained still and observant, or his energy got the better of him. He often refused to appear descent when skittering about. There was a time, once the ground was littered with the blossoms of fruit-bearing trees, when he—” Suddenly, the brush within Tengen’s hand snapped in two. Ink flicked about from the bristles while half of the implement flew off to land who-knew-where. The cut was questionably clean. Even without the familiar cursed energy lingering about, the break would have been suspect.
“It would seem that my drawing implement has broken.” Tengen's dry reaction was almost comedic in of itself, as the lack of facial expression paired well with it. But the context of it all…
“A cheap thing.” That was their master’s excuse for cutting Tengen’s story short. Uraume felt the grinding of his teeth, causing their body recoil. He had spoken with arms crossed and eyes shut, presumably to appear as if he had nothing to do with the very obvious stunt.
His comment prompted Tengen to place what remained of her brush down, disappointed, before turning around in her seat to face him directly.
“You, King of Curses, give your son cheap things?”
And just like that, the tension between the two could not contain itself any longer.
Bickering was the kindest way to describe it. Their master made it abundantly clear that he did not care for Tengen’s continued interest in Yuji. Her sudden turnaround upon meeting him made his suspicions worse, which was countered by her insistence that nothing about her demeanor had changed. She saw nothing wrong with her actions, and when he accused her of sticking her nose in places it did not belong, she would counter that he was no better.
The only thing to be grateful for was that Yuji was not literally between them this time. Uraume could only assume his discomfort with once again being at the center of a debate that was bound to go in circles if left to run its course. Prior memories of suffocating under the pressure the two created prompted Uraume to sneak over to his side, about to suggest some distance be gained— with supervision this time —before their argument could devolve any further.
However, just as Uraume leaned down to whisper in the young master’s ear, Yuji did not appear remotely bothered by what was transpiring before him. His attention had not left the remains of Tengen’s drawing. Initially, Uraume had wondered if it was the childish shock of realizing that every adult was once a child that had grown over many years. Perhaps not always in mind, but certainly in body.
“Four eyes…”
The boy’s musings as he lifted the picture he drew of Tengen’s counterpart would refute their previous assumption. He had found the shared trait between them odd. The shake of his head meant that he had dismissed something, but lingering eyes kept him from pulling away from the drawings completely.
“Uraume-san,” Yuji turned toward the servant standing him, a bit troubled, with his voice lowered in fear of being heard should his next question be foolish. “Is Tengen my grandmother?”
“I— Hm.”
Uraume brought their hand to their lips, initial confidence in providing clarity wholly lost on them, as they were not at liberty to answer with absolute certainty. Yet, after turning back into the ongoing argument…
“That would explain a lot if true.” And spawn many more inquiries regarding the increasingly complex history Sukuna and Tengen shared, none of which Uraume would dare ask, especially not at a time like this.
Notes:
This took forever. Many apologies, I had been stricken with the plague for a couple weeks and ended up working on something smaller while the brain recovered its function. Then this update had to go and be longer than intended again. *Sigh* In all seriousness, I am so glad to have updated this. :3
Notes:
-The beginning of this chapter was... A lot. I have these hyper-cinematic versions of the scenes in my head, and I do try to translate that as much as I can to preserve the drama or levity of the scene. Uraume's frantic search allowed me to play with the environment more + adding in more Little Sato moments where there was never planned to be any. I am not immune to the puppy.
-A lot of my notes in these chapters are me just going, "Man... that was... yeah." And I apologize. Writing Sukuna's scene with Yuji was something I had to go over many times, and I am not 100% certain I like how it turned out, as I continue my insistence on preserving much of Sukuna's canon personality while offering these moments of honesty and connection with someone canon Sukuna would never allow. Discussions of morality and life philosophy between him and Yuji are always a treat, as I find it boring to have one just roll over and accept the other. Having them agree to 'enlighten' the other while accepting as much as they can as they are now is my usual way to handle it. Sukuna also does most of the talking, which ended up working out in my mind, as Yuji's initial response didn't need words that I would have otherwise found redundant. I think his actions and odd acceptance that this is real and his life now works.
-Sukuna berating Yuji over his 'poor attempt of running away' has some deeper implications. Perhaps he ran away himself as a child, or something more complicated, but it was certainly a remark from experience.
-Uraume number one. Ending the first half with all three +little Sato passed out together was peak found family to me. Moving Yuji into the shinden after this, sharing the same building as his father, feels like he's truly part of the family unit if that makes sense. Traditionally, the shinden is the house owner's place to rest, but Sukuna doesn't do everything traditionally. Plus I messed around with the estate layout and fixed a directional mistake last chapter, so it's whatever! (I'm always crying when going over tiny details.)
-Somewhat related, but if you seem minor word count fluctuations, it is usually because I'm editing a chapter or altering a character's dialogue to match them a bit more. One example is that Sukuna, Uraume, and Tengen speak with little to no contractions whereas Yuji, Kenjaku, and Yorozu do. To me, it further differentiates their voices in my head.
-Kichō are layered silken partitions that act as movable privacy walls in noble estates. They served a role in granting the ladies of the estate privacy, further preventing Yuji from beating the princess allegations.
-Tengen. Tengen. Tengen. The latter half of the chapter was meant to be a bit more light-hearted than the previous. I considered ending the chapter once Yuji was brought back home, but I really wanted to get to the second scene, as I plan to do one more Tengen scene before we truly delve into the final arc of this story. Tengen is truly a grandmother here. Embarrassing Sukuna with stories about his childhood, treating Yuji with more kindness, as if she's unconsciously favoring him. Yuji's reactions to the back and forth between Sukuna and Tengen were my favorite part. We already had Uraume stressing out last chapter, but now Yuji is internally screaming alongside them.
-Tengen drawing alongside Yuji was suggested by dear friend Mia as a way to tie to one of Yuji's main hobbies in this fic. <3
-Side note, I played around with Tengen calling Sukuna by an old name they had given him while he was under her care, but I could not settle on ANYTHING. I felt weird trying to name him, as Sukuna is... SUKUNA! But one of the ideas I had was 'Shimaru' [Shi meaning Four + Maru being the suffix of choice because one of Sukuna's names for Yuji ended with the same one. -Maru also denotes affection] I couldn't go through with it, but I wanted to share it here regardless!That should be everything! Yahoo!
Thank you so much for enduring the wait. I cannot say when the next chapter will be out, but I have a document prepared and an outline to finish before making the attempt. My recovery is going well, but work expectations have been raised through the roof. We love adulthood in this house. T^THave a great rest of the week, everyone! <3
Chapter 12: He Possesses An Acute Awareness Of Self
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“What are you failing to accomplish?”
“Failing? I should scold you for the presumption. It is not too late to determine success or failure.” Tengen had long since left her place at Yuji’s desk, deciding it best to remove what little distance there was to join Sukuna on the engawa. With arms crossed underneath her sleeves without tension, the lack of respect for their master came in the form of her standing over him, continuously talking down to him, even if her height could not accomplish the task entirely. “You disliked my previous approach to the subject. Thus, I have since corrected my behavior.”
Initially, their master remained where he was. He refused to accept Tengen’s explanation, reiterating his distaste in her visit. Each exchange further drove Sukuna to react with more aggression than the first. If a raise in volume did not show it, then it was the minor shifts in his posture that indicated his internal struggle to keep everything under his skin.
“You have done no such thing. Just as you came here, your presence remains obtrusive.”
It was unfortunate that every word Tengen spoke, intentional or not, pierced that very boundary holding everything together.
“I am taking a more thorough interest in the one you deem your son. He elicits a strong and uncanny reaction from you.” She was not wrong. Time and time again, Yuji, either by himself or as the subject of conversation, had brought about many new expressions and revelations that Uraume had not witnessed in the previous years by his side. Their master knew that denying it was pointless, but that did not mean he would grant Tengen the satisfaction of being right by confirming it.
“This is a ruse, then.”
“A ruse implies falsehood, of which I have not engaged in.”
Their argument of circles continued. Every comment had its counter, a product of stubborn wit and a refusal to admit however many allusions that often laced their words. One would think it to be entertaining. Kenjaku often provoked their master in the same manner, but never could the conniving sorcerer truly topple Sukuna off his metaphorical throne. Those two… It was not right to speak of them as equals, as Uraume held no respect or care for the one who found his own perverted means to follow Tengen through the years. Yet, even they could reluctantly acknowledge the power and knowledge Kenjaku held. Those traits afforded Kenjaku the right to speak to their master at all. Casually, no less. Pokes and jabs, while annoying, were as much as an amusement to their master. Kenjaku offered just enough to keep Sukuna’s mind ever turning. He was tolerated to a point.
Tengen could not set a single foot within the property before their master’s demeanor fell, and his desire for her to leave was at maximum. Tengen set every hair straight, every muscle taut. Tengen’s presence was a hostile one, whether Sukuna would admit it to another or not. Uraume could not find entertainment in that.
As for her effect on his son…
Uraume shifted their attention to Yuji, still seated at his desk, Tengen’s drawing still in hand. He had made no attempt to clean up the mess that was still present. No effort had been made to hide the growing sickness on his face. The light sway of his head and the mild daze in his eyes, either from tuning them out or failing to focus as a consequence of his mild fever, were enough for Uraume to lean down once again and whisper their concern.
“Yuji-sama, are you alright?” Their hand gently pressed his forehead, causing them to frown at the increase in heat and the immediate relief the boy felt from the cold of their touch.
“My head hurts.” Yuji brought his hands to his ears, a bit embarrassed for doing so. “So loud.”
“I agree. Go rest, and I will attempt to… corral their conversation elsewhere.” Uraume did not know how they would accomplish such a task. Spontaneity would have to figure something out once they left the young master’s side.
“You don’t have to—”
“Go lay down.” That was not an order, but the energy behind their insistence gave the impression of one. Any resistance he would have had fell apart. His retreat was a well-earned one, as it was by his hand and theirs that his quarters were built. The two making a scene outside of it were of no help and earned nothing.
Only after Yuji had left his desk and tip-toed toward his bed did Uraume act. It was for the best that he was not present, as this squabbling reflected poorly on both parties involved. Little Sato attempted to follow them, but Uraume placed their foot in front of the pup to keep him inside. His place was with Yuji. His signal was needed should the boy require attention, and it would seem that the pup understood this relatively quickly. One step out on the veranda was all Uraume needed to effectively place themselves within the line of fire. A calamitous storm versus an unyielding mountain. Neither Sukuna, with his eyes, nor Tengen, with her senses, would acknowledge their presence.
How to go about quelling such opposing forces?
Uraume felt the beginnings of their own aching mind, choosing to endure it for now as it paled in comparison to what had to be done. The first order of business was the task of gaining their attention. Demanding it by shouting incessantly as they did would undoubtedly add to the problem rather than distract from it. Something more… indirect would be better. Thus, Uraume turned their back to their master and their unwelcome guest, took one more look toward the young master for strength, and slammed the shoji screens that outlined the outer walls of his quarters abruptly shut. The sharp clack of their wooden frames echoed throughout the estate. A silent apology was offered to the young master for the noise they made, but it was highly effective in garnering attention.
The ongoing argument had ceased from the intrusion. Both turned to Uraume before they had a chance to face them once more. Sukuna greeted their uncharacteristic behavior with a fair bit of annoyance, whereas Tengen looked on with mild interest. Their master was about to demand an explanation, but it would be Uraume who spoke first, cutting him off before he even had a chance to take another breath.
“Yuji-sama is unwell and requires rest.” Uraume bowed their head, hesitation lost to the wind. “I humbly request your understanding on his behalf.”
It was not a request.
To further enforce that, Little Sato’s bark had pierced the screen, bold now that he could not see those who intimidated him. The fading sound of the pup’s pattering steps indicated his return to the young master, leaving the speechless pair a moment to contemplate and ultimately accept the request for solitude. Both Tengen and Sukuna appeared to pout in their own way. Refrained with eyes leering at each other, all that was left was for an exaggerated sign or a tut of the lips that never came. That would be too unbecoming.
“He has an animal companion.” Tengen kept her comment low. That information was not new, but it must have been notable enough to warrant pointing out that after said animal held a right, they currently did not.
“And?” Sukuna clenched his teeth again to keep his own volume in check.
“You were never one for tolerating animals close by. Wolves specifically." Always speaking from memory, never present, Tengen’s reasoning for their interest caused their master to shrug. Uraume would be lying if that new piece of knowledge did not perk their interest.
"The brat grew attached to it.” Attached to the pup, their master had gifted of his own volition. Sukuna did not answer the underlying question. The contradiction to what Tengen knew and who Sukuna asserted himself to be fell in line with the apparent lack of communication. Not once in Uraume’s time with their master did Sukuna seek her out or vice-versa. Only they knew how long the last exchange of words took place before then. “As long as it behaves, it is the least offending presence here.”
Their master attempted to end the conversation at that. Sukuna followed the veranda which circled most exterior walls, his turned back an indication that he no longer cared to humor Tengen’s presence. Yet, Tengen remained persistent. Previous sympathy from last night was no longer present when she herself had no particular destination to aim for so long as she conceded to the young master’s wishes while attempting to fulfill the goal of her visit.
Despite engaging in the same behavior, Uraume refused to group themselves up with her. They followed because they had not been given a task to complete, which would have resulted in their dismissal. If it was not one master, it was another, and Uraume would be remiss if they were to leave now when their presence may be called for. At least they remained silent. They walked several paces behind, granting room to comfortably breathe, where Tenge refused.
Tengen did not wish for the air to remain silent. As persistent as Kenjaku— A trait Uraume had begun to associate with those whose ages eclipse those around them —she took a different approach to engagement by stating thoughts no one had asked for.
“He is a sweet boy. Respectful.” Tengen began, eyes glancing upward, assessing the state of the western pavilion and the long corridor that protruded from it with mild judgment with each step. Empty rooms that were once filled with various household staff or those tasked with minor delegations from the previous lord who had built and maintained the estate. The long corridor that contained them would eventually lead south, past the western gate. “From what I have heard, my initial impression was different. Biased parties were certainly to blame.”
Initially, Sukuna chose to answer with silence. His ear would not be granted, and a stance of indifference to her words enforced that.
“I can sense his cursed energy, full of depth like your own. The chaotic nature of it has well-defined edges. He possesses an acute awareness of self… I suspect I know why that is, so there is no further need to retrace unwelcome experiences.”
And just like that, Tengen had ensnared their master’s attention and earned herself a reaction teetering on fervent once more. Sukuna slowed to a stop with a glare cast over his shoulder.
“You grant that courtesy to him, but not to me?”
“He is young, his wounds appear fresh. You have always claimed to be immune to such things.” Tengen’s words were sharp, but her tone… She spoke of indifferent fact. Most knew better than to bring up anything that may paint their master in a foolish light or wear away at his mood. Fear of retaliation kept most at bay, but when one believes themselves immune, Why would that hold them back? However, the reasoning for her consistent disrespect was an unexpected one. “You rebuked Kenjaku for appearing without an offering for the boy. I had not been told enough about him to bring materialistic gifts. Stories of your youth were meant to be an adequate substitute, and they are as much my experiences as they are yours.”
An offering. A gift. No one had requested one, and Uraume was confident in assuming that their master did not expect her to bring one as well. The slight widening of his lower eyes, the immediate flicker away from Tengen, had practically confirmed it.
Was that truly Tengen’s only intention? What did she stand to gain? Taking such detail to heart to be mindful about it now certainly wasn’t to curry favor with Sukuna. It made more sense to view her ‘offering’ as a means to win Yuji over, perhaps to get the boy to once again see her as someone to trust. Someone to listen to and heed her words of caution regarding his place within a time not his own. Yuji’s penchant for heroics and his empathetic nature weren’t challenging to learn. Should his morals be leveraged against him, then he may be inclined to bow in her direction.
But, would that be enough to turn Sukuna’s desires?
“You know not what a filter is from decades of silence.”
Their master’s step resumed.
“Perhaps you are right.” The Immortal One turned away in self-reflection.
Taken aback by her admission, a faint stutter would come about in Sukuna’s movements. An unwanted acknowledgment of what he heard. Not that it would matter. It was no excuse.
The desire for distance drove Sukuna to push further south until his destination was in view. The tsuridono, an open-air pavilion situated on the opposing end of the estate from the main building which normally received little use in the winter. It overlooked the pond and the gardens beyond it, hosting the most favorable view of the vibrant features hidden buried beneath the snow until spring. Uraume found their master meditating within this secluded place as of late, given that the shinden and its immediate surroundings now hosted disruption more often than not.
All nonverbal indicators pointing to their master’s wish for solitude continued to go ignored. Tengen stood within the entrance to the tsuridono, granting Sukuna the ability to choose just how far he wished for them to be apart before conceding to yet another exchange. There must be something specific on her mind to continue this unwelcome game.
“Are you not increasing his ‘dreadful’ footprint by inquiring about his future?” Their master sneered as he settled several paces away. He remained standing, his lower set of hands resting on his hips while at least one of his other hands kept itself busy, whether it be through flicking his nails or rubbing the back of his neck. With all the snow, very few of the garden’s features stood out within the blanket of white. Even Uraume had a hard time discerning the pond’s edge or whether any bump was from a bush or a shift in elevation. Woefully boring, Sukuna’s eyes would not part from it.
“Unlike others, I have no interest in acting for or against it. It is a piece of knowledge. A curiosity and nothing more.” Tengen insisted. “If a future merger were to succeed or fail… It is a matter of time for my extended life to see an end. I make the most of what my unique situation can afford me, but eventually, fate will falter. Change is inevitable. Accepting that is paramount.”
Accepting that was difficult to believe. Then again, the failed merger of the young master’s time would be centuries to a millennium from now. Did Tengen view it as a distant thing that was not worth the concern? Or did time flow differently for her, and the years would bend and blur until the reality of such grave news rang true? The indifference in Tengen’s voice… Perhaps it was unsettling, and that was what made Uraume question it so much.
“You previously spoke of your responsibilities, yet now you disregard them so easily.”
“I act within what I can control, and accept what I cannot. There is no use lamenting over what is out of one’s reach. Rumination is a bane which anchors one to the past.”
Their master moved to comment, his body jerking back, only to stop and release a hiss from the mouth on his stomach. Whatever topic they were encroaching on, drenched in their history, he did not wish to wade through it.
“What do you want?” Not one to give up, the lack of tolerance forced their master’s hand. He engaged with Tengen directly, demanding an answer after getting bored of circling one another in preparation to strike when neither appeared willing to follow through.
“I still wish to speak to him, the vessel shaped from your image now claimed as your son, regarding his position here.” The return of the word ‘vessel’ falling from Tengen’s lips brought Sukuna’s jagged teeth to present themselves. Uraume knew the way their master’s muscles tensed all too well. Did Tengen? “A brief exchange without interruption. Permit that, and I will depart immediately after.”
In contrast to previous exchanges, their master took a moment to consider her request.
On the surface, it appeared to be the simplest means of getting her to leave. That said, Sukuna had been vehemently against the two meeting. He hardly tolerated Tengen speaking with Yuji now. To ask for a conversation without interruption would offer her free reign to run her mouth in directions their master could not control. It was not the ideal option, but if it was between that and brute force…
Sukuna released a deep sigh, layered twice over.
“This will take place as soon as he is awake and willing.” The chance of rejection was slim. Despite that, Sukuna would not force any further interactions between Tengen and his son, whom he already did not care for. “Uraume will be a witness.”
A witness?
“I will offer space until then.” Tengen did not object nor barter. The parameters offered were suitable, his request not the egregious demand he could easily force, which made Uraume curious. No bow was offered before departing. The Immortal One believed herself above waiting for a dismissal, just as she refused to wait for a summons that would never come.
Their master refrained from commenting on this. He did not vie for the last word, choosing to indulge in her absence above all else. Eventually, however, he would turn and gesture for Uraume to approach and join him on his right. The quizzical look on their face was acknowledged, and clarity was granted.
“If I am present, I will interrupt.” That was… highly likely, given recent events. Uraume wished to counter with an assertion that they believed otherwise, but Tengen’s ability to unravel the binds of self-control was too apparent. Instead, silent empathy was offered from their own experiences with another immortal who set every nerve in their body aflame with a single breath. “I trust that you will prevent any unnecessary topics or purposeful stalling to prolong her stay.”
And report on anything discussed between them.
Uraume understood their assignment well enough. Standing and observing came naturally, should Tengen make any outrageous offers as Kenjaku did when the boy’s father was not present… The need to pinch their nose was strong, but Uraume kept their hand hidden and eyes focused on following whatever landmark kept their master’s gaze occupied.
For the moment of peace to follow, as fleeting as it would be, their master did not seem able to enjoy it. Uraume felt saddened by this. Their master’s behavior continued to deviate from previous expectations set from years of servitude., and in this instance, it was not something Uraume wished to see repeated.
“Yuji-sama has a question. Not explicitly for you, but I thought it would be best to ask this of you now rather than he ask Tengen-sama when they next speak.”
Uraume paused, waiting for any command to cease the discussion should their master wish it. After all, this question was not just one the boy held. Uraume’s own interest in understanding what they had been previously blind to regarding their master was too strong to ignore. They could justify it as something to take into account while seeking to improve their abilities to carry out duties to come. They could soften the intrusion by arguing that they were no gossip and their mouth would remain sealed should Sukuna wish it. But to ask at all when it was not their place…
Their master said nothing.
Uraume turned toward their master, addressing his chest rather than his face. Afforded more leniency than any other, save for the boy he claimed, Uraume did well to remind themselves of the privilege they held. The bond they shared was not to be taken advantage of. Their master had not pried far into their own history, thus Uraume would end their pursuit regardless of what answer came next.
“Is Tengen-sama your… mother? It sounds as if she raised you—”
“She did not raise me, she tolerated me.” Sukuna snapped so swiftly that Uraume had found themselves flinching. A jolt not out of surprise, but out of fear. A sudden, deep wound that had not occurred since their earliest days by Sukuna’s side. Anger that had multiplied by a wave of cursed energy that had been bottled up for too long, yet as immediate as the experience was, all tension in the air fell apart the moment their master caught on to what he had done.
A look of apology graced his face. Uraume caught his lower hand twitch, perhaps in preparation to reach out, but something had kept him from doing so. That did not stop Uraume from accepting the attempt for what it was.
Worn from his earlier exchange, dragged himself through the explanation with no intention of elaborating further.
“My mother became Tengen. Tengen did not become her. Any familial claims are hollow, as Tengen does not see a purpose in them.”
Uraume contemplated what the first part of his answer meant, but did not pry more. A lump in their throat formed above the knot around their heart at what they suspected to have occurred. The conceivable timeline of events falling into place within their mind matched up a bit too well for comfort.
Sukuna and Tengen were indeed related. They did not have to be or acknowledge themselves as family, but there was no way to deny the connection they shared. Whether shame, denial or a lack of care, it mattered not. Two figures whose names resonated to the farthest reaches, and it was not common knowledge to equate the two beyond opposing forces.
Was that not strange? The controversy among the nobility and sorcerers alike over their ties would certainly be something to consider, but did either party truly care about it? Whatever the reason for their estrangement, the knowledge that came of it sparked a new understanding when it came to their master’s effort to publicly claim Yuji as his kin at first opportunity. Originally thought to be a power play made in an effort to both isolate and control the boy, the boasting Sukuna had planned to and eventually engaged in was genuine. Their master asserted their familial ties from an intense desire to do so. No one was permitted to question it, not even themselves. An endearing sentiment.
Tengen’s attitude toward Yuji felt opposed to this reality. Emotive gestures and tone, while still dull in presentation, were afforded a greater chance to appear the moment the two spoke. Her interest in him was multifold, switching between her concern for the grander world and recollections of moments scaled so small in comparison. Their master had asserted it all to be a ruse, yet…
“What is the brat’s condition?” Sukuna’s question brought Uraume out of their thoughts.
“His fever has grown, not by much. Proper sleep and monitoring will determine if there should be further cause for concern. I do not anticipate it worsening.” So long as those around him were civil, the boy’s natural resistance should kick in. Fear of how a sickness from their era may affect someone from another remained in the back of Uraume’s mind, but with how long Yuji has been living with him and what he has gone through, they doubted that his body was frail in the wake of what this world could throw at him. “Is there anything else I can do to be of service at this time?”
“No. You have done more than enough.”
Had they?
Uraume bowed their head and moved to leave, reconsidering as they approached the threshold between the pavilion and the long walk that awaited them. Leaving their master alone did not sit well with them. His mind would churn in unwelcome spirals, and remaining outside during an unpredictable time of year— while not a true risk —was bound to be irritating at the very least.
“This is shameful to ask,” They began with a whisper, their voice growing louder as they tilted their head back with an apologetic smile. “But I would be most grateful for assistance in retrieving a few things out of our stores for when it comes time to make our evening meal. They are out of my reach.”
It was a poor excuse. There were a number of ways Uraume could handle such matters themselves. Sukuna had often berated them before for doing so should something go wrong, and rarely would Uraume ever consider asking their master to lower himself to perform a menial task. But in this case, the underlying reason for their request appeared to be understood, as Sukuna shook his head before moving to follow them.
“Show me where.”
“Certainly.” It was a welcome distraction. There was bound to be something decent to swipe from the kitchen as well, and this time, Uraume would not scold their master for doing so… So long as it is not something that would be better off cooked, boiled, or steamed…
Permission had been given for Yuji to eat in his room after he had risen so late from his midday nap. Night had already descended by then, leaving him a tad confused over whether he had woken up in the evening or a bit too early for the morning to follow. To everyone’s collective relief, rest really did the boy wonders. Aside from light etching still present within his throat, previous energy had returned in the way of how quickly he consumed everything within his sight. Once satisfied, his father appeared and explained Tengen’s request. Particular wording would give the boy more chances than necessary to remove himself from their conflict. Yuji, however, agreed to fulfill his end of the deal and speak with her. If the Immortal One had arrived a season earlier, this meeting would have been cause for excitement, and Yuji’s decision would have been routed in spite rather than the somber acceptance that he still wished to discuss the looming topic of his time displacement.
That brief summary preceded where Uraume found themselves now.
Tengen was to speak with the young master in the shinden, and thus, that was where she remained until he made his appearance. Candlelight kept the room alive in the dark. Their flames caught in a dance of frenzy when Uraume escorted Yuji inside, directing him to sit where his father often did. He was to face Tengen with an air of authority, whether she would concede to it or not. To further enforce this, Uraume stood over Yuji’s right shoulder, as they often did with Sukuna when guests and petitioners alike demanded entry into this very hall. All that was missing was the pup always nipping at his heels. They did not know where little Sato had gone, but if Yuji was not worried, then they would let the matter be.
Yuji’s position came with the expectation of addressing Tengen first. Discomfort in doing so came in the form of his squirming, leading Uraume to lean down and coax him to begin and, hopefully, swiftly see this topic combed through and buried. Just as he was about to take their encouragement to heart and face forward once more, both Uraume and he jumped at Tengen’s sudden change of location.
The Immortal One had closed the purposeful gap Uraume had seen to curate between them. No longer formally sitting on her knees, she had placed herself at a slight angle with both legs loosely crossed in front of her. Was it easier to bend forward that way? The question only came to mind because of what Tengen did next, further invading the boy’s personal space as she began their talk with yet another request.
“May I touch you again?”
Was her previous stunt that morning not enough? There was something to be said about her request for permission this time, but no one would praise her for decency.
“Uh, I think so?” The young master was far too forgiving. If Uraume hadn’t been forced to hold their tongue… “If you want to risk getting sick.”
“This is no risk.”
Tengen reached for the hands Yuji kept resting on his lap. While she brought both into view, supported by her fingers, it was the boy’s left hand that she held interest in. The missing fingers were obvious. The atrophy of his cursed energy, the cleaving into his very soul, were all the same to her. Yet, that was not what had caught her interest.
“You do not heal this one.”
A considerable amount of time had passed since the injury had occurred. The second finger beside his smallest had long since healed over, but it could still be recovered even now. It would be a far more process than if it had been done months ago. Fear of that very pain wasn’t what kept Yuji’s objections ever present to the point that his father had stopped pestering him over it. Whatever manner of wound it was, there was a greater meaning behind it. As long as it did not interfere with his quality of life, there was nothing else to be said.
“I can’t. Not yet, maybe not ever.” Yuji carefully tugged his hand free until Tengen relented. “It would not be fair since I'm no longer…”
Fair?
Tengen did not push him to continue. Instead, she returned to scrutinizing his face, drawn to it. Greater care could be taken in observing it, as Uraume’s expression of warning was far less impactful than the master they served. Was she enamored by what few traits Yuji shared with his father? Dare Uraume consider that they were looking for something related to Kenjaku in tandem? Or was it something else? What did she see that they did not?
After a lengthy series of hums and murmurs, Tengen finally had something to say.
“You have extremely faint freckles.”
“Hm?”
Freckles? Uraume was just as taken aback as Yuji was. Since when?
“Let us see…” Tengen coaxed Yuji to tilt his head toward the brightest source of light by tapping underneath his chin. Her other hand hovered over him with one finger extended a bit further out while the rest curled loosely behind it as she began her poking and prodding while ignoring the scars inbetween. “Here, here and there.”
Both hands then moved to cup Yuji’s face, ensuring the shift into a deep red hue.
“There is a scatter of them where my thumbs are pressing just below the eyes.” She applied a bit of pressure while rubbing his cheeks with her thumbs. “I expect they are more prominent in the summer.”
“Not by much…”
“I was right.” Pleased by that, Tengen retreated, though she did not move from her newly deemed spot.
It had taken a while for Uraume to catch it, but alongside the brief appearance of said pleasure and displeasure breaking through her otherwise neutral demeanor, Tengen spoke a tad slower to Yuji than she had with others. The immediate inclination toward learning this was to assume she thought less of him, but in reality, it may be a product of greater consideration for his developing language skills. Communication was only worth something if both parties agreed on what was being said.
“When did you begin studying Jujutsu Sorcery?” Again, Tengen asked a question that held no bearing on the reason for their meeting.
“Less than a year ago.”
“Your aptitude is to be expected. Expedited by your intended role, but a restless spirit with a desire to break each barrier in one’s way is required to be where you are.” No surprise could be felt in her words, nor were their further accolades to be had for such a remarkable feat.
More questions regarding the nature of his schooling followed. Specific names or details were not required, as she was more interested in the nature of his studies and the means by which knowledge had been passed down over time. His diverse classes, some more loose and without rigorous testing than others, along with practical lessons in the form of assigned missions, were interesting to listen to. The lack of meditation and overall spiritual guidance had caused Tengen’s brow to furrow, as did the reveal of just how few students there were in attendance. It would be presumptuous to conclude that sorcery had waned or stagnated from the tales of a single boy, but it was something to bear in mind when reflecting on previous exchanges.
As Yuji explained it, the grounds on which his studies had taken place were above Tengen’s current domain. He had lived there since he began his new life as a sorcerer, yet he had only met her once when he and his companions were in dire need. Their master’s counterpart was likely with him during this time. Just like the Sukuna of this era, it would seem that the lack of interest in interacting with Tengen, regardless if she was one of the select few from a time that had long departed, remained consistent. Animosity may have grown in his counterpart’s incarnation. Only Yuji would know for sure, but his continuous surprise by how Sukuna and Tengen spoke to one another left Uraume to believe that it was the first time he had bore witness to it.
“Do you enjoy it?” Tengen’s question held the same weight as the previous one directed toward their master while Uraume had listened, hidden from view. Her interest in their feelings was strange to them, but they would not immediately declare that it was because she cared.
“At first. I think I still do, but sometimes I felt—feel like I shouldn’t. Not after everything…" Yuji squeezed his hands together, still subjected to the guilt of his own making. “I was told... You’re responsible for Jujutsu sorcerers. Is that true?”
Tengen nodded.
“I have always found… a passion for sorcery.” The Immortal Once closed her eyes, gathering old memories into place. “The shape of my passion took many forms over the years, but nothing was more invigorating than sharing the knowledge I have gained with others. Cursed spirits and those born with cursed energy to perceive and combat them precede even I, but the framework to comprehend the relationship we share, the very nature of the energy that flows within us… The basis for jujutsu Sorcery as we know it now, as you know it, stems from the earliest days of my youth. I am not a sole founder, but the loudest and most persistent voice.”
Persistence that lasted centuries.
“Do you ever regret it?”
“I do not deny the maledictions cast in tandem with the blessings bestowed. I have taken solace in dispelling ignorance, even if it would appear that there are those who intend to craft new blindfolds to wear with pride. Their obtuse desire for suffering is a flaw of human nature. I do feel regret. Not for my preaching, but for my inability to convince every ear to listen and understand despite how antithetical that would be.” One could not force enlightenment, regardless of the shape it took. Tengen’s posture straightened itself during the silence that followed, and her eyes continued to remain closed. Her lips pursed in response to something left unspoken. Eventually, a sigh would proceed the apology that came to conclude this moment of reflection. “I apologize, Little Prince, for allowing this conversation to stray so far.”
“Tengen— Ten-sama,—” Yuji corrected himself. “—You don’t have to pretend to see me as something you don’t. It is… easier.”
He would prefer honesty over false pleasantry. Whatever pain that would come from it, should Tengen see him as a vessel over human, a curse over a blessing, he would rather endure it now. Kenjaku’s constant switch between descriptors was detested enough as it was. Tengen’s were no different. None of this understanding would prevent the frost from crawling up Uraume’s arms in objection to any further use of descriptors that no longer mattered.
To this, another sigh fell from Tengen’s lips.
“Truthfully, I am still looking to understand everything that you are.” And once again, a hand would reach out to gesture to the boy’s features. She had no qualms with pressing his nose nor swiping a hand in his hair as she did so. “You appear human, but human is subjective. There are many humans who do not share the same shape, thus outward appearances cannot be relied upon despite the insistence of others. As far as your body itself is concerned, its origin is unnatural, and elements of its design would not be possible otherwise. But you sustain it like any other, injure like any other. The experience of living is a human one.”
Intending to interject, Yuji’s attempt to speak was overridden by Tengen's insistence on finishing the result of her contemplation.
“Your mind is whole and your own to do with it as you wish. You are a vessel, but you are also a boy, a sorcerer, and now Prince by virtue of Sukuna’s claim and the world’s desire to name him King of all they loathe. None of those things are contradictory. They are merely facts that I must contend with when discussing you.”
“Oh.” The nuanced perspective was unexpected, but no less appreciated. With those words, Yuji was able to relax far more than before. His guard would not be let down completely, but even if it did, Uraume was there to make up for it.
“Now, the reason for my visit. I am not certain at which point you were no longer eavesdropping yesterday.” Tengen had been aware of it? “As such, I will reiterate my concern once more—”
“—I heard it. All of it.” Yuji cut her off, recoiling a bit as he did. “I know that… Time travel is a mess. There are risks. Danger. How it happened and what happened, that’s how it works. I hope I make some sense. Finding the right words is hard.”
“You speak as if this concept is not unfamiliar to you?”
“There are a lot of stories and shows about it. I never thought time travel was real or possible until this happened. Now, nothing is impossible.”
“It is best to assume that.” Tengen agreed. “Your appearance here, as accidental as it may be and regardless of how certain minds view it, is a disruption. One that continued to persist as a buzz in my ear that will not cease. My concern lies in this disruption cascading into something that cannot be undone. Should the changes you make in history spiral outward… It may not place your existence into immediate jeopardy, but in time, something else may come of it.”
She was appealing to his empathy. Sukuna may not care about the world beyond these walls, but the young master did. He would shed tears for strangers, curse himself should their misfortune be his fault, and atone should the opportunity be granted. Naturally, he would want to minimize any possible harm, as his bleeding heart demanded it. That was just who the boy was. A true detriment to himself, which their master detested.
Uraume felt the tactic to be vile. They knew from experience how quick Yuji was to fight for what was often deemed morally right. It was by some unknown fortune in this instance that Yuji’s reaction to Tengen’s concern was to meet here with mild skepticism.
“You are very vague… Ten-sama.”
“It is because I do not know what shape it will take. Kenjaku finds this whole matter morbidly exciting. If things were different… As it stands, I cannot in good conscience agree with that sentiment.” Tengen rose from the ground, hands tucked back into their sleeves. Was this a means of intimidation? “I have offered this to your father twice now, but I believe the safest option to handle this unique event would be to keep you under observation and refrain from further engagements with the world at large. A Prince of Curses did not exist in history until now, if you were to withdraw from the world, I am sure in time you would be forgotten.”
Their master would not forget.
Nor would Uraume.
What was Tengen to do about them?
“However, I will admit that your integration in our time could have been far worse. You have not spread the world of your origin far and wide nor flooded our era with inventions and cultural landmarks from yours on mass. Some care was taken to minimize your impact already, which is appreciated.” A product of being found so quickly, no doubt. Preference for this era’s way of life, its style, and what role Sukuna had in mind when claiming his son all played a part in it. It was more accurate to say that Yuji relented to their master’s whims while keeping many things hidden away, even now. Uraume would not correct this, as the underlying point was to suggest this behavior remained.
“Are you asking me to go with you? Or… ordering it?” That was the question. “Sukuna— My father would not allow it.”
“I am laying out what options are before you. And as I have already said, regardless of which you choose now, should the future uncover a means for you to return to your era, I strongly suggest that you take it and do not look back. The cracks between our worlds may never fully heal, but placing you where you belong would certainly help.”
Yuji mulled over Tengen’s words. The subject of autonomy was an appreciated gesture, but would it be respected? Not just by Tengen but also by Sukuna, who had stated before that Yuji should only want within reason. To leave him, departing with Tengen no less, would certainly be out of their master’s scope of desirable outcomes.
Still, Uraume wished to know where the boy’s heart lay. Some semblance of middle ground may be found in all this. Or a new round of conflict may reveal itself. Either way, it was best to deal with it now than to allow resentment to simmer once more. Doubt crept in on whether enough had changed between father and son for Yuji to remain simply because he wished so. The uncertainty left Uraume unable to breathe as they waited for his response. And when it came, the cold temperature unconsciously surrounding them made their exhale shamefully visible.
“I won’t lie and say I don’t want to go home. It is just not possible, and it might never happen. I have tried to… accept that.” Yuji took in a breath as he stood up. He looked over his shoulder at Uraume, resolute in his gaze, then confronted Tengen without the previous edge prior behavior held. “Since I am stuck, I… I would— I want to stay here. I can’t come with you. I’m sorry.”
The young master—Yuji wanted to stay.
“If that is what you wish, then so be it.” The Immortal One turned around as if she intended to leave after all their talking.
“It's that easy? Just like that?” Yuji called out to her, with a slight bit of anger in his evident confusion. He had spoken for both of them, as Uraume could not fathom that Tengen had gone through all this, had made the journey all this way, and was willing to leave empty-handed.
“I have no interest in the battle that would follow should I attempt to do anything by force. As of right now, the world is stable enough to warrant a bit of leeway in urgency to the unfortunate set of circumstances.” This could not have been mentioned before? And for Tengen to show no remorse in hiding this fact— “Should it devolve further, there will be no avoiding conflict. If the opposite holds true and your presence settles, then there is no need for further discussion. It is quite simple.”
Just as when Sukuna had threatened to strike her down, Tengen showed no fear of a potential clash between them. Indifference remained intact. Yuji had certainly noticed this, further fueling his curiosity should that very clash come to pass.
“Can you… If you and Sukuna were to fight, could you win?” Could. Not would. Yuji left some level of uncertainty in his question, for which Uraume would not scold him for asking.
“As in a physical confrontation? My victory would be an absurd one. What your father said was true. Immortality does not negate pain, nor does it make one’s body go beyond the limits of cursed energy reinforcement. You are more capable of meeting him blow for blow than I.” Tengen’s brutal honesty caused Yuji’s balance to stumble in disbelief. Uraume could not blame him as the lack of confidence was staggering, given everything else about her. Yet, what came next returned some sense to it all. “In a proper battle of sorcery, I would simply create a barrier and be done with it. He would break out, another one would be made, and the cycle would repeat itself until the remaining stars in the sky plummet to Earth. Many would call that a victory, but I cannot.”
A stalemate. The confidence in her prediction of events did not come from the assertion of victory, but from a stalemate.
Locking oneself in an eternal struggle to spare the world from a calamity would be a selfless act. No doubt praised, with her story repeated for generations to come by those who benefitted from her sacrifice, content to leave her there and claim the problem solved. But Tengen was not a selfless being. She had her own work to attend to and many more years ahead of her that she deemed better spent elsewhere. Ryomen Sukuna, the King of Curses, was only a piece of a much larger history. A phenomenon, to her, that would eventually pass like any other. For those caught in his wake, they were merely a consequence of existing at the same time as he.
Their master’s claim now held meaning.
Tengen was not a paragon of virtue.
Based on the sullen expression on Yuji’s face, he had learned to accept it.
“Should you ever change your mind or feel inclined to visit, my home is open to you. Do send a missive beforehand so that I may send a proper escort and a warning to those who may cross your path. I would hate for a misunderstanding to cause unnecessary trouble.”
Sukuna would certainly have a whole host of objections to this, but it would seem that Yuji appreciated the offer nonetheless. Prior disappointment would not ruin things entirely. His expectations would be reevaluated, and he would hopefully respond to them accordingly.
“I would have to ensure that there was enough food on hand. A proper place to rest and any clothes you may need. I believe there is a student who is your size that I could use for reference…” Tengen made her way outside, her words were to Yuji as if they had already made plans while her mannerisms were directed to the air more than anything else. Was this wishful thinking? The tone shift was jarring. “Until the next time our paths cross, Yuji.”
And with that, Tengen disappeared into the night. It had taken the young master a moment to realize what time of day it was, with a part of him willing to suggest she stay a bit longer only for there to be light to travel under once morning came. But as he ran outside to call out after her with Uraume at his heels, Tengen was already gone.
Uraume tried not to let her disappearance unnerve them, as something else was on their mind, and now there was no obligation to remain silent any longer.
“Twice now, you have been offered to leave, and you reject them both.” They recalled the vehement hatred in the boy’s eyes, his disdain for his host, and the initial desire to escape should an opportunity show itself. A lot had changed since, but that did not mean Uraume wasn’t curious. “Are you really content with that?”
“Kenjaku… It was easy to say no. I hate him. You know that he makes me uncomfortable, and I don’t know what to expect or if I could ever trust him. Before it was… It was easier to stay with a monster you know, you know?”
Uraume did know.
“Now, I don't know as much as I thought, but somehow, that’s a good thing.” Yuji crossed his arms, head lowered as he worked through what more he had to say. “Sukuna, he… I didn’t think I would ever hear those words from him, that he would care, and…”
The boy sniffed once. Then twice. A cough came next from the sudden stress to his lungs, leaving him to unceremoniously cover his mouth while fighting to rub away whatever had escaped from his eyes in a way that wasn’t obvious.
“I don’t hate it. So… I’ll stay if that is alright?”
“If that is alright —” Uraume could not believe what they had heard. The utter audacity he had to ask such a thing brought their forehead into their palms. “If this is truly a matter up for debate, then I have failed somewhere in your language studies.”
“No, it's…”
“If that is alright? If that is alright? After everything—!” All composure and self-restraint that they had fought to maintain throughout this whole evening had finally reached a breaking point. Both of their hands were on the young master’s shoulders. On the verge of throwing a tantrum, which would involve rocking the boy until vertigo dropped him to the ground, Uraume had to remove themselves in order to begin regaining control over their rapidly escalating senses.
“I must go and report the outcome of this discussion to Sukuna-sama. Do not repeat that question where your father can hear it.” As they moved to leave, a faint, genuine chuckle could be heard from behind. Awkward enough to avoid turning into full-on laughter, Uraume did not turn around to see the smile that was on the boy’s face, for they were afraid he would disappear if he thought his reaction to be wrong.
“If that is alright…” Uraume repeated yet again under their breath, shaking their head as they did so. Should their master demand Yuji to remove himself from the estate after everything that had occurred, after all this time, Uraume would assume his mind was compromised, or another had taken his place. “Young master, there is no place better suited for you than here. Can you not see that?”
Notes:
Chapter got broken up yet again. The outcome was worth it, as these scenes require the time and effort they deserve.
Notes:
-Uraume finally reached a breaking point in the most amusing way. They really do care.
-The Tsuridono as explained is an open air pavilion quite a ways from the main building, often creating a U shape around the central courtyard. It is a place for spending warm evenings to catch a breeze or for moon-viewing parties that I actually reference in an older fic.
-So, time for me to rant about comedy. I don't know if you can tell, but I love humor. Specifically, I enjoy it when there is a purposeful layer to it, usually involving the characteristics of someone or relationship between characters as a base. It is a natural consequence rather than an intrusive element designed solely to lighten the mood in a cheap and easy way. General silliness and referential humor are all well and good, but I like taking it further. Tengen and Sukuna's continuous argument hammers in their relationship (lack thereof) while providing information a simple talk wouldn't offer. Tengen forces a lot of Sukuna's history and mannerisms to come to light. Meanwhile, Uraume kicking them out of Yuji's room plays into their straight-man reaction, how fed up they are with them, and Little Sato barking follow after shows his loyalty to Yuji and bond he made with Uraume. Both feel absurd when taking every character into account, But I find a balance on teetering the absurd with what is believably acceptable is what makes it work. And since it is subjective, I can only hope it works from an audiences' perspective.
-A lot of Sukuna's prior mannerisms and reactions have been given more meaning with this chapter. The reveal of how he and Tengen are related (His mother being the current Star Plasma Vessel in use) would naturally cause him to snap over the mere thought of Yuji, his son, being used by Tengen next. Additionally, as Tengen never made any public claims over Sukuna in any regard, Sukuna sought to make it obvious to everyone that Yuji was his kid and he showed no shame it in. There is so much between them that I can't go into every detail. I think I've already mentioned certain mannerisms as well, with this chapter continuing "Tengen ignores personal space and is a hands-on learner" kind of like Sukuna...
-Uraume knows the best way to comfort Sukuna, whether it be through listening or by offering a distraction. T^T
-Tengen once again, is a very complicated character to write. I wanted to balance the potential for her to show care and consideration to Yuji, while also enforcing Sukuna's claim of her apathy. I did not wish to state who is stronger (Sukuna, Tengen, & Kenjaku all have an arsenal of abilities and prowess with the latter two having many more years of experience) as I mostly wanted to provide an explanation for why they don't just fight on sight. The idea that Tengen COULD deal with Sukuna and spare the world from his destruction but chose not to because her interests lie elsewhere was too interesting not to include. It continues to play into what Gege built with the sorcerers not being equated to heroes, just people doing what they can for their own reasons. (Not yuji asking the 'Would you win?" question to Tengen like he did with Gojo)
Also,
Tengen "You're familiar with time-travel?"
Yuji "I have seen SO many movies."
-Yuji has come to accept his place in this time period. It is not perfect, as I will continue to stress, but he went from being familiar with Sukuna's cruelty and how to endure it to accepting that there is more to this Sukuna and the differences are what make him worth understanding. Having him speak it was just the final push to bookend that bit.
-Due to the restricted POV, I will state that during the latter half of the chapter, Little Sate was spending time with Sukuna for the first time on his own while Tengen and Yuji spoke. Tengen mentions Sukuna's dislike for wolves, which I figure could be due to when Sukuna was small and much larger animals weren't afraid to attack him. He endures the pup's presence because Yuji grew so attached. Q.QI am sure that isn't all, but I am content with the notes how they are.
The only reason the chapter count is getting extended is because I don't want to write 20k+ chapters XD
I truly hope to finish this fic by the end of the year, but we shall see. I can't believe we are so close to 100k words. THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A ONE-SHOT GUYS!!!At any rate, I hope you all have a fantastic week ahead.
Take care until next time! <3( I will be answering comments soon, sorry for the delay!)
Chapter 13: Initially, Uraume Had Thought Him To Be A More Reserved Boy
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Tengen’s arrival brought disarray, upheaval, and it was through her departure that much uncertainty and unease had settled in relative peace. It was not a miraculous feat to cease all conflict, but a newfound understanding that tempered more volatile emotions. For the most part. Uraume had left enough room for error, aware that there was much father and son still differed on, down to their cores. Fortunately, such topics can be put down and picked up with relative ease. The winter months often afforded more time for silent solitude and contemplation when so few were willing to travel through an unpredictable cold.
Although, such lengthy solitude had been absent since Yuji appeared.
Or perhaps even further back, when Uraume had started to walk the same path Sukuna carved out to call his own…
Regardless of their ever-present musings, the young master appeared more comfortable. The most obvious change was how he wore his clothes or moved about the estate, but more subtle ways that enveloped where he was expected to sit or when deference to his father should be granted were becoming commonplace. His role as son and Prince may not ever truly feel natural to embrace, but in time, Uraume hoped that he would develop proper acceptance of them. His mood appeared to have a striking hold over their master’s.
Lessons resumed once his illness had wholly passed. His recovery was swift, and the lasting effects were non-existent. A blessing, considering all those whose life ends after tragic failing of one’s body beyond their own accord. As language skills became something to be developed as encountered or by necessity, new subjects were brought to the forefront instead. The process was slow and steady to ensure proper context and understanding was distilled by whatever means necessary. Sculpture, drawing, and bodily movement were supplemented as a result, reminiscent of when their role as teacher had first begun.
Active participation, in contrast, came readily on Yuji’s end. He frequently expressed poor learning skills and slow uptake on matters that weren’t necessarily life or death. This defeatist attitude was by far the most significant obstacle Uraume faced, despite the boy’s insistence that his mathematics was subpar and his memory regarding essential figures, places, or events of this era would take multiple reminders to ingrain each subject adequately.
“I am the below—lowest-scoring student in my class.” A sheepish grin attempted to lighten the fact. It was not for Uraume’s sake but his own.
“Your language skills, your verbal ability, developed rapidly in contrast to how little you practiced.” They countered, choosing to believe that such information meant nothing without knowing the specific tests and the scores of his peers to compare against.
“But… that is cheating? Maybe?” This was in reference to Uraume’s previous hypothesis that it was not only physical characteristics and cursed techniques that had been inherited. The act of speaking, the quick formation of sounds, may very well come from reflex. It was not meant to discredit his achievements.
“By that logic, everyone is cheating in their own way.” Uraume shook their head. “You also had a poor instructor.”
“Gojo-sensei is not—” There was a pause. Then, a hum as he held his chin. “The cursed energy training wasn’t that bad…”
“Then, I rest my case. I will not permit you to be made a fool of when accompanying Sukuna-sama outside the estate. It would reflect poorly on not only you, but your father, and myself as your instructor.”
Immediately, the young master jumped in his seat, and his posture had straightened considerably once settled. The threat of possible consequences of his actions appeared to work.
“I won’t let that happen!” Yuji placed a flattened hand perpendicular to his forehead with vigor. A salute, he had called it. Similar to a bow as a show of respect, but not quite. Only the young master could make that pose appear so endearing.
Uraume’s initial assessment was that Yuji knew more than most peasantry when it came to number-related problems, and the practical use of such knowledge had already shown itself during sparing sessions, which required more than simple instinct. The realm of science would follow in a similar fashion, with the occasional clashing of understanding when Yuji brought up the peculiar concepts he had been taught back home. As far as specific figures of influence and notable locations were concerned, there was something to be said about the young master wishing to learn them at all. Rarely did their master acknowledge another beyond their descriptor unless it had been earned. In some cases, there were specific individuals who seared their presence in his memory against his wishes.
Overall, Yuji was far from a lost cause, and tailored one-on-one instruction appeared to benefit him greatly.
There were times when Yuji would offer names of his own to see if Uraume knew of them. Historical figures from his perspective, though many were a couple of centuries after where he stood now, by an immediate apology and pleaded to disregard the question that came a few moments after. Would it be alright to insist that he elaborate on these important men? To know so much of what may come, should the timeline of major historical events hold true… that knowledge was both worthless and invaluable due to the great lengths of time between. Was it still worth learning? Would the potential value outweigh the potential damage it may cause should the knowledge spread or show signs of disrupting the balance Tengen was so insistent on maintaining?
Should an answer be found to this conundrum, it would be by their master’s hands.
“Do well on our next review, and we shall take a break from these lessons to shift to another.”
“Another?” It was not exactly a complaint, but a mild groan as Yuji’s mind grew tired and attention had waned as a result.
“I want to know how well you have been paying attention when assisting me in the kitchen.” And once again, energy appeared from nothing, and the young master was reinvigorated once more. It took everything in Uraume not to grin, but they could not help it. The light in his face was far too captivating.
Curiosity did not end as each lesson had.
Yuji’s migration to the shinden had impacted his ability to keep to himself. To prevent his personal space from being breached by a certain someone, he wandered about the estate in higher frequency. Paradoxically, his path crossed with his father’s far more often. This sparked a curt conversation each time, starting with either a harmless question or an awkward expression of something inconsequential about himself to nudge Sukuna to do the same.
It had taken a couple of these awkward exchanges for Uraume to realize that they were intentional. His skittish behavior kept that fact from being pointed out in search of his intention in fear that they would cease altogether. Within a handful of days, the boy had spoken more to his father than he had in the time it took for the full moon to slip in and out of the sky’s deepest shadows. If not through these little inquiries, then certainly when the two engaged in their usual sparring.
No longer did Sukuna have to scrutinize Yuji’s actions and offer guidance on what flaws he found. The fight to wrangle the boy and force him to listen was… it was not over entirely, but it occurred far less. Most recently, after being flipped and thrown into a snowbank just before a break was declared, Yuji had crawled out with a question that spurred from nothing. Urgent, nonetheless, the boy chased after his father and worked to keep up as they headed back inside.
“How do you, you know,” Yuji flailed his hands in a couple of odd, stilted positions. What Uraume had initially thought to be some way of garnering attention or a means to brush off additional snow was a visual guide to ensure his question was understood. “The words and hand signs. How do you know what works?”
“Most come as instinct—”
“The longer ones.”
“Incantations.” Sukuna turned toward the boy, granting him more attention that one what secondary eye could. The eager nod he received gestured for him to continue. “The fortunate whose Cursed Techniques have been passed on from one generation to the next, understanding of those very Cursed Techniques pass alongside it. These are treasured secrets of the most prominent sorcerer clans, as they experience this phenomenon most often.”
Secrets that were worth killing over. Much of what is known to outsiders is from rare chances of observation. The technical aspect, mindset, precise movements, and flow of cursed energy were internal components left to assumption. Blood Manipulation, for example, was the treasured technique of the Kamo clan and embodied many subspecialties depending on development and natural talent. Yuji’s usage of it, when he rarely brought it out, presented opportunities to assess further what occurs in each strike. Such knowledge, in theory, was useful for developing countermeasures, but it could never allow their master to use it as his own. In contrast, If a cursed technique was not innate, but acquired through learning and experience, it was only a matter of time before it was his.
The case of an innate technique with no one to offer a guiding hand was far more complicated.
“Shrine, as far as I am aware, had no successor. Thus, trial and error were necessary when nuance and skill must continuously be perfected. To develop incantations, one must wade through muddled waters in search of where one’s cursed energy is drawn. Many common signs and variants can be copied and applied elsewhere, rich in lore but all too easy to counter. Others are more personal and specific. Two mouths and four hands provide a significant advantage and a lot more flexibility.”
Yuji appeared to understand this, as his gaze refused to part until the last sentence reached its conclusion. Determined to pursue this subject further, what would come of his own innovation would surely keep his elders on their toes.
“Can you teach me yours?”
“No.”
Uraume shook their head, silently commending their master for not losing composure as they almost had. The most straightforward path was undoubtedly the most enticing as well, but less would be gained from it. The disappointment the young master felt would not last long once he understood that.
“Why not?”
“Ignoring the obvious lack of hands and mouths to produce the same results as I, being my son does not give you the right to all of my secrets. Discern and memorize what glimpses you receive for now. Maybe when you are older, or when you finally explain that disruption technique you used at the festival, I will be more forthcoming.”
The young master hadn’t used the cursed technique since the festival, choosing to endure attacks made against him through sheer will and physical constitution. It was not an ideal tactic, but he had survived so far on the notion that his father would not kill him outright.
“It is from this era! Maybe it will get invented soon, and you can learn it then?” Innocent, blinking eyes were used as a last-ditch effort to no avail. Not too discouraged by the lack of give, as the boy held no expectation for any, he soon ran off in his own direction, calling out for little Sato to return to him for company.
Father and son shared the same space the following evening. Too cold to sit outside, the pair sought the heat of a fire inside, with an additional furry beast refusing to vacate now that night had settled in. Yuji laid on his back, zabuton under his head. His legs were never in one consistent position, and little Sato nudged himself further into the boy’s side with a warm glow cast over him. Sukuna sat as he always had, some distance away. His outward attention had turned to the few places where the outside shutters had been left open while the rest had been pulled shut when the wind picked up too great a speed. The edges of the estate, their buildings, paths, and noteworthy landmarks had snowdrifts intent on burying them. Little point was found in in wasting resources on pavilions they rarely entered, so long as the stores were accessible, and Uraume had moved their quarters into the shinden by this point in the season.
After seeking answers to new subjects taught and the subjects he shared with others, Yuji’s mind had returned to poking around minor things regarding his father that he had never taken care to learn prior. Small questions, hardly ever intrusive, purposefully chose to avoid skirting around heavier discussions when at all possible. It was something to keep the silence at bay. Animals, colors, seasons, weird rocks to be found, and foods to try, nothing appeared to limit the range of what would be discussed beyond the boy’s imagination and Sukuna’s willingness to respond with more than a single sentence. Should their master grow too short with him— Uraume suspected it was not out of anger —Yuji would turn to them instead to keep words and ideas flowing until something set the tone for the rest of the evening to follow.
Eventually, that question showed itself just as the yawns started trickling in.
“Is there… Do you have a favorite place you went to?” The young master pressed his fingertips together before muttering an additional clause to his question. ”Maybe one that wasn’t destroyed after…”
The clause may have added a challenge. Uraume was not sure. Their master had taken a moment to think, lower arms crossed while another palm acted as a rest for his chin. Due to the delay, Yuji used his toes to nudge himself bit by bit across the floor in the hopes of observing any change of expression on an otherwise unmoving face with eyes that had closed three questions back.
With how long it took for Sukuna to answer, Yuji may have thought he was finally being ignored.
That was further than the truth.
“It is In the heart of the mountains to the south.”
“And?” Dissatisfied with yet another curt response, the boy rolled onto his knees, accidentally tossing little Sato awake as a result. “That place is… what?”
“A secluded cave.”
That clarification was not good enough for Yuji, and Uraume would have to agree. They were becoming quite invested in this little interrogation. Not much had been revealed that they did not know, but talk of a cave they could not recall ever visiting had unintentionally led them to lean a bit further in from their seat.
It was not the pressure of those around him that had pushed their master to continue. No, it was the pouting face that one eye had opened to, which garnered a huff out of Sukuna’s lungs.
“Half-submerged in water, with decadent walls of gemstones and fangs shaped of rock. The light of my flame created a shine like no other, and when paired with the reflection… One would think it to be a great serpent’s den burrowed endlessly into the earth, though I have yet to encounter one.” This location was certainly Uraume had not been to, which increased the likelihood that it was encountered before their time by Sukuna’s side. “The energy of that place flowed with each faint breath of air, shifting in and out, swirling and rolling around every corner. Once I released my technique, there was tranquility to be found in the absolute darkness when meditating within.”
The look on their master’s face, as he turned to the south, was that of longing, as if he had retraced his steps and looked upon such a wondrous place once more. It was no grand city of fortune or mystical shrine to commune with an aspect of the world, but a place seemingly untouched by others. A unique experience few could replicate. For fondness to have developed thereafter, Uraume understood how it came to be.
“It has been a long time since I was last there.”
“I have only read about them…” Yuji muttered to himself, head tilted back as he attempted to relay his thoughts. “That sounds like a… cave.”
“That is what I said.” Close to being cross with his son’s antics, Yuji scrambled together a more coherent and respectful comment.
“No! A… I don’t have the word. A type of cave. The rock…” Hands fumbled about for supplies that were not present. Had he been in his room, he would have already got to work on something to assist him. Instead, he made do with what he could. “When water melts a type of rock, it becomes an acid, and hollows out the cave. Crystals can form from the water carrying things with it. The type of rock creates a type of cave. It… this explanation is awful. I have never seen one, but I can picture it in my mind. Not the same, but I get it.”
Mimicking his father, Yuji crossed his arms, and his legs followed after in frustration that he would ultimately let go. Neither Sukuna nor Uraume could help with the world he wished for. Fortunately, the concept, the creation of the cave itself through water instead of brute force was easy enough to grasp.
“It sounds like it was beautiful.”
“And what about you? What place do you remember fondly?”
“Oh, uh…” Yuji turned away, prepared to crawl back to his original place by the fire. “Mine can’t compare.”
“You, brat, pester me all evening, and I receive nothing in return?” A growl underlaid their master’s words. The boy had gotten too close, making it all too easy to snatch the back of his robes to prevent him from escaping his fate. Yuji whined, crying out in faux pain, before eventually conceding to Sukuna’s demand for compensation.
His father’s tight grip on his kosode would remain.
“There is a small town that I grew up in until I was seven. On the away— outskirts of Sendai, a big city far north that was my home before…” From the talk with Tengen, it was learned that Yuji had moved close to the capital once acquired by the sorcerers. A capital that was further east than the one of their present, considering its proximity to Tengen’s domain. An amusing thought, given how prideful the men of Heian-kyō are. “I was alone a lot. There was a place, not a garden, but similar, where I would catch crayfish. And a few farms further away, covered in this beautiful green, that I didn’t see a lot. Not all at once. Not like here before the snow. I am used to buildings, and… stone isn’t right, but it's close enough. There were horses, too, with the massive heads”
The boy gestured what he approximated the size of the horses’ heads with his hands. It distracted from his earlier comment regarding a town with little greenery. It was not the dirt of cleared ground, but a stone-like material that had taken its place. Had his home been an arid one? Yorozu may know more about the region he described, considering her origin lay in the same land. It may not be the same place as Yuji once knew, but it was something to cling to should he desire it.
“I think… there was an archery range nearby, but I was too small to do it properly. My fingers always slid— slipped when nervous.” Speaking of nervous, Yuji was little more flustered than before. The memories he described kept his energy high. “During the winter festivals, people shaped the snow into all sorts of things. And after my hands would go numb in the snow, my grandfather, he would…”
The rest of his thoughts had faded to an incoherent sentence, meek and unable to continue with clarity as a somber longing of his own overtook him. An attempt to excuse himself was made. With little resistance, he squirmed out of his father’s hold, who had been rather content until now. Sukuna grimaced at the boy’s sudden departure.
“He is making an effort not to show his sorrow.” Uraume attempted to salvage what they could, aware that it was not their place to interject.
“What point is there in hiding it? He never made this effort before.”
“I cannot claim to know his intent.” All they could do was assume. “If I were to guess, it is to allow all of us to pretend otherwise.”
It was a strange act of denial and consideration. To keep his displeasure to himself, while it may also stem from pride, they were long past the point of thinking any less of him for such a weak reason.
“How absurd.”
Initially, Uraume had thought him to be a more reserved boy. He kept to himself and spoke very little, but that was due to a lack of proper words and a willingness to use them. Now, his mouth ran faster than his legs at times. He may stumble over a term or concept he could not immediately convey, linger on a thought, and trail off elsewhere. He may grow frustrated and curse at the words he knew far better, yet rarely did he return to silencing himself entirely.
The young master was someone who found joy where others would never think to look. Simple and genuine, the smallest of moments were the most impactful, leading to more frequent outbursts of grins and laughs. While not ever-present, they were no rarity either. Stark, sporadic, and never unwelcome.
Their master could be caught smiling more often as well. His face may not show it, as it was his stomach that could not commit to falsehood. Said change had made these opposing moments of sorrow more impactful—A consequence of opening one’s heart to another. A dreadful thing to bear, yet their master had already come this far. What would undoing all that work accomplish now?
Unlike the art and writing supplies, Sukuna’s initial gifts to his son had gone a bit forgotten over time. They were still present, as the gambling board game would come out on occasion, while the rest were left to collect dust with his few meager belongings. As for a particular bow that had been tucked out of his reach, the day would come to reunite it with the young master when a clear day would finally reveal itself.
His son’s story of home must have triggered the decision to give Kyudo lessons another try. Recent developments lent well to second chances, which led to Sukuna and Uraume searching for the neglected training ground under the snow and targets to denote in place of the training dummies that could not be recovered. Their success drew the curious eye of his son, who showed mild interest but did not make an effort to voice his confusion until he had to catch a bow being thrown his way.
“You are familiar enough with the concept.” Sukuna had stated once the two were overlooking a clearing west of the estate. No arrows had been distributed just yet, as there was something that needed to be reiterated, with an arrow waved about in Sukuna’s hand before they began. “You will not aim this at me, or I will return the gesture in kind.”
“I will not aim this arrow at your head.” Yuji murmured, all too aware of the last time he had been given a sharp projectile to fiddle with.
“Repeat it.”
“I will not aim this arrow at your head— I won’t!” Offended, the boy jumped up from his seat on the verge of devolving into his fist as a backward means of proving his agreement to the rules his father was putting into place.
Still skeptical, Sukuna proceeded to provide an explanation of what they were to accomplish that afternoon. There would be no talk of trick shots, multi-shots, or fire arrows of any kind, no matter how many times Yuji brought up interest in them. A quick assessment of positioning and foot placement would follow before Yuji was to fire the small quiver’s worth of arrows on his waist for target shooting. The fundamentals were already in place, which hastened the necessary overview.
Each attempt from the closest target to the furthest was met with harsh criticism. The young master would roll his eyes and give an exaggerated slouch, but he continued to follow each correction when it came time to go again. His accuracy could use some work, a feat that would progress naturally with more practice, as he appeared to have less experience with ranged attacks that required more than intent to pull off. What worked in Yuji’s favor was that, like his father, he held more than enough power to use the bow consecutively at its fullest. There was a lot of strain to be had with each full draw that inhuman strength surpassed entirely, and maintaining while adjusting his aim for multiple breaths did little harm. His father would still shun the practice, as he would refuse to allow Yuji to close one eye in an effort to increase accuracy. In an actual battle, it would only hinder his sight when he adjusts to using the bow and other forms of attack.
Yuji overestimated his last shot, sending his arrow past the tree he had aimed toward and deep into the woods behind it. The consequence of his failures was to collect his arrows regardless of where they landed. Yet, he did not lose spirit over it. Before setting off, Yuji brought two fingers to his mouth and whistled. It did not take long to realize that the harsh sound was supposed to be a signal, as he stood around gesturing for his father to hold off on berating his inaction until a certain pup barreled out of the woods with an arrow in his mouth.
For his efforts, little Sato received a hefty amount of praise and neck scratches from the young master. Sukuna’s expression was hard to read, something akin to bafflement, frustration, and a reluctance to admit that he had witnessed something worth getting excited over. It was not as if the outcome of little Sato’s time with Yuji had come out of nowhere. The boy had taken great pleasure in playing retrieval games with the pup. It was only natural that something would come from it.
“What do you think we do all day?” Yuji laughed, his hands still rubbing the pup’s face in a manner that squished the little one’s cheeks.
“Retrieving one arrow out of ten is hardly efficient.” Sukuna’s comment caused Yuji to stick his tongue out, temporality matching the pup’s dopey look, before heading off to salvage what he could by hand.
Like everything else, these new lessons would be a work in progress. At least the boy was a quick learner. Archery lessons were an excuse for their master to engage in the art he had put aside for so long, and it brought some manner of joy between bouts of bickering he fell into with his son.
“When is Yorozu-san…dono- hime?” A nervous chuckle attempted to escape Yuji’s throat, caused by the violent twitch of Sukuna’s eyebrow at the mere suggestion of deferring to Yorozu as a princess. His son quickly understood that he may have stumbled across the wrong honorific, leading him to forgo figuring one out altogether. “When is she coming back?”
Yuji was interested in continuing the biwa lessons Yorozu had promised. With how enthusiastic she had been upon finding the perfect excuse to invade her ‘dear love’s’ home, the lack of any recent appearances was perplexing. Dare Uraume assume that the boy was worried despite knowing little about her or the reckless battles she engaged in. Or, perhaps, he has become impatient to engage in her maddening delusions at his father’s expense. The suggestion has been brought up a few times since, with Yuji arguing that the offense and anger Kenjaku would feel at being swept aside for her as a mother figure would be well worth the trouble.
It would certainly not.
Their master refused to listen to such childish nonsense. It was not as if Yuji was genuinely searching for someone to fill in a void he did not need, yet his insistence on engaging in this ‘humorous’ farce continued to grate on his father’s ears. No less relief could be found in her absence as a result of the boy’s continuous pestering.
“There will not be any lessons until spring.”
“Spring? That long?” Honestly, the boy was disappointed. The biwa had not been a passing fancy, but there was only so much he could do on his own without proper guidance. Still, he plucked away at its strings. He found notes he preferred over others and often used the instrument for dramatic flair when telling a story based on the odd and confusing shows he enjoyed back home.
“That unbearable woman does not travel in the winter. She crawls into that little den she carved for herself among the Fujiwara and plots against my sanity until fairer weather befalls us.” The irony of such a statement was undoubtedly lost, considering how their winter had been spent so far.
Yuji halted his steps, no longer keeping pace with Sukuna as he came to a separate and far more amusing conclusion.
“Like a cicada.”
The comment, while not wrong, was enough to prompt his father to halt as well, palm tempted to smack his own forehead. Instead, Sukuna roughly strewn his fingers through his hair before shaking his head altogether in displeasure.
“A cockroach.” His father corrected, only for Yuji to squint at him.
“No, I meant— because cicadas sleep underground…”
And aren't they unfathomably loud and annoying when awake? Uraume supplied the continuation to the sentence within their mind with a curt smile on their face, choosing to remain silent as they passed through the pair on their way to the kitchen. Yuji would call out for their support, but Uraume would commit to silence, hastily turning a corner to avoid committing to agreeing with the young master for a reason he would not care for.
Uraume passed by the young master’s quarters, delighted to find that Yuji had not thrown a block of ink or smeared his paper canvas when his father attempted to sit with him as he wrote or drew. The temptation was there, especially when specific flaws in line work or when a sound of displeasure had slipped out in relation to the subject of the boy’s choosing. Sukuna currently leaned an elbow on the boy’s desk, looking over Yuji’s shoulder as he humored some of his allotted personal time to host a rather bored King who had fallen into mild boredom. The little pup, who was not as little as he once was, had rested his head on their master’s leg in an attempt to remain close to Yuji. A tiny nipping-prone barrier to keep the boy safe. A bold staking of his claim against the one who had brought them together in the first place. Regardless of the opposition, a large finger would mindlessly press against the pup’s head and occasionally rub behind the ear. Indeed, it was a warning to the beast to remain at ease and not a sign that its presence had grown on him. No one would dare claim the latter where Sukuna’s ears could catch the sound of it.
Reluctantly, Yuji went through a few of his portraits, as he had with Uraume prior. He admitted to his preference for drawing faces over full-body depictions due to a disparity in skill, though he was pleased to say that he believed himself to be improving. The young master also struggled with animals, as he failed to draw little Sato many times over in a more realistic style. A failure he continued to apologize for aloud as if the pup would be angry with him when it seemed that a simple scribble in the vague shape of a wolf had been satisfying enough.
“This is Nanami.” Yuji held up a picture of a tired-looking man. He wore a pair of glass disks over his eyes, something the boy had explained were used to hide and protect the eyes while also dimming the light that reached them. Clear versions were created to assist with sight instead of hindering it in a kind of magnification effect. When attempting to draw the specific version of ‘glasses’ the boy described for this man in particular, he had fumbled a bit with too much ink and had to make multiple attempts to get it right. “I call him Nanamin. Can’t be Nanami-sensei, he is not a teacher. But, Nanami-san is too long. So, Nanamin.”
That odd honorific was the one Yuji added to Uraume’s name. He did so out of respect, something he repeated for many figures in his life. Sukuna, even now, has never received the same treatment as when his name was used. As long as Yuji addressed him by their relation often enough, the disrespect was overlooked, perhaps as a trade for still referring to him as ‘brat’ even now.
“He held the record for most black flashes in a row.” Four fingers were brought up to Sukuna’s face. “Four.”
“Hmph.”
As far as Uraume was aware, their master could not boast a claim of equal standing or higher. He did not require the need to rely on the phenomenon. His natural strength and cursed energy alone handled a majority of opponents with ease. Should the need arise for anything further, the options to fight between Cursed Techniques and tools were vast.
“This is Todo.” Yuji moved on to another face, a peer from another branch of the same school he attended. A muscular individual with a notable scar over one of his eyes and hair tied into a messy top-knot.
“His face annoys me.” Sukuna was referring to the cocky smile Yuji had drawn him with, all teeth exposed and boundless confidence. He looked as if he were the type of sorcerer to get in over his head due to the lack of forethought. Durable but woefully underwhelming beyond what looks may tease.
“He calls me brother.”
“He one of your siblings?” Justified in his earlier annoyance, their master’s scowl grew. Before his stomach mouth could begin cursing Kenjaku’s name, Yuji moved quickly to correct the assumption.
“Not actual brother. Sworn brother? We fought this powerful cursed spirit together… First, we found common ground after he stopped his classmates from trying to kill me. Then I got caught up in the moment while fighting—” Defending Yuji against the company he kept would not be enough to change either Sukuna or Uraume’s mind. “—That was when I matched Nanamin’s Black Flash record!”
“Have you surpassed it since?” His father continued to pay attention to the subject of the drawing with little mind. Yuji had showcased three Black Flashes in a row at the fishing village. Typically overkill, if the river spirit had not been as bulky as it was. Curses flowed as deep as the water itself, carried from those further upstream. The boy may land one or two during training, but they were few and far between, still more than the average of any one sorcerer.
“Not yet.”
Yet.
The possibility was there, and Sukuna was pleased to hear it.
Yuji continued with a few others he found interesting before moving on to something else. He never showed distaste for anyone he brought up. Frustration in some memories or melancholy in others, but no one had elicited true negativity until it came to discussing Sukuna himself. Or rather, both versions, as Yuji found it a good enough time as any to compare the two he knew visually.
He did not announce the subject of his next drawing. All he did was pick up whichever size brush he desired and work on drawing his father’s face, which was more detailed than the hidden shreds Uraume had found now that the subject was sitting right beside him for reference. It was only when Sukuna caught on to what Yuji was doing that his son got more demanding, ordering his father to shift the angle of his face a bit to get whatever detail he was after until he had enough on the page to discuss.
“They make me angry but are fun to draw. You don’t have all the same marks as… the other Sukuna.” Yuji muttered under his breath, trying to stop referring to the Sukuna of his era as ‘his’ in a possessive sense. That shadow of their master did not deserve the honor. “Is it because he became a cursed object?”
To explain what he meant, Yuji pulled out a drawing of himself. One without scars or evocative expression. A blank canvas to copy many of their master’s tattoos onto while adding a mark in the center of his forehead. Said marks appeared at the time of possession, specifically when the other Sukuna was in control. They were consistent when the vessel had changed to another. Yuji did not need nor would create another art piece to establish that.
“You’re missing the forehead mark, extra bands… but only one here?” Yuji had gone from pointing between his father’s eyes to gesturing toward his wrist. He quickly painted two disconnected bands over his left wrist to emphasize the difference. Presumably, this difference in number applied to both hands. “Maybe… Because there are only two hands when possessing someone? The shoulders are different too…”
The two would ponder for a bit. Sukuna’s eyes continued to wander between both portraits, bemused at the thought of his markings mirrored on his son. He did not express a desire to see it made permanent; however, he went so far as to demand the boy clean himself up after ink threatened to dye his robes unintentionally.
When Uraume next passed by after their allotted tasks had been completed, Yuji could be found asleep at this desk, supplies strewn about, with their master dozed off beside him. Yet, Sukuna had noticed their spying, sensitive to the light footsteps Uraume had attempted to hide. The interruption was enough to spur him awake and see himself to his own quarters without so much another word. Before he left, the portrait Yuji had drawn of him remained in clear sight, presenting their master with the opportunity to swipe it for himself. It was doubtful that it would be missed. Wishful thinking would suggest that Yuji may have left it out on purpose as a way to offer it indirectly.
Only the young master would know.
As enough time had passed without incident, Yuji was trusted to wander quite a bit further out from the estate without direct supervision compared to where he started. Expressing his wish to remain in Sukuna’s domain and behaving within that desire had afforded him a bit more trust. A reward that he would not take for granted. Extended barriers would still be put into place to notify their master if Yuji pushed his limits or suddenly fell into old and tiresome habits, but they would prove unneeded as time went on. His previous attempt to disappear had ended in failure. There was nothing beneficial in attempting it a second time. With all that said, there were some days when the weather turned just a bit nicer, and speckles of green poked out of the windswept snow that the boy’s prolonged absence caused concern. Uraume felt a bit ashamed in their wavering faith, but it was their duty to account for all possibilities in an attempt to deter the household away from further hardship.
Thus, once a suitable threshold of time came and went, they took it upon themselves to track the boy down and figure out what had captivated him so much to remain outside. Little Sato had been missing as well. Ideally, the two were together. Between the lingering trails of cursed energy and a series of intermingled tracks belonging to the pair in question, it did not take Uraume long to end up in the easternmost corner of the estate.
It took even less time to pick out the most puzzling scene.
In opposition to the white canvas still claiming dominion over the land, a sweet, blossoming tree filled with faint pink and white blossoms had taken over a tiny area to call its own. A juvenile, no larger than their master, now played host to a crouching Yuji in the midst of placing entire blossoms into little Sato’s fur while a couple of petals had fallen in his hair. Uraume guessed that the little one had slid into the poor tree’s trunk based on the messy tracks and disturbed snow around them.
Had there always been a plum tree on these grounds?
“Yuji-sama,” Uraume began with a hand over their mouth, attempting to avoid laughter at the sight of such a ridiculous scene. “What are you doing?”
Unaware of their approach, Yuji met Uraume with eyes wide and full of surprise, only to blush with intensity greater than the color of his hair.
“…We match?”
Little Sato yipped in agreement, his tail wagging about, causing enough tremors in his body to shake off many of the adornment the young master had spent time weaving in. Uraume could only sigh at the scene, relieved to have been met with something so innocent in comparison to any other worrisome thought that happened to rot in the back of their mind.
Their appearance, though lacking in any additional comments, was enough to signify to the boy that it was time for his return to the estate proper. No argument of any kind would rear its head. All too used to the rhythm they’ve cultivated, Yuji climbed to his feet, intending to walk back until a soft breeze rattled the blossoms overhead.
He could not help but stare.
“I can’t believe it's already past the new year.” He muttered to no one in particular. There had been no celebrations yet, as the lunar calendar dictated. These blossoms were the heralds of the spring that would eventually come. Yuji had fallen from his time into theirs before his year’s end. The battle he had been preparing to partake in was placed in the hands of those he left behind. There seemed to be a mild disparity in their calendars and possible times of the year, which made sorting out just how much time had passed in his era compared to his a bit difficult. And that was assuming time was moving congruently. “I wonder what happened, if everyone is…”
His thoughts fell apart as questioning their fate invited the possibility of misfortune and worse to worm its way into his mind. Such thoughts were entirely unneeded. Uraume would not stand to see the young master upset over something so far out of his control.
“If they are as capable as you—”
“—More than me—” Yuji asserted, glistening eyes avoiding Uraume’s sight.
“—Then much is in their favor.” They could not insist that the boy’s allies would succeed against another version of their master. Sukuna, while he did not think kindly of his counterpart, would not deny that the knowledge, skill, and power he possessed wouldn't be present in a future version regardless of any ritual to extend his being that far forward. Lone champions and entire armies all fell equally at his feet. But if Yuji were anything to judge in terms of developing talent and quick thinking, the chance, however slim, was present.
It was worth mentioning.
“Uraume-san… Thank you.”
The pair returned together. One hummed a tune only familiar through the boy’s introduction while the other listened. It was a short walk but a pleasant one, ending after reaching the top of the shinden’s back steps, as this was where their paths would diverge.
However, just as Uraume turned their head, the feeling of fingers moving through their hair caused them to spin around and stumble back. Their feet had quickly found a proper stance for a fight as deemed necessary from their reflexes, yet when Uraume’s hand smacked the part of their head that had been disturbed, they were met with one of the blossoms tucked between the strands.
“Your name…” Yuji pointed to what he had done with an apologetic look on his face for the fright. “It fits.”
He then smiled and waved Uraume off, seemingly unbothered about whether they should decide to toss it or keep it.
What so-called servant would toss a gift from the one they cared after? The accessory in Uraume’s hair was given no more thought, and it was permitted to stay as long as the blossom remained vibrant, and their hair worked to keep it in place.
It would not take long for his father to notice it. A single glance would come Uraume’s way when serving tea. And just when they thought that would be the end of it, Sukuna chose to comment on it.
“You, who had written off the rest of humanity to stand at my side, have become so taken with him.” If there were more to the thought, Uraume would not hear it as their master moved to indulge in his drink with no intention of speaking further.
“It could not be helped. I have sworn myself to you, and your kin would naturally follow.” Uraume tilted their head with a hand, unconsciously brushing the hair by their ear to keep the blossom in place. It had become second nature now. Their heart endeared to the boy in a way they could not undo. “Is that strange?”
“No. Not at all.”
Silence persisted for a time. Something appeared to vex their master as the mouth on his stomach soured, but they could not figure out what. Was there anything more to be said? The air had become awkward, but not enough for Uraume to think further on the matter, only to press their luck with a light tease.
“Do you wish for Yuji to place a plum blossom in your hair, Sukuna-sama?”
“Do not be ridiculous.” Their master sputtered at the suggestion, cursing as he came close to choking on his tea. “Something that childish suits you far better.”
That was his unique way of a compliment.
If father and son, so adamantly opposed to one another, could agree on that fact, then Uraume had no choice but to accept that miracle for what it was.
While low temperatures and obscured visibility made travel difficult this time of year, a bout of clear skies and a rare reprieve from the cold presented the perfect time to stretch one’s legs and make an effort to break out of the home at least once before the next storm ushered them back inside. Everyone in the estate had been stricken with a fever, some milder than others, itching for something of interest to happen beyond what their own minds could stir in the meantime.
After some discussion with Uraume, which was more like they were being told what was to happen rather than being asked to debate their master’s decision, Sukuna decided it was time to travel south and appear before the growing settlement nestled at the edge of his borders. It was an echo of a city, born out of central proximity to their master’s estate and borders, reminiscent of the emperor’s capital in function as a trading center rather than scale, which they were so woefully outmatched. No administrative capital had been dubbed within Sukuna’s territories. Still, many spoke of this ‘city’ to be one, as outsiders rarely traveled further out of fear that Ryomen Sukuna himself would stop them in their tracks to feast upon their heads.
Such stories were vast, and many devolved into bizarre and outlandish descriptions that brought amusement when repeated to the young master, preparing him for a figuratively larger stage and a crowd to match it. His behavior, while certainly not expected to play into any rumors about either his father or himself, was to be checked with such perceptions in mind. Uraume would continue to stress this when adjusting his veil and picking at his traveling attire that had been restored for this very trip, especially since their master would not be present to watch over him at every step, as he had his own affairs to attend to.
“You don’t want me there?” Too used to Sukuna keeping him pinned to his side, Yuji looked upon his father with ample skepticism. They were paces away from entering the city, and instead of parading him around the main road, his father uncharacteristically pushed him to do what he pleased.
“It will be a loathsome endeavor unless a sliver tongue turns out to be gilded.” Their master spoke of the meetings he had declared would transpire that day, with or without forewarning. Some held enough influence here to be worth his time. In addition, a few merchants from outside his domain had reached out in inquiry about possible business to make use of regional trade routes through the region. It was no battle, but it was necessary work to continue overseeing the land under his claim. Delegating menial tasks such as these to others indefinitely can permit unsavory and selfish practices to slip through the cracks. “As much as I would find such a scenario amusing with you present, I am offering a chance for you to… mingle as you so fondly do. I can rescind that offer—”
“—No! I am very grateful for the chance!” No need to be told twice, Yuji bowed in thanks and proceeded to dash ahead, with the little Sato following staunchly at his side.
“Shall I keep an eye on him?” Uraume stepped into their master’s view, awaiting their orders.
“Both will certainly be necessary.”
The young master’s excitement quickly simmered down upon crossing through the city gates. It was not a matter of being mindful of his own conduct, but the cold atmosphere that had little to do with the weather sweeping through the region.
Few people were walking about. Fewer were willing to appear within the eyesight of the King of Curses or his spawn, all too aware that it would be no different from courting death should a single misstep be taken. Even without such reputable guests, this place was notorious for housing one too many dubious individuals seeking haven from those pursuing their crimes furhter south. The chance that actions significant enough to disturb the fragile peace within would reach Sukuna’s ears— as if their Master would deal with something so trivial personally —was enough to keep more heinous crimes at bay. Petty acts of thievery and the like were dealt with as they came, should they be dealt with at all. There were a handful of mercenaries for hire who enforced local civil law within city walls, but they mostly acted as reminders that this settlement was not to be treated as a free-for-all.
Uraume hoped and prayed that nothing of the sort would transpire around the young master if only to avoid causing a scene that could trickle into something out of their control. Or that was the point of relinquishing him to go off on his own. They could picture their master taking amusement in more rumors of the boy to reach the sorcerer’s ears. A show of power and ability, regardless of the context, would do well to scare them.
Was their role to keep Yuji out of trouble or contain it?
About to shake their head, Uraume halted their action at the sound of a particular bold elderly man calling out and waving to the young master in question.
“You there!” It would take Yuji a moment to realize this as he pointed a finger at himself for confirmation before answering his summon without question. “Young lord, Prince! Oh, for this geezer to look upon you with these old eyes…”
Those within earshot were aghast with the man’s poor manner of speech, though Yuji could not be any further from sharing their reaction. Already, a smile had appeared under his veil as he greeted the old man, making small talk over the vegetables he was grilling in preparation to sell. A miscellaneous collection, nothing too enticing, yet this did not stop Yuji from accepting his offer to take some for himself as he listened to mundane stories from an elder who continued to space out mid-conversation if it weren’t for the woman with him to keep him in check.
Why these warranted his attention… Uraume did not entirely know, but they had not been ordered to force him anywhere in particular. Left to stand and listen to the boy speak with less confidence than he possessed at home, the interaction garnered the stares and whispers Uraume had expected for an entirely different reason.
The day went on like this.
One strange interaction cascaded into many as the young master proved himself leagues more approachable than his father. An air of intimidation followed him by way of relation or by his imposing cursed energy for those who could sense it. Still, after a few words were exchanged, Yuji managed to get some to relax and others to approach him with simple questions or small talk of their own.
“The Prince of Curses is here? Outside? I am indecent!”
“Forgive me, Prince, you are so much smaller than the King… I may have something tailored to your size!”
“Come try these sweets, Young Master; they are from across the sea.”
Uraume suspected many were attempting to curry favor, especially the merchants, who had no shortage of wares to showcase and minor gifts to impose on the boy in hopes their memory would remain fresh in his mind. Too bashful to accept them right away, the threat of his displeasure would only prompt them to insist harder, lest Yuji stand his ground— which he did not —and order them to keep their distance— which he never felt the need to .
“Please take this parchment with you, I insist.”
“These spices were hard to come by; allow me to tell you a fascinating tale.”
“All of these Cursed Tools are legitimate, I assure you—”
They were not. And that was Uraume’s cue to nudge Yuji’s attention elsewhere, whistling to the pup to follow in tandem to avoid being swarmed. The approval from the Prince of Curses would do wonders for business as an endorsement and a means to stave off misfortune from those who would think twice about interfering with merchants in association with him.
“You must command more respect,” Uraume whispered to Yuji when the pair was able to find a place to breathe. “To allow them to approach and speak so freely, never once did Sukuna-sama have to endure this, this—”
“Fun?” Yuji chuckled, all too aware that his antics were not alleviating the building stress Uraume felt approaching. “They are livelier than the fishing village.”
“Between the festival and your defeat of that river spirit, let alone what nonsense Kenjaku could have spewed… You certainly carry a different weight than your father. Do not let others take advantage because of that.”
“I won’t.” In contrast to the boy’s insistence that he had taken their advice to heart, yet another spectacle would draw him elsewhere. “Uraume-san, look!”
The young master had become distracted once again.
Oh, well.
Little could be done to fight it, as it was in poor taste to have one’s servant berate them over and over. Uraume would simply do their best to curb the madness when it got out of hand. So long as Yuji was enjoying himself and no harm was being done, they could accept the nonsense he brought with him. Eventually, order would have to fall into place. But by the time Uraume could catch a glimpse of that normalcy they had worked so desperately to maintain in their master’s absence. Yet, another unexpected event would dash away their hopes entirely.
It all started with someone calling the young master’s name.
Not his title, nor his rank of prince, but his given name. Surely, it was coincidental? It was not an uncommon name. Uraume had established as such before. No one present within this city aside from his father would know to use that name to address the young master. If by some rare chance, it was learned from certain passersby, only those responsible for sharing it would dare refer to him so inappropriately.
But to hear the name repeated again and again shouted desperately through the streets…
Yuji was not deaf to it. More worryingly, he was drawn to it, leading him to begin dashing through the disorganized streets to locate where the voice was coming from. Uraume and little Sato were forced to give chase to match the young master’s sudden burst in speed.
“Young master— !” Uraume shouted after him, surprised to see that Yuji came to an abrupt stop in the center of the upcoming intersection. It was not by their pleas that he did so, as his gaze had intensified, honed in on something just out of Uraume’s view. “What is…?”
“YUJI?”
Uraume slowed down as the distance between themselves and the boy dwindled. Now able to follow in the direction of his attention, they squinted in opposition to the glaring sun to make out the sight of a frantic young man darting around its center. A strange young man in even stranger clothes, panting in the middle of a growing crowd drawn to his odd act of constantly fumbling over his own feet in a terrible panic.
Worst of all, the disheveled twin-tailed felt familiar, yet Uraume could not place why.
“Yuji? Yuji—!” The crazed young man kept shouting between bouts of utter nonsense, drawing the young master to cautiously step closer. The shake in Yuji’s legs was a sign of nervousness and unease. Something— no, someone —was troubling him, yet before Uraume could attempt to do something about it, the very one responsible jerked his head Yuji’s way, and the surprise on his face could not be any more apparent.
All it took was for Yuji to raise his veil to see that face shift from paralyzing shock to unfettered recognition and relief that had no place here. Before anyone knew it, and to their horror, the young man— that uncanny stranger —had rushed the young master, who made no effort to dodge. He threw his arms over Yuji’s shoulders to yank him into a constricting hold, now clutching the boy's head, wailing profusely between nonsensical screams.
The act of anyone approaching their ward this way, to touch someone whom they had no right to, had sent Uraume’s instinct into a frenzy before their mind could make sense of it all. Bitter frost encased their fingertips, summoning a razor-sharp blade of ice in one hand while another prepared a ranged attack to immobilize this impudent cretin when the chance showed itself. Their instincts would draw said individual into meeting their challenge, acknowledging Uraume as an enemy to face with a Cursed Technique of his own. One that Uraume should have expected, given the clues already at their disposal, but it would take blood flowing into the air in a fractal-like pattern behind his back as a precursor to the several red spheres floating around his head.
That was Blood Manipulation.
This was a member of the Kamo clan.
Not just any member, this was—
“Uraume— Stop!”
Yuji snapped out of his daze, his body back in motion and intent on placing himself between opposing forces before the escalating exchange could devolve into something to regret. Nonsense words— far from nonsense, simply a language not well understood —were shouted over the young master’s shoulder toward the impossible stranger to urge him to drop his technique, just as Yuji would return to Uraume in hopes of accomplishing the same.
Only this time, the young master was doing his best not to let the joyous tears in his eyes burst, just as the one behind him had.
“Uraume-san, see, look— Uraume-san, he’s my big brother!”
Choso.
The eldest of Yuji’s siblings.
Reason won, and Uraume lowered their hands, though their weapon of ice would remain intact as they worked through what this meant. How did this Choso, whom Uraume and presumably Yuji had believed to be in the future the young master had left behind, find his way here? What were his intentions? Was he here to take the boy away from them—
Oh.
Oh, dear.
Uraume raised a hand over their mouth in disbelief, only to just now realize that Yuji had shouted his familial claim in front of too large of a crowd. The rumors that would come of this, should they reach a certain scheming sorcerer’s ears… There would be no short of entertainment at their expense.
“Sukuna-sama, forgive me…”
Notes:
I live! Another long chapter in exchange for a bit longer of an absence. I do hope to have the next one posted by next weekend (praying) but for now, I am delighted with how this one turned out.
I intended this chapter to evoke two feelings, catharsis after everything we've been through, and a similar vibe/rhythm to the first couple of chapters where it was just day-to-day estate life. Choso's appearance (more on that later) is in similar fashion to Kenjaku's, in that it is a disrupting element to change the newly established status quo. Originally, I had not planned for any of this chapter beyond Choso's appearance after Tengen's departure, but the pacing felt off, so... here we are!Notes:
-According to the guidebook, Yuji ranks second from the bottom between Tokyo & Kyoto students in terms of academics. While there are many jokes made at his intelligence, I do not believe him to be 'dumb' as intelligence is relative and who is imparting the knowledge as well as the method can accomplish wonders. He's not a miraculous genius, but rather, finding his stride and putting his best traits forward.
-The two locations Sukuna & Yuji choose when speaking of places they are fond of have direct ties to locations we've seen in the manga. Yuji's more obvious, as it is the small town of his memories that he shows Sukuna during the final battle (Heian Sukuna is far more receptive) Sukuna's choice location is the cave in which his counterpart's mummified corpse was stored by Tengen beneath the barrier she placed in the Hida mountains. There are actual limestone caves in the region that my friend believes to be the inspiration for [Hida Great Limestone Cave] and it is worth looking up when you have the chance!
-Shitomi are what the shutters mentioned in narration are called & were a characteristic of Heian Noble/Shinden style buildings.
-What can I say, I love archery! I have done this type of scene between Yuji and Sukuna *in the Heian Era* before, but the context is quite different. I could not argue myself out of writing it again, as the IRL Sukuna myth depicts him wielding a bow + our King's use of the flame arrow. I also adore the call back to the gifts he bribed Yuji with, as with many of these scenes, they are payoffs to previous interactions.
-Sukuna is allowed to be in Yuji's room without immediate opposition. Yahoo! Yuji finally gives sukuna a drawing of him in his own way, which fulfills Uraume's request when he attempted to offer a drawing he made of them in a prior chapter.
-Also, take great care to appreciate that reluctant dog dad Sukuna is now petting the puppy. Q.Q
-Yuji calling Yorozu a cicada sounds even funnier in my head. I think of it like a moment of wonder or clarity that is whispered in no particular direction. The description matches the bug theming of her technique.
-Plum [Ume] blossoms bloom as early as January. Yuji didn't appear in the past on the same day as the present (Mid-December) but earlier in the fall. His understanding of how much time has passed since his arrival makes him believe he has missed out on quite a lot. Additionally, Yuji referencing Uraume's name containing the character for plum, returns to the topic of names and meanings between them.
-Designing/world building a not-city was a unique challenge because I didn't have any particular place of reference beyond its comparison to the Heian capital of the era. I stuck with some general thoughts and ideas that made the most sense in my head, but I cannot claim any historical basis for this unnamed place. I originally wanted Choso to just appear somewhere amongst the outskirts of the estate, but a lot of characters have already done that, so his appearance ended up being in front of a crowd that had a lot more moving parts and implications to it because it keeps things interesting.
- Ahem, CHOSO! Yes, I know I have teased a few different possible characters to come back in time after Yuji, and while all would be interesting and fun to write, the subject of found family lead me to fall into old habits and bring back my favorite big brother. Next chapter will contain the explanation of how and why, but for now, laugh with me as Choso cannot communicate in this era whatsoever, so he must have gotten himself into a lot of trouble... XDAS YOU ALL MAY SEE, I have officially declared the chapter count for this fic to be 16. This number encapsulates what I have planned, and it should only change if a chapter (like usual) extends itself past the outline OR I decide to post the omake I have planned within the fic itself rather than a separate fic in the same series.
I am so stoked for what is to come. Happy 100k words everyone! I will 100% go back and edit throughout the week to make up for my impatient habits. Until then, take care and have a wonderful week ahead. ;D
Chapter 14: His Lies Were Coming To A Head
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“Choso is here. My older brother is here!” The young master repeated himself, fighting to regain composure while convincing himself of the very sight before him. He had become overtaken by the need to hold his brother’s wrist and toy with lifting it up and down to ensure everything was sound. Further poking and prodding would end with an exchange of expressions. Yuji’s wide smile and Choso’s worn, tearful relief. It was a quiet moment, short and filled with erratic excitement as Yuji spun around, one hand on his hip and another pointing a thumb over his shoulder.
“Not to fight, he’s here for…” Yuji blinked, suddenly hit with the very questions Uraume had already shouted in their mind. “How is he here? How are you—”
An immediate switch occurred between jovial expression in a language Uraume knew and harsh, possibly reprimanding anger in a language Choso understood took place. Just when they had gotten past shouting at one another, the young master’s voice overtook the entire street as balled fists were battered unrelenting against his brother’s chest. Not a single strike held enough impact to do lasting harm. It appeared more performative than anything else, emphasizing his frustration while his older brother raised his own hands to seemingly plead for Yuji to stop. Both were very capable of doing much worse if the cursed energy Uraume sensed surrounding Choso were to be believed. Although…
Following in his master’s footsteps, little Sato needed nothing else to share in Yuji’s anger and snarl at the intruding presence ruining their outing. The pup’s noise drew further attention and created a spectacle that required Uraume to reign in before anything else got out of hand.
“Return to your own affairs. Intrude any further and none you will not live to speak of this.” Uraume hissed at the nearby observers, icicles extending from the ground beneath their feet to creep toward them in a sharp and jagged line. “Begon.”
That single word was enough to spook them off, as did the bitter glow from their eyes and the unwelcome gale swirling about the street. Uraume had become equated to their master’s shadow in recent years, but it would seem that few required a demonstration regarding the power that earned them that very right. The Prince of Curses may be more approachable, but the company he carries whether he wishes to or not is far from the same.
Attention returned to the brothers, who at this point had ceased all yelling. Yuji was in the midst of raising a confused pup off the ground to an equally confused Choso. Words were spoken, assumed to be an encouragement for the two to get closer, resulting in little Sato growling at the hesitant hand all too aware that the pup would bite if touched.
“Sato. He is a good boy.” Yuji repeated himself in his era’s tongue, assumed by the use of Sato’s name. This habit would persist in the days ahead, as no one else could fill the void in relaying context and intent to all parties. “Choso is family. Do not bite.”
Choso raised an eyebrow, taking Yuji’s word for it before gesturing beyond the pup and to the boy specifically. His clothes, his hair, and effort were made to reach for what he could safely feel for any sign of harm or malnourishment. Hesitant fingers would eventually find themselves hovering over his scars, familiar hallmarks in contrast to all that had changed. He would not touch these in fear of what memory physical connection may spark. Saddened, yet fond all the same, Choso broke from his brother after a significant pause to turn to the unexpected party at Yuji’s side. Skepticism and clear resentment lingered on Choso’s face, caused by their future counterpart no doubt.
Uraume felt their disdain for their other self grow, sympathizing with the barriers their master had unknowingly constructed against him every step regarding his son.
Another exchange between the brothers followed. More confusion and all manner of worry repeatedly caused the young master to stammer through what little he could speak in his reaction. His brother had shared something important. Something profound. Enough to eventually cease all sound from Yuji as his face fell and the top of his head pressed into his brother’s chest. Tears dripped onto the ground, freezing upon contact as a result of Uraume’s proximity. Was he upset again? What had this brother of his who caused nothing by disruption and turmoil done now?
Uraume approached the young master’s side, reaching his shoulder before his brother could once again place a hand upon Yuji’s head. Regardless of whatever reservations the elder brother may have, Uraume ignored him and continued fixing the veil to once again cover his face to recover when little privacy could be salvaged.
“May I suggest that conversation continues elsewhere? Sukuna-sama had informed me of the merchant who offered residence for our stay, and while it is earlier than expected, I can lead us there now. I am sure his servants are well aware of our impending arrival.”
The use of their master’s name sent a noticeable jolt through Choso’s body. His face flashed with far too many emotions, none of them positive, with concern for Yuji’s safety taking precedence above all else. That must be why the elder brother gripped the young master so tight, threatening to pull him away, possibly take him further should Uraume’s vigilance falter even once to create an opening to permit it.
In direct opposition to all that stood Yuji, who was far more agreeable to the plan laid out. A nod confirmed this, after which, the boy turned to his brother and translated Uraume’s words. Sukuna’s name was noticeably absent. The lack of further rejection from Choso, however, allowed this exchange to be overlooked.
“All good. You know that way, so we will follow you.”
“Of course.”
While it was far from ideal to have one’s servant walk in front, it was better than the alternative of watching the boy fumble going right or left in time with the directions Uraume would have offered outright. The streets of this city were not as uniform as the rigorous grid found in the construction of Heian-kyō. Their chances of getting turned around were not high, but they were enough to be a cause of stress that was no longer an issue, replaced by the need for Uraume to glance back at the two brothers to ensure that they remained close behind.
Yuji’s distraction-prone antics were overtaken by the presence of his older brother. A boon. But what had Uraume puzzled was the sudden silence between them. What had they discussed? What harrowing news had his brother brought? As certain as they wanted to be in regards to the young master’s willingness to share, Uraume knew that when offered the chance to keep things to himself, Yuji would certainly take it.
A question for later. Causing a wedge to form when Choso’s presence could possibly make it worse would not be ideal. And regarding further points of contention…
“Has Kamo-dono been made aware of your title here, your role?” Uraume asked the boy catching on their left, already aware of the answer. “Your brother fears for you. He does not have to.”
“Just Choso and I will tell him what I can. Especially before we meet up with…” A nervous chuckle cut the thought short. Anticipation for what was to come had caused a mild form of dread, unsure whose reaction he would have to worry about. “How do I tell him that Sukuna is my father now?”
“With your words.”
“That is not what I meant. You know that.” The light tease had caused the young master to pout.
“Considering the weight and the complexity of the subject, and the immediate need to say something now before your father and your brother meet, I would speak directly on the matter.” Uraume reiterated their stance with proper reasoning behind it. “I am confident that you will find a way to lessen the impact of such a shocking change in relation.”
“Alright! Thank you, Uraume-san.”
Yuji fell back in line with his brother. A heavy intake of air could be heard before a hasty sentence already short on its own rapidly spewed out from his mouth. That was not what Uraume had thought would come to mind, but the young master would know his brother best—
“Choso!”
Uraume spun around to find said elder brother tripping over his own feet, causing Yuji to jump forward to assist in keeping steady. Awkward laughter rang out at Choso’s expense, devolving into what may be a series of apologies based on the boy’s eyebrows and the lack of genuine joy on his face. The mixed reaction would ultimately be cast aside, exchanged for something more mellow as a much longer explanation would follow.
This merchant whom Uraume had not cared to recall a name for was one of the few leeches whom their master tolerated for casual conversation. It was surprising, given how common it was, though perhaps that only made it forgettable in comparison to more unique and standout encounters. He had become wealthy in the steady increase of trade in the region, dealing in more… dubious and hard-to-acquire goods. His home reflected this, lacking in weathered history and plastered with overindulgent showcases of wealth. A lackluster echo of a noble estate with none of the societal prestige, Housing and entertaining the King of Curses was a feat to further boast about, making up for the failings of his station. If it wasn’t for his use in seeking specific objects of rumor that caught their master’s fancy, Uraume was sure that he would have been done away with a long time ago.
Yuji and Choso sat on the front steps of their guest lodgings. A separate building, as grand as the main house with greater privacy deeper within the property. While many trees had been cleared to make the land bend to the owner’s needs, twice as many had been brought in to obscure each path and pavilion. Servants knew to keep out of sight, aptly responding to Uraume’s requests while the brothers spoke non-stop without little care for the ongoings just out of sight.
It would be more accurate to state that Yuji spoke non-stop. Uraume had thought themselves surprised by the boy’s recent energy with his father, then this display had certainly blown them out of the water. More words had left the boy’s mouth than ever before. The sound was enough to keep Uraume’s attention for a time. The pup had been caught in a similar state, lying down behind his master with ears twitching at possible commands he could make no sense of. Choso, meanwhile, followed the exaggerated poses accompanying what must be a grand tale of Yuji’s time in this era without complaint. While not as intense as when they were experienced first-hand, Uraume picked up on the eb and flow of emotions which often elicited a quiet lull or heavy sigh before Yuji continued.
Was his brother a man of few words, or still caught up in the initial shock of it all?
Uraume had learned to find suspicion in all who crossed their path, and the young master’s brother was no exception. The timing of his appearance felt odd. As did the convenience of their meeting, taking place just as father and son had traveled beyond their home. The toxic aura muddling Choso’s cursed energy was another point of contention. Tainted, almost eroding upon approach, what had been flakes within a larger sum within Yuji’s cursed energy simply overrun his brother’s.
What did that mean? This was a young man— a human —sitting at Yuji’s side, but he felt… A piece was missing. A piece Yuji was already aware of, as this feeling they no doubt shared did not bother him in the slightest. Blinded by his own desperation for joy? Uraume hoped not, but it was their place to worry when the young master did not. For his benefit.
In the meantime, a messenger had been sent to inform their master of the recent development. It would be up to him how quickly he responds. A feeling, spurred on by experience, told Uraume that they would not have to wait long.
And they were right.
Their master’s cursed energy alerted his presence before the sound of his steps. Preferring to catch him before both parties could meet, Yuji rushed out to his father to intercept, acting as a barrier to prevent further approach.
“Hello, father!” Yuji called out with exaggeration in both expression and tone. Uraume could only shake their head as Sukuna grabbed hold of his son’s, refusing to be distracted by the energy that had been put into his bouncy movement.
This act had brought out a hiss from Choso, who had naturally followed to keep Yuji within his sights. Sukuna had used no pressure to cause the boy harm, but the sight alone was enough to bring about immediate hostility. Choso’s hair stood on its end. Blood dripped from the band across the older brother’s face. Defying gravity, the red liquid separated and compressed into smaller orbs. Should the boy express any hint of pain, Choso was prepared to strike in retaliation.
This was a warning. A threat. Sukuna was to let him go, yet their master would stand and scrutinize the newcomer without change in his stance.
“I see the resemblance.”
“Choso got caught up in the same accident!” Yuji’s voice was a bit hard to catch at first. He had to free himself first, both hands grabbing either side of his father’s palm to shove it off. “We weren’t separated by time, but distance. He’s been searching for me. We have a connection— it’s through our blood —that he has been tracking.”
Connection through their blood? Was this a consequence of possessing Blood Manipulation? Uraume had not heard of this phenomenon before, but it was not out of the realm of possibility. Another development that may as well be blamed on the evolution of cursed techniques that time permits. And just as the young master had demonstrated before, Choso showed no signs of fatigue when manifesting all the blood beyond his body.
“And now he’s here!” The young master had freed himself entirely during Uraume’s musings. He had retreated a bit as well, now standing by his brother’s side with two hands gesturing toward him. His posing would suggest a carefree approach to the topic. Yet, previous nerves had not left. He needed his father to approve of him.
Choso understood this, and once again recalled his cursed technique. Additionally, the older brother stepped forward. He offered a bow, quite stiff and reluctant, and spoke a few words which required Yuji’s translation.
“Choso says that he is grateful for you taking me in.”
“In less kinder words, I presume?”
“I wouldn’t say that—”
His father’s words had caused a mild panic, only to be brushed aside as Sukuna showed little care for what had truly been said. His gaze lingered on the elder brother, gaining more from his appearance and posture than what Yuji felt the need to explain.
“I will acknowledge him as your brother, but he is no child of mine. Remain on these grounds and stay out of my sight until something worthwhile is served.” And that was all there was to be said. Yuji bowed in thanks, grabbing his older brother’s wrist immediately after to run up the steps to their lodging and follow the engawa encircling it with little Sato on their heels. Before he could leave his father’s view completely, Sukuna called out one more thing. “And do not get comfortable, we will return home tomorrow!”
Their trip had been cut drastically short. A recent change. Was this the result of Choso’s sudden appearance or had something else occurred?
“Were you able to accomplish what you came here for, Sukuna-sama?” Uraume walked toward their master, hands folding in front as it was their turn to welcome his return.
“Hardly. I doubt another day would produce better results. Once again, worthless fools owe the brat and the nonsense he brings their lives or I would gladly make a public show of their incompetence. For only one head to have rolled…”
“One?” The young master had leaned back around the nearest corner, having caught more of their conversation than they were prepared for and looking none too pleased because of it.
“Do not— What did I tell you about gilded tongues?” Exhausted, Sukuna snapped at Yuji and his penchant for prying. “Those who believe they can play two games at once should not make it so obvious. Everyone has a place, the most annoying are those who cannot comprehend theirs.”
“Fear… If it was to keep the current peace, I will understand.” The young master had not been present. The context of the encounter was lost to him, leaving him unable to argue against such actions beyond morals they do not share. To fight now would only cause tension and accomplish nothing. “I should be the one keeping my eyes on you.”
He had caught his father’s earlier comment? His use of it was, admittedly, amusing. However, his father did not see it that way.
“I recall dismissing you.”
Having pushed as far as he could without major consequence, Yuji fell back out of sight. The pair waited for his brother’s cursed energy to fade and all potential noise from that direction ceased, signifying that both had vacated. Once confident, Uraume followed their master toward the lit brazier inside.
“And what of our host?” It would be a bit awkward if it was his head rolling about.
“He is sorting through the fallout.” Sukuna sat down, already slouching due to his displeasure. “I have allowed myself to become too merciful in my distraction.”
“Considering the alternative response would spark debate and conflict between you and Yuji-sama, your chances of garnering goodwill with his brother would dwindle.” It would not be wise to rekindle previous animosity.
“And who believes that I would wish to do anything of the sort? His opinion means nothing. It is this ‘Choso’ who should worry about earning my favor in return.” With a sigh, Sukuna brought a bundle that had been kept safe in one of his lower hands to the forefront. Filled with scrolls and a few odd trinkets, Uraume could only assume they contained a multitude of things. Updates regarding the recent movement of goods, news of the capital, pleas, rare threats, and the occasional permissive expression of affection that a certain someone slipped into the hands of passing merchants on her behalf. “Lying to my face has earned none of it.”
“You believe their story to be false?”
“His brother appears now, a handful of months later with little similarities to the condition you had found the brat upon his discovery. If someone had taken him in, that would have been mentioned, and if he is anything like his sibling, he would have grasped some words to communicate.” No fault could be found in that assessment. In fact, the grave reality was that Uraume shared the same skepticism with evidence of their own.
“As far as I am aware, Choso has no items on him. Certainly nothing to facilitate travel over long distances. No mention was made of retrieving anything from where he may have been staying in the city.” Their next point was not as damning, but worth mentioning. “His manner of dress is not practical for the cold, but that may be due to what I have heard regarding Blood Manipulation’s ability to warm the blood.”
Scrolls continued to be picked up, rolled open, and cast aside. Proper attention would be given to them at a later time.
“There is truth to that. The brat attempts it on occasion, then returns to using Furnace. They require different channels of cursed energy to maintain.” Sukuna would force himself to drop the topic, aware that his interest in theory and application was more of a distraction than a meaningful contribution. “Regardless of what excuses we can fabricate, the look on my son’s face, the lack of confidence was too obvious. I have been lenient on allowing the brat to keep his means of arrival here a secret for so long. He has until we reach the estate to tell the truth of his own accord. If not, I shall pry it from him at his brother’s expense.”
Once again, Yuji was encroaching upon the limit of his father’s patience. Rage had returned, restrained as it was, influencing Sukuna’s tendency to fall into old habits and embrace a more impactful means of getting what he wants.
If Choso’s arrival was a recent one, then the matter of how became all the more relevant. Whether the elder brother was here in chase of the younger, or to retrieve the younger… The latter implies that the feat could be replicated. That Yuji could return home. Did the young master already know this? Was he keeping that information close to his chest, or was the fear of separation causing a reach for extremes?
If the ability for his son to return home was possible… Sukuna would not permit that. And as selfish as it was, aware of how much the boy yearned for his home, Uraume found it difficult to disagree.
Before their departure, Choso was given new clothes at Yuji’s request. A request repeated twice over, overturning his father’s stubbornness to provide something adequate. Simple clothes lacked vibrancy or patterns that would otherwise distinguish him from others in a crowd so long as his back was turned and his hair was tied down instead of up. He still garnered a few stares from those who passed by, fueled by his proximity to the King of Curses and the possible relation that it entailed. Yuji continued to fill the air with his words, often speaking twice over to keep everyone in the loop while his older brother followed along in silence much like Yuji had done before communication was more accessible. Little effort had been made on Choso’s behalf to address anyone beyond his brother, including the pup much to Yuji’s dismay, yet the same could be said for both Uraume and Sukuna in reverse. Uraume did not know what would be worth discussing and their master did not care to discuss it all.
Just as Uraume had noted previously, the startling shift in Yuji’s behavior had not been overlooked by his father. Sukuna did not appear all too pleased and it was not the boy himself whom his annoyance was directed toward, but the situation which brought this burst of confidence and extroverted tendencies.
Upon their return to the estate, a bit of time was given for Choso to be granted a tour facilitated by, yet again, his younger brother. A walk around the perimeter, a stroll through the open spaces in between before weaving through whichever storehouse or pavilion caught Yuji’s eye next. Even the kitchen was not safe from their heads poking in along with sticky fingers to swipe something Uraume would certainly notice and refrain from speaking of so long as it does not become a habit passed on to his brother.
Their tour ended with their arrival at Yuji’s quarters. Cloth partitions were brushed aside by the young master who pushed for Choso to enter and, presumably, look within while experiencing some kind of amazement or appreciation for the space Yuji had started to call home. His drawings by his desk were the first of many things thrust into Choso’s hands, only to be taken back with a bit of fluster. Then came the gifts he’d received, such as the bow from his father or the biwa from Yorozu. Completely lost within the moment, the young master had long forgotten Uraume’s presence, watching over them as he now spoke to Choso exclusively. A hand always trailed toward his older brother when his eyes did not, almost in fear that he would lose him once more if not careful. Uraume emphasized with such concern. It made the prospect of intruding on the moment all the more difficult.
Sukuna’s threat of confrontation still loomed overhead. Would it be Uraume’s place to say something? To urge Yuji to take the clear chance his father had given him and clarify what information he has purposefully withheld and his reasons for doing so? Or was it solely on the boy to realize this? Acting for the sake of his relationship with his father should be more than enough justification to try.
Unfortunately, by the time Uraume had worked themselves up to follow through with their decision, Sukuna’s patience had run out. Father and son stood opposed once more.
Their master tracked him to the bridge overlooking their frozen pond. Yuji was in the midst of speaking, pointing at the ice and describing some tale, too distracted to see the shift in his brother’s posture. Whatever breeze snuck through the garden had stilled. The sun was no longer visible in the overcast sky. All this compounded into a foreboding tension that peaked the moment the young master turned around and his words fell into silence.
“I have given you enough time, yet you continue to play ignorant.” Little time would be wasted in addressing the issue at hand. “You lie to my face, so poorly at that— Your mother would be ashamed.”
Yuji did not know how to respond at first. Perceptive enough to see that his lies were coming to a head, there was no use in further denying what he knew. There would be no more running from this topic either. He can only stand tall and face his father head-on. If the bridge had an arch, the pair would have been of similar height to match the intensity of their cursed energy flickering, threatening to ignite within.
“You say that like any of us should care.”
Stubborn to a fault, the boy would not immediately roll over. He goaded his father for specifics and to direct his suspicions carefully.
“The so-called accident which brought you here. Explain it. All of what you know, and if the story contradicts what you have said regarding your brother’s appearance, then amend the explanation behind why another has followed in your footsteps.” The temper in Sukuna’s voice caused Choso to read it as a threat. Yuji’s word and a couple of days of travel would not be enough to convince him that this version of Ryomen Sukuna was solely benevolent and should not be treated with caution. It was by his brother’s signal that he would act. Yet, the call to fight would never come. All he received was an arm placed in his path to prevent the positions between Yuji and he from switching.
“It really was an accident.”
“That means nothing.”
Yuji’s insistence had gotten him nowhere. There was much more to be done in order to salvage any trust in his words. Reluctant to heed his father’s demands, the young master glanced at his brother and whispered. He did not wait for an explanation before turning his attention back to Sukuna.
“We were training, preparing for the battle with your counterpart to the last minute, and a powerful Cursed Spirit was causing trouble so we thought… It wasn’t supposed to take long or be dangerous—More dangerous than what we’ve come to expect. But then it opened its domain, and out of instinct, two of us reacted the same way to counter it.” Yuji raised his hands as if to display a mudra he could not bring himself to finish. “I don’t know why I tried to do it. My domain is barely there. Incomplete. But I thought it was better than getting caught up in something unknown. A three-way clash, it… It tore something, and there was darkness. The next thing I knew, I woke up in the countryside. Not my countryside, yours.”
The cause of all this was a poorly executed domain clash from three sides?
Their master withheld the desire to laugh— potentially cry —at the absurdity.
Uraume did not know if the outcome he described was a possibility. Surely there were others who had attempted the same thing. Unless the specific parties involved within this scenario were more impactful variables. An accident due to inexperience and recklessness… Referring to it as a literal tear through space and time brought with it a specific image. A barrage of unfettered blades, not knowing where to strike only to snag on the impossible. But, an incomplete domain, one by the young master no less as the driving force of such a breach would be one way for Yuji to live up to his father’s destructive namesake.
“And him?” Sukuna pointed at Choso, offering no room to sit and discuss potential and impossibility. His hand pushed Yuji to speak with his brother again, straightening their story out before relaying it to his father and the one observing it all from the other side of the pond.
“From what my brother told me, I was the only one missing after the dust settled. They thought that I could be dead, but Choso refused to hear it. He begged my sensei to search the area, and the Six Eyes figured out what had happened. Gojo thought I was still alive, just lost somewhere else, and there could be a way to re-open the tear just large enough for someone to sneak through a search for me.” Yuji stepped toward the closest railing. Lacking in snow but still frozen to the touch, he still rested his elbows upon it as he peered down at the sheet of ice obscuring all the lie beneath. “There was an argument. A search and rescue was risky. They were—There was no time left. With only days before the battle, the chance of losing anyone else… I get it. Choso said he would go alone if he had to as long as sensei could make it possible, and he did. A talisman? It is too complicated to explain from what I was told. I don’t even know what words to use, but it worked.”
More of the boy’s weight fell onto the railing. A pause of contemplation came next. He had to decide whether the words that would come next were the right ones, only, all trepidation was tossed aside when he pushed himself back onto his feet.
“I can go home.”
The news, full of hope that had been previously left to shrivel and die, only brought unwanted pain to those who heard it. This isolated bubble encompassing the estate and its surrounding settlements had finally burst. Not through personal fallout, but the mockery of esoteric order wishing to see its separate worlds remain apart.
“And what was all this then?” Sukuna spread his two upper arms wide, turning and gesturing all around where they stood. “Returning here, with that one in tow. Were you biding your time to sneak off after gathering your things?”
“I can be stupid, but I am not that stupid. Running off didn’t work the first time, why would I do it again?” Offended, Yuji’s frustration began to show itself. “I am not ‘biding my time’ for something like that.”
“Then for what?”
“This! This talk, it—We could have pretended for one more day that I don't have to say this.” The young master stepped forward, fists shaking, yet he could not continue the charge. Reservations within his mind kept his body at bay. “There is a way for me to go home, and I...”
“Will not be taking it.” His father filled in the rest of his sentence, ignoring where Yuji's thoughts were headed.
“I have to.”
“You will do no such thing.”
“It’s my responsibility!” Was it truly? Were the sins of another, Yuji’s progenitors, his to bear? From a deadly and uncertain future to a stabilizing home, one that could provide the means for him to survive and thrive… Was it worth losing both? “This—Time isn’t flowing the same between my home and yours. All these months… For Choso it hasn’t been longer than a day. A day! I can still go back, I can make things right. I can still save him.”
Megumi, his savior. The source of his guilt and regret. How bold Uraume had been to ask such inane questions. That heroism ingrained within Yuji’s core and his tendency to latch onto others even if their memory was all he had… Of course it would be worth it.
“You declared that you wished to stay, and now you seek to leave.” Sukuna could not see it. No, he refused to open his eyes and accept it. How dare this child appear and bring with him a new avenue of pain to inflict. “I claim you as my son. I feed you, house you, and invest my time—”
“—I didn’t ask you to—”
“You still know nothing of respect!”
“It is because I am—That I care, that you cared to do all those things… That is why I am talking to you at all.” Yuji threw his hands up, his voice cracking as he shouted back. Attempts by his brother to console him were pushed aside and met a shaking head. It had become difficult for the young master to look his father— to look anyone —in the eyes. “I don’t, I don’t know how to feel here. Sometimes I like it, sometimes I don’t. I’m sure if I stay there will be reasons for us to fight, and other reasons to just exist as we have been.”
But, the boy tried. He raised his chin, trembling as it was, forcing his body to steady as he looked out across the pond and unexpectedly met Uraume’s gaze. They had not hidden themselves, standing out on the veranda as they did, nor would they attempt to disappear and pretend they were never there. They couldn’t. Where one had expected anger or determination to supersede all, the attachment that had become apparent went in both directions. What Yuji carried most in his eyes was his own conflict. The consequence of his choice to give this era and his new place within it a chance.
“Wanting to leave… It isn’t easy anymore.”
“Then the outcome is clear.” Their master knew nothing of hesitation. “You will not be leaving.”
“Why can’t you— This is stupid.”
Once again, the attempt to charge forward was made. Yuji did not waver this time. Without previous pause, he closed the distance between himself and his father and halted just before the two would collide. Uraume had expected a brawl to occur. Yuji’s raised shoulders, tightening fists, and even the way he bobbed every so slightly on his feet gave every impression he was prepared to strike, move, and strike again until he was heard. His father observed him with the same assumption, anticipating Yuji’s starting move, only to be caught off guard by the sudden drop in hostility.
Yuji did not extend his arm to punch or jab. No fist would appear when reaching forward, telegraphing every movement as he slowly reached for the hand on his father’s hip and brought it out between them.
“Listen to everything, please. From the beginning. All of what I have gone through. What brought me here. Do all that, and… I will accept whatever you decide after.”
The pair remained in that position longer than expected. Sukuna, though the immediate reaction was there, did not reel back his hand. He refrained from falling into old habits to mock pleading words and the lack of physical ferocity they represented.
Yuji’s willingness to give up his ability to choose his fate if it meant their master’s earnest ear carried much to consider. Whether Sukuna would truly take into account what his son had to say in his decision was something Uraume had trouble deciding. Their master’s greed was unparalleled, but his new considerations for his son had muddled expectations.
What their master replied with drove Uraume to further uncertainty.
“For that honor, I will listen.”
Yuji’s story would not be told out in the cold. Nor would it be told with a wider audience. He had asked for his father, and his father alone, to listen. Thus, the pair turned to the shinden, heading inside after telling their respective observing parties to not disturb them until they were done.
If the wait before had been long enough to spark a bout of impatience, then what came next was excruciatingly grating. Uraume had to leave and wait elsewhere, afraid that they would lose themselves in attempting to hear their exchange should they happen to wander too close in their pacing. Choso did not appear to fare much better, though little could be exchanged in order to confirm that beyond his grumbled thoughts. Yuji had not spoken nearly enough to him about what had happened, nor what was at stake. All he knew was that his little brother was alone with Sukuna and the argument preluding this outcome did not offer confidence in his safety.
The care he held for Yuji, loyalty strong enough to travel worlds in chase of him, was respectable.
“Yuji-sama will be alright.” Uraume had attempted to provide relief, hoping the use of the young master’s name and a look of confidence to portray their meaning even if it was more for themselves than he. He may have understood it, though, the acknowledgment of their comment could simply be out of politeness. They hoped it was the former.
Fortunately, no tremors rippled through the earth nor did the building risk collapse from the sound of voices that knew no limit to their volume. It was all Uraume could think about while mindlessly running a hand down little Sato’s back. The poor pup had avoided most of the confrontation, as if he knew it was not his place to get involved. Yet, like Uraume, he could not help but appear worried.
Eventually, the entrance to the shinden would open.
Not due to collapse under the weight of a body being thrown against it or by an infuriated shove threatening to send both rolling screens off their tracks. The first peek of what had been missed would come from a calm and quiet push. Yet, Uraume still jumped all the same, prompting their quick appearance to the side of whoever came out first.
The young master stepped out with red eyes, and puffy face Uraume could not quite see. His head shook back and forth until he reached his older brother. Nothing was said until his father came out, leading to an unspoken exchange between them before a nod was given and Yuji began to divulge whatever had occurred to Choso.
He did not sound upset. His voice was a bit hoarse and he avoided all manner of shouting, but there was an unmistakable flow that picked up the longer he spoke.
What was the cause of this? What had their master—
“The brat is going to become someone else’s problem.”
“Sukuna-sama…” Uraume leaned back to the one who now stood at their back, avoiding their sinking heart at what should still be great news. It was not what they wished for, but it had not come at the cost of life or property. Yuji had longed for his home since his arrival. The faces he spoke of, the battle he could once again look toward with newfound vigor without one to precede it on these very grounds… This was their master’s decision. Regardless of how he came to it, who were they to want otherwise?
How had they become so entangled around this child’s finger?
“However, since the time between here and his destination is out of sync, full advantage will be taken. A month is less than half a day. Plenty of time to make use of.”
Immediately, Uraume perked up at the news. A full lunar cycle? Was this a condition Sukuna put forth? Before any more questions could flood Uraume’s mind, their master spoke again.
“If you two are to fight my counterpart, you will not be approaching this battle lightly. Thus, our preparations begin tonight.”
Tonight? Before or after their meal?
Did it matter? Uraume would begin working on it while there was still a sliver of daylight somewhere in the sky. Sukuna was right to take advantage of every opportunity presented. This additional time would be made use of to the fullest through whatever support they could provide.
Icing over the sensations of their heart had become habit long ago.
Notes:
The only reason this chapter is a shorter than I wished is because I have another 5k words already written for the next chapter and there are two more scenes left to write and by GOD, I draw the line at posting another chapter over 12k words. XD
Notes:
-Little Sato's decision to start backing Yuji up in his anger against Choso (Regardless of whether the anger was genuine) was something my late dog would do. Q.Q The unwavering loyalty is very endearing.
-Writing Choso's presence within this fic through Uraume's POV is quite a challenge because there are so many dialogue exchanges I have written that I CAN'T use because it's between Yuji and Choso speaking modern Japanese. It's purposeful, leaving the audience to read between the lines and pick out what they are speaking of, while relying on Yuji's translations or Uraume's assumptions to fill in the rest. I do hope to avoid Choso becoming a prop rather than a character, so I hope his small moments of action and expression can make up for it. I have a small scene regarding him for next chapter, but since he isn't a primary character here, it won't be nearly as much as I prefer to write.
-Uraume has so much confidence in Yuji, only for him to tell Choso point-blank "So, Sukuna is my dad..." and leaving him tripping over the news. >.>
-Also, not Sukuna seeing Choso hiss out in anger, be reminded of Yuji's initial behavior and go "Ah yes, another one of Kenjaku's feral children. I see it so clearly."
-And then Yuji calls back to last chapter with a "I should be keeping my eyes on you!" I didn't want him to get into a fight with Sukuna over morality at this time, since both are trying to co-exist and other things are happening. I also didn't want to turn Sukuna immediately soft/willing to hear everyone out and think-twice about murder all the time now. He still defaults to usual tendencies, but Yuji makes him reconsider just a teeny bit.
-The method of time travel has been revealed! I spent a lot of time considering and reconsidering how Yuji got back to the past. Honestly, I don't think any method would 100% satisfy me, but calling back to the Three-way domain expansion we never got to see but with Yuji's incomplete domain and probably Yuta involved once more for irony was something that I felt could work while avoiding the simple and obvious "A cursed spirit did it." A lot of you were right in seeing Choso's appearance as a sign that the life Yuji was falling into accepting was about to be uprooted. And I take a lot of pride in seeing the many different comments over the chapters debating whether Yuji should stay or go. I feel like I've done my job making these versions of Uraume and Sukuna worth rooting for and thus making Yuji's impending departure all the more heartbreaking. Will it be permanent? :3
-The latter half of Yuji and Sukuna's conversation was purposefully left out as well. I did write it out a few times, especially in my early outlines, but I just couldn't justify something that intimate being listened in on. It's too heavy and emotional for Yuji to be breaking up the flow with translating for Choso and since I have Uraume present in other moments, I am leaving them out of this one.
That being said, Uraume's reaction at the end... I have much more to say on their overall arc next chapter when its more applicable.
-Overall, the structure of this chapter is a little weird to me, but once the next chapter is posted, I think the overall flow from chapters 13 to 14 to 15 will benefit. Next chapter is a preparation/training arc, kind of? Probably. It's the usual collection of scenes to denote the passing of time, and I am very emotional regarding the last one. More answers to burning questions will come, so stay tuned!Thank you all so much for reading! <3 See you all real soon, promise this time ;) so take care until then!
Chapter 15: We Will See If My Son Can Make Do On His Promise
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“Strategizing against oneself is an endeavor to point out potential flaws to overcome. I never thought I would be earnestly working with others to do just that, so you will both be grateful that I am here to provide such priceless insight.”
Sukuna’s bellowed laugh echoed through the kitchen, a sound only Yuji would hesitantly repeat while his brother crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. They shared an attitude as well, though it appeared less often in the elder brother, who appeared to hover around with a mild expression until something warranted an extreme reaction.
The discussion of sorting through all factors to determine how to use the next month to train had ended up taking place in the kitchen of all places, in the raised section of flooring with tatami laid out to provide some means of comfort and cleanliness. Uraume’s personal alcove was far from messy and disorganized. The stone floor, however, where the act of cooking took place after preparation, was not suitable for anyone to sit on.
It would seem that Uraume’s mixed response toward the news of the young master’s departure had not gone unnoticed despite their efforts. Perhaps it was the lack of reaction that spoke greater volumes, but nonetheless, their master would eventually poke his head into their kitchen and simply sit nearby without the need to say more. They drank in each other’s company along with the sake Uraume instinctually poured. When it came time to take dinner preparation more seriously, Yuji had somehow been summoned to assist.
His appearance was a bit awkward. He did not know if there was something he should say or do to make whatever wrong he felt right, leading Uraume to welcome him more overtly by placing the necessary ingredients and utensils out for the boy to begin lending a hand. Choso naturally followed along, less confident and reliant on Yuji to give instructions. Mindless conversation soon filled the air. The young master translated as necessary. All of it a distraction until it came time to eat and by then, no one had the desire to move.
Thus, they began their talks around a low, rectangular table in the nearby room. One of many pieces of furniture that had been moved for practicality and convenience rather than to collect dust in a place neither master nor servant stepped foot in. This was when little Sato snuck his way in, hiding under the table by Yuji's knees in the hopes of food 'accidentally' ending up on the floor.
Out of everyone, Sukuna had been the first to speak, benefitting from his second mouth’s ability to snatch food while he used the opportunity to steer their discussion toward each subject that needed to be addressed.
“This will be worth the mental exercise.” Sukuna may not be participating directly in the battle. Still, learning of what counters may be devised against him only made him that much more capable of countering similar instances to come. “As far as you are aware, there has been no change in my counterpart’s choice of vessel?”
His question was more directed to Choso. While the difference in time between Yuji’s disappearance and Choso’s leap after him appeared trivial, a lot could take place within a day’s time.
The brothers looked at one another, exchanged a thought each, and nodded. Choso would answer for himself, as a one-word affirmation was not difficult to grasp.
“Yes.”
“And he has yet to truly incarnate?”
“Yes?” Yuji spoke up this time, a bit confused if he understood his father’s meaning. Elaboration would follow to assist.
“Per Kanjaku’s rambling, the vessel one awakens in is a stepping stone to restoring one’s original form. With your assertion of control, my counterpart's proper incarnation was put on hold. Your being had not been reshaped entirely. If your friend is the same, he must be holding off for a reason. Whether it is to make use of Cursed Techniques that may be lost once the body is altered or as a last resort should too much damage be incurred are assumptions and nothing more.”
Cursed Techniques were carved into the physical body. A soul taking root in another’s form may leave an imprint, such as the case with Yuji, or it could react with pre-existing techniques in new and possibly volatile ways. The only one who would know for sure was Kenjaku, and even then, his method of transferring from one body to the next was not the same as what was being discussed here and now. No one held an inkling of desire to invite that cretin to join a direct act of defiance of his own counterpart, considering his involvement in the other Sukuna’s incarnation. Therefore, they would rely on their own speculation and leave it at that.
“A second phase.”
It was now their master’s turn to look at his son in confusion.
“It’s a… trope in storytelling. I see it in games, where the big battle has more than one part. A fake victory as a way to keep raising the… It’s not important to this. The other Sukuna is still in Megumi’s body the same way he was in mine.”
Yuji would not be chastised for his tangent. Instead, his father took what was relevant and applied it to his pre-existing line of thought.
“If he has full use of the Ten Shadows and Shrine, the best you can hope for is that the clash between your Gojo and he results in detrimental consequences. True incarnation could undo some of it as a trade-off for giving up other abilities within his arsenal. Accounting for all outcomes is taxing, but required.”
If the body is altered beyond recognition, what would remain of the original host?
“My friends, allies, have a plan. A lot of plans.” Yuji bit down on his chopsticks and mumbled, “And a few more I don’t know about...”
“Plans you have yet to be made aware of, or were you intentionally left in the dark?” Sukuna did not react well to news of information being withheld. It was antithetical to their goals, creating more complications than necessary. Worse still, they were not in a position to immediately rectify the issue.
“Some things are being kept from me to avoid leaking information to your counterpart. We’re connected. Like you said, I was created from you. Our souls were… We didn’t know if anything could be shared.”
“I doubt it.” The conclusion their master came to was a sudden, bolstered in confidence his son could not match in a stuttering attempt to counter it. “I feel the connection you speak of, but nothing comes of it beyond assurance of our relation. If I could have learned your thoughts and history through it, these last few months would have been far easier.”
That was an understatement. And if the connection had gone both ways, layers of miscommunication could have been peeled away even if their conflict of morals and personal interest were still likely to persist. The mental burden that could have never been… No use lamenting over it now.
“You and he are not the same.” It was a mantra Yuji repeated often, assuring himself of his decision to place his trust in his father. He spoke his decision to Choso first, gaining his approval to go ahead and declare it with the rest of the table. “I will share whatever we need to make the most of this chance. No more.”
“Start with your fingers.” The refusal to recover one when the possibility presented itself had remained a constant curiosity in Sukuna’s mind. Uraume recalled the young master’s previous answer to Tengen regarding his absence and fairness. “The smallest one you are missing was the result of my counterpart's change in vessels. But the second?”
Yuji moved to grasp the space where his fingers would have been. He could not help it when attention was brought to it. The memory ono finger brought insurmountable shame, the other, faith.
“The other was for my senpai. My senior, his Cursed Technique allows him to copy other techniques. If I heal it, he loses what he gained from me.” After being separated in another time and place, Yuji believed the bond formed from that technique held strong. As for the technique he was after, considering that other Kamos were present, the only other inherent technique would be Shrine. For another to use it, to be permitted to connect and understand it… If it weren’t for the purpose of aiding their battle, their master would have shown more displeasure on his face.
Yuji moved on to speak of a few others. He does not offer names or descriptions, just examples of their abilities and the order in which they were going to be made of use. A man who is convinced his cursed technique would be Sukuna’s end in one hit. Another who could potentially confiscate the cursed techniques. And a senior classmate, bound by heavenly restriction, leaving her devoid of cursed energy altogether. That one had piqued some interest. Fighting a sorcerer, the most notable in all their history, with the strength earned by casting all cursed energy aside… What school of combat would prevail?
Any gaps in the boy’s knowledge were filled when required, minor details had been lost overtime. Sukuna was patient in listening through Yuji’s repeated thoughts for his brother, using the time to think further about what he had been given thus far to keep the flow of their progress continuous. Despite Yuji’s insistence that his sensei could win the fight against his counterpart, he and his allies had planned thoroughly for his defeat. The task of victory once the self-fulfilled prophecy took root would befall them next.
If these sorcerers of the modern era were truly enough to challenge Sukuna, then there was envy to be found. A new wave of proclaimed champions varied in all forms of combat. This was a glimpse of what Kenjaku had to offer him. Ironically, Kenjaku’s life was also being targeted during the clash with Sukuna’s counterpart. While it had pained them to learn that Kenjaku had gone on to survive a century beyond this era, the news of his impending end was a fulfilling one.
Even Uraume’s counterpart had been accounted for in all this madness. The plan involved sending another one of his senior classmates to stall and keep them from joining the battle at their master’s side. First came amusement worth stifling a chuckle over, then mild offense came at the thought of sending only one to challenge their counterpart. The more significant threat was obvious, but Uraume was powerful in their own right. Yuji was not the only one to experience their master’s direct tutelage. Who exactly was this boy? Interest prevailed, leading to the making of a mental note to pull the young master aside and find out more later.
“All of this preparation for combat, but what of enduring Malevolent Shrine?”
An overlooked, tide-turning piece. Expanding one’s domain was not simply a trump card to pull last-minute, but a move that could happen at any time. When both opponents possess the ability to end a battle in one swift motion, the only thing keeping them from doing so is the fleeting morbid entertainment of it all.
“The subject of domains between us is long overdue. You have admitted to being able to call your innate domain forth, but it is incomplete.”
“Domains—Gojo-sensei said that being able to do a Domain Expansion isn’t as common as it is in this era. Domains from my time are different, focused on trapping someone inside and taking them down in one hit. I don’t think mine is like that, but I also haven’t been able to figure out its shape.” Yuji pushed his empty bowl aside, giving himself space to place his crossed arms on the table. “Or anything beyond copying what you had done with your blades, and it didn’t feel right.”
Unfortunately, copying another beat for beat was not the key to truly manifesting the domain within one’s core. Domain Expansions are inherently personal and individualized in both appearance and specific function. Two users of the same Cursed Technique will vary in interpretation, active binding vows, and so much more.
“At this rate, you will not survive another domain clash. Especially not with my counterpart. There is not enough time, even with your impressive learning curve, to sort out fundamentals that are inherently intrinsic to yourself. An incomplete domain can still be useful, but not as an opposing force to another more well defined.”
The latter remark on his hasty development was insufficient to keep Yuji’s dejection from worsening. Yet, Sukuna spoke only the truth. He and his counterpart carried far too many years of experience that could not be made light of under any circumstances.
“Additionally, my own ability to alter and adapt the parameters of Malevolent Shrin is vast. The right binding vows can accomplish incredible things in a harrowingly short amount of time. I assume the conclusion your allies came to was to engage in a relentless strike, then endure and counter when able should fleeing fail, but the methods you all employ will have to vary just as much. Your allies are not the first group of sorcerers to challenge me or my counterpart at the same time. Overwhelming only works if each hit gains more than simple damage. A timed Black Flash can accomplish this in the absence of more specific Cursed Techniques, but the phenomenon is accessible to everyone. Should my counterpart accomplish one, whatever accomplishments you make could very well be undone.”
“I just have to land more than he does.”
Their master raised an eyebrow, entertained by the boy’s immediate insistence that he would do just that. His Black Flash record showed precedence for the capability of pulling it off. Not being able to witness the event with their own eyes was less than ideal, but knowing the battle against their master’s counterpart may facilitate it brought about a delicious sense of catharsis.
“You have not shared your concern regarding Fushiguro Megumi’s fate. What is your plan to ‘save’ him? Knowing you, mercy in death is not the goal.”
“I will aim for the boundary between his soul and your counterpart’s and tear them apart. If I can reach him this way… It’s his choice if he wants to fight back and live. I just want him to know that I… I won’t stop trying until he tells me to stop. I miss him.” It was not a call to action, but a final moment to absolve himself of further regret should Megumi choose otherwise. The approach was strange, but made in conjunction with Yuji’s own history, something Uraume has witnessed firsthand in the boy’s prior belief in wishing for his own demise.
“What occurs if he chooses to live?”
“Then he will fight back from the inside. I’ve seen him do it before.”
An intriguing thought. It stood to reason that if one vessel could overcome their master’s counterpart by sheer force of will, another could if the same determination was fostered. The loss of Megumi’s sister to another incarnated sorcerer was a possible contributing factor as to why he wasn’t actively fighting back now. There was no telling the likelihood of success in Yuji’s plan, but if anyone could bring about change in another… It would be him.
“We have done enough physical training between us. Hand-to-hand combat against myself is something you have grown familiar with. What we will focus on is further developing Shrine while your brother allows me a frame of reference for your Blood Manipulation. You have yet to make consistent use of Cleave. This will all come after a reassessment of your Reverse Cursed Technique and that trick—”
“—Simple Domain.” Yuji finally clarified. “It’s not an Innate Domain, and it’s supposed to be some kind of secret? But I was shown how to use it in the hopes of withstanding one. That… was the plan to deal with yours. I haven’t had enough practice to feel confident in it. Even when I used it against you, your Cursed Technique still got through.”
There would have been time allotted to its practice if the boy had shared it sooner. That was the thought going through their master’s head, as the lengths he had to wait to be told the purpose of the Cursed Technique and its eventual inner workings infuriated him to no end.
But Sukuna would let it go.
The boy’s reveal had sparked the perfect plan to develop it further.
“There is an open field beyond the treeline, just far away enough from the estate to avoid unnecessary destruction. I will summon my domain there, and you both will find means to endure it.” His son's easygoing attitude faltered at the suggestion. Horror threatened to pale his face, haunted by the ghost of what their master’s Domain Expansion was capable of. Even Uraume thought the method to be a bit extreme, but it was those split seconds between life and death that were invaluable to making strides when other methods refused to produce adequate results. “Do not think that I will go easy on you now because my goal is to prepare you for battle. If you fail to take this seriously and slack off, the damage you may endure will be everlasting.”
“Father is… trying to kill me. For… leaving!”
Yuji screeched out from the ground, his wounds in the midst of healing as positive energy flooded his system. The erratic rise and fall of his chest was the direct result of his overtaxed lunges gasping for air between words that stood in direct opposition. The Reverse Cursed Technique was taxing to use when one wasn’t used to it, and in that same vein, using it too much over and over after multiple sessions of training would naturally eat through both cursed energy and physical endurance alike.
But Yuji was not one to give up. To his detriment, the boy would move about the moment a flicker of hope rushed through his veins. Feet kicked about in the air. Hands throttled an invisible neck. All this occurred while his lungs continued to tear from his impressive and partially incomprehensible rant on the topic of just how many curses he could spew in his father’s direction.
“I’m going to kill him! I will— ” Yuji’s own throat cut him off as airways collapsed under a series of horrid coughs. “— I swear I’ll do it right now!”
“You could hardly kill a fly in that state.” His father sat across their temporary battlefield, claiming a spared boulder for a seat, legs crossed and head down in contemplation. “Prove to me you are worth issuing such a challenge, and then I may humor another round. Until then, recover entirely. On your own.”
A glance was cast in Uraume’s direction, a silent warning not to allow their sympathy to make rash decisions. Easing the boy’s pain during these harsh back-to-back lessons once in a while was not too detrimental. However, the purpose of Sukuna’s insistence after their recent spar was to jumpstart both Yuji’s reaction time and thoroughness when injuries did occur.
To the boy’s right, Choso fared no better. Sukuna held back less and less each time either brother showed progress. At times, favoritism would show toward his son. Or, it may be more accurate to say that a grudge toward Choso had become less hidden. The reason, Uraume had concluded, was that the elder brother was yet another presence vying for Yuji’s time and attention at the conclusion of each day. An inseparable bodyguard, weathering every storm their master threw at them to ensure that his brother would survive and begin again with reignited vigor.
What were their master’s words? The brat had two mutts making his quarters their own, was it?
Uraume wasn’t the most keen on that description, but their original suspicion toward him had waned. The elder brother vowed to keep the younger one safe. His protection was not offered due to his belief that the young master was incapable. It was simply a matter of duty, as family, though when questioned on it, Choso would make it very clear that Kenjaku was not considered as such.
That alone had earned Choso a bit of grace within the household.
“I’m not joking about…” Yuji took in a large breath of air. “...dying, you know.”
“You are far from dying.” Sukuna shook his head, refusing to argue with the boy further. “You are sustaining fewer injuries overall, but there seems to be a limit regarding how much of my attack you can weaken before contact. Both of you possess bodies more durable than the average sorcerer, but that does not mean you can solely rely on that to avoid proper defense when dodging isn’t enough.”
In slow, hasty bursts, Yuji attempted to relay his father’s words to his brother. His tone, however, was far more mocking. Such provocation would not go unnoticed.
“You will be surpassing this limit tomorrow morning. For now, keep licking your wounds.”
With that, Sukuna left the brothers lying in the snow as he departed for the estate. Physical combat ceased for the day. The area was safe to enter without catching stray fists, blades, or shots of half-frozen blood, signaling for Sato to jump down from his rocky perch further away, where he and Uraume sat to observe them. Seconds later, Uraume caught the sound of Yuji sputtering, laughing, and then coughing. It seemed the pup had found what he had been looking for and decided the best way to show his affection was with his tongue.
“Thanks, Sato.” Yuji responded dryly, still mustering enough energy to scratch the pup’s head in return.
Looking at the three, Uraume could not help but find themselves in awe at how deep the elder brother’s loyalty went. It was a rare sight, including the times they caught their reflection in the estate’s pond or a nicely polished piece of bronze. Choso trusted Yuji completely, leaning on him to explain everything accurately while going along with every desire, even if that desire was currently putting them through such tortuous trials.
Was this what having a sibling was like? Uraume found themselves incapable of answering that on their own, being an only child during their upbringing. Their master made no mention of siblings either, save for an anecdote about consuming his potential twin in the womb. What lonely children they had been. Even Yuji, who had been raised by his grandfather, had spent so much time… Wait. The timeline of the young master’s early years that they had mentally constructed appears to be contradictory.
“Yuji-sama,” Uraume called out to the boy in question, following the path little Sato had laid out for them to eventually stand over him to carry out the following inquiry. “You mentioned being quite lonely as a child, yet your brother hardly leaves your side. Was Choso, the first of your siblings, not present when you were in your grandfather’s care?”
“Where did this come from?” Yuji grunted as he found the strength to curl forward, wincing at the pain his muscles endured as he lifted himself off the ground. His initial confusion did not stop him from answering Uraume’s question. “Uh, no, Choso wasn’t there. He, uh… it is kind of complicated. My older brother wasn’t incarnated into a body until… two months ago our time. I think. And we didn’t meet until a month later.”
Incarnated?
“Choso is a lot older than I realized.”
“He’s from…” A quick mental calculation was done in his head, though it did not appear that Yuji was satisfied with his own answer. “The Edo or Meiji period. He is over a century older than me.”
“And you only met recently.”
“For me, it is not as recent now.” An attempt was made to stretch out his arms, breathing relief every time he avoided the discovery of something bruised or broken. Choso had asked him something, gesturing toward Uraume; thus, it had to be about what topic they were engaged in. “But, that is correct. We didn’t know we were related at first. Kenjaku left that part out when awakening Choso, and we almost killed each other before this guy sensed our connection.”
They almost killed each other… Probably some sick form of entertainment Kenjaku would justify as collecting data between experiments. Uraume could only imagine how much deeper the complications of their story were. Choso’s origin was likely shrouded in depravity and whatever twisted machinations go through that overly pickled brain of his. Their connection regarding Blood Manipulation and the Kamo clan as a whole led Uraume to believe that there was also a thread involving Choso as part of a precursor experiment in creating more durable vessels, but there was not enough evidence to back that claim up. Nor would they pry for it. The less they had to discover about that mad creature’s research, the better.
“Of course, it was Kenjaku’s fault.” Uraume closed their eyes, grumbling over their building desire to see that brain skewered and roasted over a fire. A short blade of ice formed in their hand. To act out their anger, Uraume turned to the brothers while eyeing Choso in particular and hovered the blade over their neck to ensure their message got across with or without Yuji’s help. “You have my endorsement to commit matricide the moment that gossip dares to cross the gates of this estate again. Aim between the eyes and do not dare consider hesitating.”
Choso appeared to understand, nodding as he spoke something in response that ate away at Yuji’s initial amusement toward Uraume’s unrepentant bloodthirst.
“He said that he won’t hesitate again.” The young master’s eyes trailed on him as he continued to translate. “We both lost more than just our family. He won’t let him take away anyone else.”
Acknowledging the intensity of his brother’s gaze and the resolve in his vow, Uraume bowed their head in agreement.
“Neither will I.”
It was rare for the sun to rise, and the grunts of combat did not immediately follow. So rare, in fact, that Uraume found themselves in search of the missing father and son pair who had left Choso at the estate’s gate for their arrival. Another day trip searching for new arenas to train within should have already commenced. If it wasn’t for the high concentrations of cursed energy within the main house, Uraume would have been led to believe that the pair had left without him. Choso’s lack of urgency to find them had further pushed Uraume’s curiosity to get the better of them, which was why they were standing outside the shinden’s inner sanctum.
Too close to walk away but just far enough to prompt their feet to step just a tad closer, making them no better than the young master for listening in on what was taking place within.
“I believe these are yours.”
Uraume caught the brief sight of what their master held in his hands. A pair of peculiar gloves, monstrous in nature and harboring cursed energy within, thus dubbing it a cursed tool, and they were the only item not returned to the boy after the initial investigation of his things had concluded.
“I was wondering where you put them,” Yuji spoke with a bit of a delay and a sense of awe. If not for the fact that Sukuna was being considerate enough to return them, then it was surely a consequence of the distraction that came from looking around his father’s treasures. “These were… They were a gift from Okkotsu-senpai to hide my missing fingers. I’m glad that I can return them. They’re cool, right?”
“Cool?”
As in temperature?
“Uh, neat?”
As in tidy?
Uraume did not need to hear their master’s shaking head to picture it. Whatever Yuji was attempting to express, it was positive. He showed a preference for them, something his father may have chastised if there hadn’t been something else on his mind.
“You are going to learn how to use this.” A hefty whoosh followed Sukuna’s declaration, then came the clang of metal pressing into the wooden boards beneath their feet. Uraume’s eyes widened at suspicions they could not risk confirming.
“Why?”
“Because you will be taking Hiten with you.”
Hiten. There were two weapons among dozens that their master had collected over the years that he rarely made use of. Shrine was a fine-tuned blade in its own right, but there were some cursed tools that offered additional flexibility and an unknown element should his combatants be unaware of them. Kamutoke, a single-bladed vajra, stole lightning from the heavens. And Hiten—
“Oh.”
“This trishula disperses negative energy. At the tip of its blade, all cursed energy within its target is forcibly dispersed, dragging more erratic and volatile elements to take its place. For there to be an edge in your battle my counterpart truly could not fathom, it would be this.”
“OH!” Yuji repeated himself, jumping back as the weight of his father’s gesture became understood. “You’re… Serious. Really serious. Not joking. Why aren't you joking?”
This was not a time for jokes. To speak of his weapons, his longest companions, so lightly would dishonor them.
“My presence in your time is unwanted. It may worsen your chances at victory by causing avoidable complications and distractions.” Was that why Sukuna made no mention of following the boy thus far? A dance of footsteps came next. His father’s approach against Yuji’s attempt to stabilize himself as it sounded like Hiten was thrust into his hands. “This is your battle. Make use of all you have at your disposal, just as he does. I refuse to let you reject this offer.”
If his father could not go, then his weapon would fight at Yuji’s side. The loudest claim he could make without having to utter a single word.
“I… I know, I heard what you said—” Yuji’s weight shifted a bit as he raised Hiten up and down, hesitantly testing poses to experience how his strength offsets possible encumbrance due to its size. “Is it really ok?”
If to question the gesture as if he’d suddenly become deaf, then it was a reference to the cursed energy crackling about his fingertips.
“If Hiten did not wish for you to wield it, you would not be holding it now.” Suddenly, the scatter of wild cursed energy came to a halt. Was it by his father’s word alone, or perhaps a hand placed by his son’s to steady the blade? “A fickle, demanding thing. Much like you.”
Yuji huffed, then let out a slow, sarcastic laugh. He would not, however, leave without expressing his gratitude.
“Thank you, Father.”
“You will be returning it once the battle is over.”
Returning it?
“What if I… What if it breaks?”
Break Hiten? Uraume could not fathom the event transpiring.
“Then you will bring back every piece and beg for forgiveness.” That was undoubtedly a threat. “Begin testing Hiten’s weight in your palms where you have more room to move around. Do not invoke its power; simply get used to this extension of yourself, and I will meet you out in the courtyard shortly. We will be bringing Hiten along with us today.”
Yuji likely gave some gesture of affirmation before darting past Uraume without a second thought, gripping Hiten a bit too tight and with far more care than they had ever witnessed their master give the trishula. The sight was almost adorable and quite distracting to the point that Uraume had almost forgotten the odd condition their master had placed on his son when gifting his weapon.
“Yuji-sama… is to come back?”
“I was not to make mention of it per the brat’s request, but now that the damage has already been done.”
Uraume came dangerously close to letting out a yelp at their master’s voice just behind their ear. Their own muttering and lack of scarcity had revealed themselves to be listening. At this rate, they were truly no better than the young master himself. Worse even, considering Sukuna must have known they were there.
“He does not want his brother to know and fears the Kamo spawn will learn enough of our language to catch on. But, that one appears to be good at reading faces. I am sure he has already picked up on it.”
Ah. That made sense. Yuji had a poor habit of taking on more guilt than he deserved. And with an elder brother as vigilant as Choso, any degree of recently developed guilt to pile on the previous mountain would be caught. Whether Choso would call Yuji out on it, Uraume did not know enough to make an accurate prediction. Was it wrong to feel joy? To know how much the loss of Yuji's home and what will remain of his allies will effect the boy? Surely, he was aware of all this when arguing with his father for the right to return at all.
No wonder their master was not more apprehensive regarding all of this.
“You have become more expressive lately. Even when you stand still, your eyes speak volumes.”
Uraume grew a bit flustered, as they had not expected their master to be observing them long enough to tell the difference. Then again, this was Sukuna they were referring to; he was capable of discerning such things.
“It is possible, then, to travel between our worlds over and over?” The difference in how time flowed would be tricky, but should Yuji wish, or any of the desire, the option to exist in each other’s worlds was there.
“The brat assured me the method should be possible to replicate, if not by the one who made it possible for his brother to follow, then through the vow we made to override all else. As I have stated before, the universe will bow to this.” Such command often left Uraume speechless. Their master believed in his ability to shape the universe, and Uraume possessed no reason to doubt him. “However, there will be no additional trips after. He carries the fear of what impact each trip through the veil between our worlds may cause. He will not risk more than what has already been determined. Tengen’s words were pervasive enough for him to be mindful of that.”
That last comment brought about a growl. Where his father would demand deference from the universe, Yuji acted in mind of it. Confidence versus caution, yet when it was their master’s nature to mock the latter, he had chosen to follow it at Yuji’s request.
“You do not plan to follow him.”
“Mark my words, if the brat fails to return in ample time, I shall tear my through to learn of what happened. If the task of cutting down my counterpart should befall me… But, beyond that, should I go with him now? There are many unknowns to which my presence adds. I would be noticed on all sides, and the game would change.” Sukuna crossed his upper set of arms in mild frustration. He did not seethe over it, choosing to let the feeling go as he looked off to where his son had disappeared. “The battle between Yuji and my counterpart is theirs, not mine. I am driven by my own greed, and so is he. As much as it pains me to say it, I will not interfere.”
“You, denying yourself a battle unique to this lifetime?” Uraume was taken aback by their master’s decision. Then, the urge to lightly tease appeared, considering how deeply rooted his affection and even his respect for his son had become. “Who are you? What have you done with my master?”
“Are you trying to be funny?” Their rash decision led to two hands on Uraume’s hips and the sudden realization that their feet were no longer on the ground.
“I am trying to make sense of you.” Their master was kind enough to permit Uraume a moment to adjust themselves in his hold as he left the shinden with his most loyal in tow. Uraume had planned to observe their training once again, but to be carried to the place in question was not something they had prepared for. “What I have seen… It is not a bad thing.”
Their master pestered Yuji to wear something decent to make his way home in, though the two would clash about what that meant. He had plenty of robes and formal wear to choose from. Hallmarks of his title and rank, none that would be appreciated save for the select few Sukuna had in mind to view them. Technically, the presence of Hiten carried casually over his shoulder would be enough to elicit a similar reaction. It was not exactly the same, but it was close enough for Yuji to squirm his way out of traditional garbs and end up back in the old school uniform he had demanded to wear since the beginning.
He would not admit that his clothes felt tight enough to tug at. Nor were they itchy or in need of consistent readjustment as they followed Choso’s general sense of where their destination lay. Even the hooded garment struggled to remain entirely on his head without being poked at, leading to his father yanking it off when the boy’s antics got the better of him.
It was of little surprise that the rift was within the vicinity of where Uraume discovered Yuji passed out on the side of the road over a season prior. Deeper in the woods, further out of the layman’s reach, what appeared to be nothing more than an innocuous clearing revealed its true nature the moment Choso led them further in.
The air buzzed with an unnatural hum. People and objects alike were cast in a faint, white glow from an unseen source that grew in intensity with each step the pair of brothers took. Something within them resonated with the energy of this place. Energy that Uraume would come to realize to be the remnants of what cursed energy had clung to Choso from his prior trip through this invisible veil. The talisman he carried only further bolstered the effect. Cracks of light formed on the ground, crawling up the nearby trees and reaching out for those standing witness until a sizable rift had formed. Its growth would reach a limit, stabilized by the Six Eye’s intervention on the other side.
This stabilized rift in time and space… was a recent development from their perspective. Months of inactivity compared to mere hours on the other side. If Uraume accompanied their master in investigating this area beyond the cursory glance that had been done, would the tear have been found? If Yuji had been permitted more freedom, would he have sensed a call to his home? Would he have been able to tear through the boundaries of their worlds once more without a second thought, leaving the pair to search for a boy that no longer existed?
Had Tengen searched the area during her visit?
Uraume could not get the possibility out of their mind, yet all it did was spur too many questions, and few, if any, would be answered. No matter, there was a time and place for such inquiries, and now, it was not one of them.
“This is where we have to go different ways for a while. You can’t go with me. It’s not safe.” Yuji glanced down at the little wolf standing eagerly at his side. His wagging tail and panting were too much to ignore, leaving the boy no choice but to plant Hiten in the ground as he squatted down to Sato’s level and gave a proper goodbye. “Sato, you are a very good boy. Help Uraume-san whenever they need it. And don’t let my father bully you. We both know you’ve grown on him.”
He then leaned in a bit closer with a hand cupped over his mouth to whisper quite loudly one more thing.
“But it's a secret. You can’t tell anyone.”
Little Sato’s perfectly timed yip in agreement got more than a few chuckles out of the boy at his father’s expense. The huff that came out of Sukuna’s direction did their master no favors, only compounding Yuji’s amusement until he eventually climbed back onto his feet and steadied himself. He was far from done with saying his goodbyes.
Attention turned to Uraume next. It was not entirely surprising; instead, it was something unexpected as they were used to being their master’s loyal shadow and rarely the center of focus. But this was Yuji, who had to be like his father. He considered Uraume’s presence and their actions regardless of the reasoning, seeing all that they had done as something worth showing gratitude for.
“Uraume-san, thank you for teaching me, cooking with me, and being so kind. Sukuna is very lucky to have someone so amazing, and I—” The rest of the sentence remained trapped in his throat, left behind when all he wished to do was throw his arms around Uraume and hold them as tight as he comfortably could. The lack of warning caused Uraume to freeze. But the boy’s warmth soon overwhelmed them, melting away any reservations that would keep them from returning the gesture ten-fold. “Be sure to rest and take care of yourself once in a while. Don’t stay up at night all worried about me!”
Oh, young master…
“I will attempt the impossible.” The moment Yuji’s grip faltered, Uraume took the opportunity to gain enough freedom to cup the young master’s— their young master’s —cheeks. Truly, the most horrid of curses was behind the movement in their heart that took everything to quell. “Young master, it has been a delight to get to know you. I weep for the version of me who could not experience such a gift.”
“Stop! You’re going to make me cry. I can’t cry now. If I start, I won’t...” Yuji rubbed his eyes red with his sleeves, vehemently pouting between breaths as he worked himself down from a place he would not immediately recover from.
There was still one more person in need of being addressed. One person who had been more than patient as Yuji worked his way toward him with a dangerous glint of determination in his eye. And what was Yuji met with?
“Have no fear; I will be sleeping quite soundly without the ever-present trouble you bring.”
“Good. I was so worried.” Yuji’s sarcastic response to his father’s tease could not have been more apparent. It would not stop the two from taking the exchange seriously in their own way. “I never thought I would ever call you my father. Or that it would start to feel… not exactly right, but close. I’m not done here— We’re not done here. I told you, I am going to prove you wrong about what way the world has to be. I will defeat your counterpart, and then I will come back and kick your ass if I don’t like what I find out about anything you get up to while I am gone.”
“Your boldness continues to astound.” Sukuna appeared to come off as vexed by the blatant disrespect, but in truth, the boy’s threat was a cause of delight. The fire behind him burned brighter than ever. What was to come of this flame once given a battlefield to burn was worth anticipating. “Earn the right to challenge me, and then we will see if my son can make do with his promise.”
Yuji presented Sukuna with a wide smile. He then spun around with exaggerated flare, a hand waving the air while the other reached out for Hiten on his way to his brother’s side.
“I’ll be sure to bring back a souvenir. A gift from my own travels.”
He took liberty in his brother’s limited knowledge of what he was saying, but as their master said, Choso must know the truth of their vow by now. There was an unmistakable pain in his eyes, but his silence… Uraume had no doubt it would be kept as long as his brother wished for it. At least Sukuna and Uraume’s loss of him, while still excruciating, was expected to be temporary. For those who survive the aftermath of their war, they will have to spend the rest of their lives enduring his absence.
Just as the pair took their places, guided by his brother’s instructions, Yuji decided that there was one last thing he had to do. The boy raised a curled fist in his father’s direction. The position was held for a short moment, followed by the extension of his centermost finger and a smirk overtaking his face. And how did their master reciprocate? By performing the same hand gesture in kind.
Uraume shook their head, yet found it impossible to frown at the sight of that awful gesture becoming a show of endearment.
“Farewell!”
Choso muttered a comprehensible word. In the blink of an eye, he and their young master were gone. The rift stood for only a moment longer, teasing the opportunity to follow, before evidence of the rift they had torn open anew vanished with them. Save for an echo etched into the earth. Meek, almost untraceable, it took a keen eye to grasp where the seams of their realities had not entirely closed.
The first to move was the wolf pup. Little Sato dashed forward, head turning back and forth, unable to decide whether to use his eyes or keep his nose to the ground to uncover any trace of where his master had gone. Desperate whines filled the air, confused and distressed, causing Uraume’s attempt at stoicism to break. They could not bear the sight, and their legs gave way underneath them, causing the pup to rush over to figure out what was wrong.
All Uraume could do was hold themselves tight. Little Sato’s nose would eventually shove its way between their arms, his paws dirtying their robes. It was not until Uraume felt Sukuna’s hand on their shoulder that their mind broke free from the sudden trance. Their automatic response to the pup’s intrusion was to brush through his fur and placate the poor beast while their mouth fought to find the words lost in the wind.
“Sukuna-sama…” Uraume swallowed their embarrassment, forcing themselves to breathe in proper rhythm. “Forgive me. I find myself overwhelmed.”
“We will leave when you are ready.”
Somehow, those were the words that had finally made Uraume cry.
Notes:
My lack of patience will be the death of me. SURPRISE IMMEDIATE UPDATE! <3
Notes:
-The relatively quiet beginning with everyone just existing together in the kitchen just felt right. I appreciate scenes where very little needs to be said between the characters, and this just represented how over time, this simple place was shared between all three of our leads and now Choso has been added into the mix.
-Having Sukuna be a part of the discussion to take down another version of himself was just fun conceptually. I got to explore some fun concepts and discussions involving all manner of abilities and cursed energy and the use of different techniques (something I've gone throughout the fic as a whole!) which makes it all feel cohesive and an extension of where we broke off from canon.
-Sukuna has the potential to be a great teacher. We've already seen it before, though his mindset of "Throw the child into the pool, and they will learn not to drown" doesn't exactly make the kid react positively XD Poor Yuji is going through several Domain Expansions all tweaking not to kill him outright just to survive. Is this me setting up the means for him to defend himself in the final battle so that I don't have to relive losing a certain someone... Yes. Yes it is.
-Choso and his siblings being precursors to Yuji's creation / being a result of Kenjaku's weird train of thought involving multiple parents-sources of cursed energy and ability going into one child is a personal HC of mine. I kind of wish we got to know a little teeny bit more of what kind of cursed spirit or its abilities possessed Choso's mom.
Also, 2018 - about 150 years brings Choso's creation to either the Edo period or the Meiji period ( I think we're leaning more toward Meiji if I remember from the manga, but my brain is kinda fried after these updates so... oop )
-Kenjaku hate club meets have officially begun. Uraume and Yuji will bring snacks. Choso gets first strike dibs, and Sukuna can only join if he finally helps team murder on sight. XD
-Hiten... where to begin? A dear friend helped figure out what Hiten actually does, considering SOMEONE (cough gege cough) didn't bring Hiten out during the story's climax. I was kinda of more psyched for Hiten than Kamutoke tbh, though I am happy with what we got. It just means that we had to delve into fan theory and mythological lore, settling on the possible inspiration over Shiva's Trishula, as the flame arrow relations seems highly unlikely now and theories of flight, well... Dude defied gravity without it. U.U
-The passing off of Hiten from Sukuna to Yuji is this culmination of where their relationship has evolved to over the course of this fic. Sukuna is entrusting Yuji with something he considers an extension of himself. He is putting his faith in Yuji to win the battle ahead, and respecting Yuji's agency enough to allow him to take on this challenge alone. Yuji cannot grow to his fullest potential, both physically and spiritually, without tackling this hurdle. There were versions of this fic where Sukuna and Uraume joined Yuji in the future, but I could not commit to it over what this version of events represented to me. Oh, but I do love all the speculations and what-if discussions. It warms my heart knowing there is enough passion in those following this story to give it that much thought and love. Q.Q Seriously, reading through the comments overnight was so much fun. <3
-Not Uraume commenting on how Sukuna has changed as "It is not a bad thing.” T^T I can't with these two. FR!
-Writing their goodbyes (while not everlasting ones) made me cry. I am not ashamed to admit that. I am WEAK for this cast and the relationships that had evolved overtime. And then you add a little animal mascot into the mix, and I am DECEASED. The middle-finger exchange at the end is an homage to DBZ Abridged's ending to the Cell Arc in which time-traveler Trunks flips off his asshole dad that he built a bond with before returning to the future. While the scene is quite similar (with similar father-son dynamics) it also serves as a reminder to where the two began in this story, as Yuji was flipping Sukuna off while Sukuna did it back without much care or thought. Now it has a bit more meaning. Uraume is so over them, but loves them too much to wish for anything different.I think that is all, running out of characters. Additional edits to come later.
Next chapter will take a bit to come out, sorry! Hoping before the year ends! But, I am debating on if I should have it be one or two chapters (technically one full chapter and one scene on its one for REASONS) so if chapter count changes now, that is why. Same deal with the omake.Have a good rest of the week + weekend to come everyone! Thank you all so much for reading and engaging with this work. It means so much, truly. <3
Farewell for now! ;)
Chapter 16: Happy Holidays + Fic Update!
Notes:
This wonderful and heartwarming art is by dear JinRozenrot!
I am honestly so touched by how sweet the scene is. I absolutely adore Uraume's snow puppy in conjunction with Yuji's snowman Sukuna. And that tsundere-attitude on Sukuna's face is priceless.Please check out their works if able!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Notes:
Hello everyone!
I have fallen a bit behind on my preferred update schedule & my ability to respond to last chapters comments. Q.QI had gotten into a car accident last week (No physical injuries, Thank GOD) but the event has left be a bit rattled and stressed, which had impacted my ability to sit down and focus. Insert memes about AO3 authors here. Understand, writing is my form of stress relief, so being unable to engage with it is quite unsettling. Work has also been taxing due to year-end shenanigans, so it has been a wild time all around. HOWEVER! I am working through getting that spark back, and I already have much of the dialogue for the next chapter sorted out. It's all the little detail work, callbacks, and whatever else that comes to mind mid-process that is waiting for me. Haha.
I am really excited to share this next update and I hope to have it out real soon. <3
Additionally, I decided to include the omake chapter as part of the main fic, which is why we have a chapter count of 18 instead of 17 with the addition of this art piece. The omake chapter will go over a couple of events outside of Uraume's POV now that Yuji has returned to his timeline. I have decided to use Choso's POV for this, as I felt that switching to Yuji would make the overall narrative feel lopsided without something for Sukuna to balance it. Overall, the goal is to have the fic finished before or just after the New Years. Looking back and seeing just how far this story has come, my will to succeed is overriding any fear I may have in sticking the landing that may prevent me from trying.
Everyone's continued support since the beginning, as well as new readers who have joined us along the way, has been extremely appreciated and motivating. I do wish all of you a wonderful year's end. Please take care and happy holidays if you celebrate. <3
Chapter 17: If He Picked Up On Any Of Your Wit...
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
It was by their master’s undaunted hand that Uraume witnessed the sun’s filtered rays beneath the rubble left behind by that insolent sorcerer’s blast. It was their master’s unnecessary consideration that Uraume was spared the indignity of crawling back to the surface. And it was by their master’s orders that the chance to recover had been granted, as it was their honor to bestow Kamutoke upon him when the declaration of Sukuna’s victory became a reality. The Six Eyes was the only one capable of offering a worthwhile challenge. Anyone else was nothing but lackeys, charging after his fallen heels, desperate to find meaning in their own suicidal ends.
The one of lightning lost before he could even begin. The pinnacle of his power had been brushed aside without care, decimated into ash, and left to scatter upon the wind. What a waste of time. Waste of breath.
Yet, this pathetic display did not cause hesitation among those who would follow. Emboldened by madness, the sorcerers hovering in wait would make their move. An attack from above, distracting Uraume with the nonsense of gambling machines and strange scenes of romance while his allies broke through their glacier platform and hurled with intent to challenge their master’s newly cemented revival.
The asinine domain would not trap Uraume for long.
Descending through the sky, conjured gales whisked their body to land upon a three-story building around the arena’s edge. Eyes immediately snapped toward their master’s battle, more interested in observation and timing their own movements to assist when ordered rather than grant any form of care to the boisterous sorcerer attempting to keep them at bay.
Yet, the scene they had caught sight of gave them unexpected pause.
What was that in the worthless vessel’s hand? Could that possibly be—
“What is this— How!?”
Uraume could feel their entire body tense and recoil at the sight, taken aback by the lack of understanding as to just how this scene could have manifested itself into being. The vessel, the weak and pathetic imitation of their master, fought with greater ferocity than they had ever witnessed before. Not mindless, as he did not attack without purpose. Each movement to strike or dodge, often using the unmistakable trishula in his hand to gain leverage or reach, appeared to be purposeful, yet how could that be!?
Hiten had been in the sorcerer’s possession all this time? Since when? How had their master not known?
And why would that traitorous thing dare fight alongside that brat with grace!?
“I wouldn’t jump into that mess if I were you!” The distraction from before, the fly that wished to buzz around a giant’s head, was calling out to them, for he had landed nearby and had not considered their own battle to have ended. “From experience, getting between personal grudge matches is not a gamble worth taking. It’s why I volunteered to be your—”
Uraume held no intention of listening. They had already surmised the purpose of his role and all this and his abilities, refusing to acknowledge him as a true threat to devote thought to countering. Nor would they take interest in the newcomers encircling the domain in anticipation of their moment to strike. No, Uraume was far more interested in the ongoings of the domain that had erupted around the vessel and their master. Crafted by the third sorcerer who had initially ushered this next phase, in mere moments, the barriers surrounding them collapsed, revealing the man to be armed with a blade of light and Kamutoke no longer present.
Was that all they had accomplished within?
However, their master did not seem to care. Attention to the sword would not be given, as three of his eyes were fixated on the brat, teeth clenched, and expression forced within a framework of calm despite the obvious offense wielding Hiten had brought. The lack of Kamutoke would not prevent an arena-wide assault on this crowd of weaklings. Sukuna would surely see them slaughtered, but just as he lifted his hand, blue flames erupted from the vessel’s own hands as he began his assault. The vessel did not react to them, as they had been expected, as they were of his own making. Cinders trailed his steps, engulfing each place he once was in a plume of ash, all while the weapon he brandished too comfortably carried his sparks into the air to join the array of others created by the clash of invisible blades seeking to blind all who looked upon it.
“Hey! Are you ignoring— Did you turn your back on me? Talk about a smart move…” The distracting sound was back in Uraume’s ears, trailing off as if to tease them with peace, only for the sorcerer to conjure a set of doors with the intention of cutting them in two. Uraume easily dodged the attack, swiftly spinning around with an ice-enforced arm held up to block the incoming fist that would have broken through their jaw if their instincts had failed them.
“Cease your incessant—” Uraume heaved the sorcerer away from them, exchanging another burst of purposeless strikes before the two settled amongst the rubble. “Why does the vessel have that? How did Hiten end up in his unworthy hands!?”
During the wait for their master’s true incarnation, Uraume had searched high and low for any remains of those weapons. Every rumor, every document, even the haziest photo had been enough to bolster their efforts if it was to present Sukuna with his most prized possessions upon their return to his side. To have Yorozu, of all people, bestow a replacement for Kamutoke already brought enough shame. To now witness that the vessel had gotten his mitts on Hiten was a blunder Uraume would have to atone for many times over.
“That pointy stick?” Such disrespect— Worse of all, the sorcerer took his time thinking with a hand on his chin and eyes swaying about to infuriate Uraume further. “It was a gift from his dear old man.”
Old man? As in, his father? Was that supposed to be a reference to Kenjaku? For what purpose would that thing hand over Hiten to the failed vessel? What would he have to gain from moving against his own aspirations? Uraume could only chalk it up to a sick, twisted form of amusement. Clearly, that brain had gone rotten centuries ago, and now that Sukuna was a part of the living realm once more, Kenjaku’s usefulness had come to an end.
It was only under these circumstances that Uraume found sadness in knowing that the bastard was dead. They had lost the chance to pierce an icicle through his skull themselves.
The clash below had beckoned Uraume to continue watching, taking note of every step, every shift in posture and moment of pause the vessel took when fighting their master with uncanny skill and precision. Using Sukuna’s own weapon against him had afforded their master insight into how it worked, thus the threat of such a powerful cursed tool waned a bit. Though, not entirely. They would have to assume that Hiten ended up in the boy’s hands after their master moved vessels, thus the amount of time the boy had to practice using it in tandem with this seemingly miraculous awakening of Sukuna’s cursed technique etched within him would not have been enough to get where he was now.
Something is amiss.
“What have you all done?” Uraume stomped toward the sorcerer, demanding an explanation.
“We didn’t do anything.” Unfazed by the sudden lack of space between them, the sorcerer picked up a shard of ice off the ground to present Uraume with their own furious reflection. “If you and your ‘master’ need someone to blame, try a mirror.”
“You make no sense!”
“How about this?” The sorcerer tossed the ice shard over his shoulder. “If I don’t get a jackpot during this next round, I’ll give you the whole crazy rundown.”
His continual goading for a fight had become irksome, but Uraume would not refuse this challenge. The odds were manipulated in the sorcerer’s favor. One with a technique based on luck would not be foolish enough to lean on it entirely. But that did not matter. Jackpot or not, Uraume was going to get the answers they desired.
With a deep breath to begin, Uraume released a maelstrom of cold. Their battle resumed, leaving Sukuna to face the vessel and his allies alone with faith in his success regardless of any trick they could pull. If all else failed, Malevolent Shrine would see to their end.
Sukuna requested time for solitude. He did not impose it, aware that his decision to journey south for a few days would leave Uraume alone once the pup showed an odd interest in accompanying him. Interest that their master could not dissuade, as little Sato practically nipped at his heels in excitement. Their departure had been slower than usual, offering ample time for Uraume to speak their mind should they wish for their master to reconsider.
And Uraume did no such thing. It was not their place to demand Sukuna alter his course for their benefit. Each of them would deal with their turmoil in their own ways, on the unspoken promise of returning to each other’s company once it felt right to do so.
Paradoxically, Yuji and Choso’s departure revealed just how suffocating the estate could be. Uraume considered, in time, that they may request to make a journey of their own. A settlement somewhere small and remote to request a place to stay during the night while their days were in search of new aromatics and other ingredients and the techniques required to make use of them. That daydream was a welcome one. And, at times, a soothing one. Until it could come to pass, Uraume had been left to their own devices. Able to indulge in this time as they pleased, so long as the basic rounds were made and general upkeep was maintained.
There was peace in finding their own rhythm, but that peace could withstand the onslaught of one, but two unwelcome visitors to knock on the front gates and demand entry.
“Where are my babies!?”
No hesitation. No consideration. An unmistakable forehead scar only confirmed the identity of the grating voice shouting on the other side. The infuriating man let himself inside, opening the gate and thrusting his head through in a pointless search, offering himself up as a target for Uraume’s ice-made dagger. Creating the weapon was done on instinct. The decision to throw it with intent to kill was an active, albeit impulsive, decision.
“Really? Do you perceive me as pathetic to be felled by a measly dagger?” Kenjaku shot upward after his dodge, eyeing the dagger now lodged in the pillar beside him and the one who threw it with morbid amusement. He would not dwell on the attempt for long, too attuned to the original reason for his appearance. “Let us skip your unparalleled pleasantries. Another of my children has invaded this era with his presence, and I must see him.”
And said child was not present, nor did he show any desire to engage with his father now that the opportunity presented itself.
“And what if he does not feel the same in turn?” Uraume could only dream of gripping their head and growling in frustration as their master did. This one individual must have sensed their peace, choosing to bring mayhem out of spite.
“Why are they like this? First Yuji and now… Sukuna must be to blame.” A shrug came with Kenjaku’s conclusion. The man continued stepping inside, glancing around the courtyard to locate the two who would not be found.
“You are the sole common factor, for the elder sibling is not a child of Sukuna-sama.”
“Interesting.” Kenjaku mused, leaving Uraume uneasy. Should they have clarified the lack of relation or stayed silent? “And how did he manage to spirit the prince away?”
“I was correct in telling you that they are no longer present within this era. The echoes you pursued on your way here meant nothing.”
Another voice, that of Tengen’s, followed through the breach Kenjaku made. The Immortal One did so at her own pace, still amassing awe in Uraume despite sensing her approach. She was as hard to read as ever. One could be forgiven in believing that Kenjaku had siphoned all of her emotions, given their difference in outward expression. This pair which existed since well before Uraume’s own birth, now standing together, gave a more significant impression of a child and an elder rather than equals. Yet, who was to say? Their master believed in the possibility of the reverse being equally true, which was not something Uraume could support. The thought was preposterous.
Why were these two here when their master was not? While it may be Uraume’s duty to watch over the estate and handle visitors as they saw fit, why did it have to be them?
“Are you seeking accolades?” Kenjaku huffed, showing no care for Tengen’s input. “Forgive me for not taking your claims at face value when observing with my own eyes is far more trustworthy.”
Within their mind and out of sight, Uraume prayed for their master’s swift return. Kenjaku was terrible enough, but he was someone who could be ignored if given food, drink, and a place to lounge about while Uraume carried on their ‘mundane’ tasks. Tengen, on the other hand, required acknowledgment. Respect should be given to keep the peace. Yet, interacting with her now carried the caveat of Kenjaku hovering about.
The best Uraume could do was ignore him as they sought some explanation.
“Tengen-sama.” Uraume cleared their throat in preparation to shift the attention of two powerful entities their way. “What business do you both have with Sukuna-sama?”
“I wished to know how your master is fairing. A written message would certainly go ignored, so I decided to make the trek once more.” Prior events have proven that assumption to be true, thus Uraume could not argue against it.
“You witness Tengen crawling out of her seclusion twice in the same decade. What a historic event!” Kenjaku’s comment would go ignored.
“Sukuna is not rampaging. I have yet to hear of political disarray beyond a… choice rumor I now believe is not his doing.” Tengen’s eyes moved over to Kenjaku, but her lips still directed their words toward Uraume. She appeared fed up with him in her own way, which begged the question of why they were together at all. “He and his son must have parted on good terms. Are we able to seek refuge for a time? I am aware that your master is not here, and thus, the timing of this visit could have been better. I had believed he was already traveling in this direction, but becoming side-tracked is not unheard of.”
Their master was on his way, then? Excellent.
However, such good news would not offset Uraume’s reluctance to escort the pair properly inside. What was Uraume to do? Turn Tengen, of all people, back toward the road and pray Kenjaku would follow after laughing at her expense. If Sukuna were here, they would have done it upon being given the command. But right now, they were alone. Uraume had not witnessed anger or frustration of the same level as their master, but there was a chance within their mind that it was possible should they offend.
“Have you been well?” Just as Uraume slid open the doors to the shinden, Tengen’s question came as a surprise.
“I… have? Your consideration is appreciated, Tengen-sama.”
Kenjake made a noise. Something between a cough and a repressed sneeze, neither respectable in any sense to act as a prelude to whatever comment that had come to mind. Yet, he would not manage to speak it as Tengen glanced over her shoulder to stop him.
“Do you have other business, or will you continue to stand about and comment on mine?”
“You’re quite invested in all… this.” Kenjaku waved a hand up in the air, gesturing in every which way as he followed after them. “Is that the tiniest inkling of emotional distress I sense? You don’t miss the boy, do you?”
Did she? Now, Uraume was curious, considering the estranged relationship between her and their master. Fondness for Yuji could be argued with what they had observed during her visit. And now that the boy was gone, seemingly forever as far as she was aware… Was she late in saying her farewells?
“I had invited Yuji to visit my home and I lament that the offer will go unrealized.” Tengen sat by the tea set Uraume had set out for themselves earlier. The additional cups had been taken out of habit, which seemed to work in their favor to avoid leaving these two out of their sight just yet. “He calls me Ten-sama, and shares the most interesting things. I had hoped to hear more.”
Her words almost sounded like bragging. Whether it was or not, Kenjaku’s smile grew a tad wider and his face a shade darker of red. That fan of his made a return, beating rapidly as he stole Uraume’s seat. If it wasn’t for the amusing back-and-forth developing in front of them, Uraume would have felt more inclined to physically retaliate if they were foolish enough.
It was not only Sukuna who showed signs of frustration when dealing with Tengen. And just as before, Tengen’s muted remarks only seemed to exacerbate the reactions of others.
“And now that brat is making trouble elsewhere.”
“Cleaning up your failures.” Uraume would not stand for slander coming out of Kenjaku’s mouth. Tengen already knew that Yuji was not within this era, thus his return home was the most likely assumption to where he went. Confirming that as truth would be all that damning. “He is returning his era to the peace he had lost.”
“I can understand a reference to Tengen’s failures,” Kenjaku pointed his fan at Tengen before placing a dainty hand on his chest. “But mine?”
“Your failure to account for him.”
A bold statement. One full of offense and pride. Sukuna may not be present, but that was not an invitation to step on every last nerve and twist to see what came of it.
“Uraume does have a point.” Tengen chimed in, drink already poured. She then moved to sift through Kenjaku’s cloth bag, seeking out candied treats she knew all too well where to find. Indulgence came in moderation, offering something to the two present rather than hoarding her ill-begotten goods, much to Kenjaku’s displeasure. “If the boy succeeds in his battle against his father’s counterpart, who, given current evidence, is aligned with your counterpart, then his tenacity and that of his allies will be said counterpart's undoing.”
“And how was he supposed to account for time travel?” Whining on Kenjaku’s end would not turn Tengen’s words false. “I thought we had concluded on the concept being a myth until the boy’s arrival?”
“A soothing notion to avoid the detrimental consequences of paradoxes.” Tengen corrected him before turning to Uraume in search of further addendum. “Do we have a better understanding of what framework the boy’s travel took place within?”
“Multiple worlds and a rift through time and space. All caused by a single accident.”
For Yuji’s sake, Uraume kept the details of the accident to themselves. Tengen could press their master for more, or even the boy himself once he returned, and if Yuji was finally willing. Until then, they would remain silent.
“Of his own creation?” Of course, Kenjaku’s guesswork had to outdo their efforts. Uraume’s lack of immediate dismissal would then make them suspect, leading to the sorcerer further following the consequences of such a revelation. “Now I am the one lamenting, as I should have pushed to assess him more thoroughly. To think he is a product of my own genius mind… Ah, but he will certainly be back. I will find the means to prod at him then. After all he's done, it is the least he could permit me.”
Uraume raised an eyebrow, about to suggest an alternative theory that placed blame on another in Yuji’s time, only to falter as their lie would surely be caught. If not by Kenjaku, then by Tengen. Only those with something to hide speak such things. Worse still, their silence continued to confirm Kenjaku to be correct.
“Was one future not enough? Now, he must attempt to gain dominion over two. Just as greedy as his father.” Kenjaku shook his head, sighing heavily without losing that conniving twinkle in his eye. “That boy has no respect for his elders. For shame.”
“Actually, he was quite earnest when polite and was very respectful. It is saddening to see that such behavior must skip a generation.” Surprisingly, it was Tengen’s turn to shut down Kenjaku’s condemnation, though it was at the expense of both the boy's parents. “Is the boy truly going to return to our era?”
“It was the condition set for Sukuna-sama to permit his departure home in the first place. Yuji-sama has not taken your warnings for granted. Thus, he does not plan on continuing this back and forth between our worlds once he is with us again.”
“I suppose that is more consideration than his father is willing to give the matter.” It would appear that Tengen was rather indifferent to the prospect of his return. Cautious but otherwise accepting that it was an active factor in Sukuna’s so-called decent behavior. “So long as he remains mindful, I will not berate him too harshly once we meet again.”
“How boring, the lot of you!”
Attention turned to Kenjaku, who had taken it upon himself to open a bottle of something more pungent to enjoy instead of lukewarm tea. Caution was not an essential part of his vocabulary, it would seem.
“Time travel, the possibility of endless realities, exploration beyond the bounds of our existence, and you want to remain cozy in this one? What happened to that undaunted spirit, Tengen?” Time would not be given for Tengen to answer as Kenjaku cut off the beginnings of whatever debate he had stirred to address the original topic for his visit. “And what of his brother? Uraume, you have to tell me everything you know.”
“I know next to nothing, and that is the truth.” What Uraume did know only ignited their temper. “I can only assume.”
“Then assume away!”
No.
“I doubt his origin is traditional, as far as… how children are made. And that is all I have come to grasp.” Uraume held no interest in this little game. Kenjaku was more than welcome to approach Yuji and meet his end by asking such things on his own. Either by Yuji’s hand, or Uraume’s should the boy grant the honor. Contingency plans be damned. The temporary death of this monster was enough to satisfy in the short term.
“You disappoint me.”
Uraume did not care whether they met expectations or not. It would seem that Kenjaku understood this enough to stop pushing on this front, instead choosing to return focus on what else binds his children together.
“The connection of not one, but both now shared with the Kamo clan continues to pique my interest. And speaking of them, regardless of whether my dear sweet mysteries may no longer be present, the Kamo clan has shown tentative interest in setting up a meeting.”
“A meeting or an interrogation?”
“A plea for explanation. You should have seen their faces when the news reached their ears. It has been a while since I have witnessed a human face pale so intensely. You may have cleared the misunderstanding with us, but most are not aware that this ‘second bastard-Prince’ is not of your master’s blood. And even if the truth is revealed, a proficient user of the Blood Manipulation technique outside of the Kamo clan’s influence reveals cracks in their authority and weakness in their ability to monopolize the technique.” Kenjaku would keep speaking, attuned to the sound of his own voice. “The trust and favor of others is hard to gain when one may be related to the King of Curses. To use his name for leverage in the opposing sense, however, would require a connection to be proven…”
Meanwhile, Uraume contemplated on previous encounters within the estate, of which there were fewer than expected around this time of year. The lack of Yuji's presence may have caught wind, even if some were in denial of it before witnessing the truth themselves. As far as Uraume was aware, no one had attempted to reach out to the estate to arrange a formal meeting. Least of all, one of the major sorcerer clans.
They would have to warn their master of this later.
The pair kept up their dialogue well into the evening, keeping the shinden lively, and the rest of the estate was forced to endure the echo of Kenjaku’s animated retorts should whatever concept elicit an unexpected amount of passion. Peace and quiet had all but vacated the area completely. Uraume could only stay to observe them for so long until their mind became overwhelmed with theoretical nightmares and a lack of tolerance for a certain sorcerer’s stolen face. Their fist shook in desperate need to connect with his jaw, forcing Uraume out of the room to avoid a mess they did not wish to clean up after.
Thus, Uraume ended up sitting outside the shinden’s steps. The air had warmed, and snow no longer remained, creating a pleasant atmosphere that could not be enjoyed at its fullest.
An apology was in order for when their master arrived. Uraume would profess their shame in allowing those two to come in as they pleased, regardless of their ability to change their minds. The exact wording of this regret, along with their greeting, would have to be worked on, and it was only until a weight had found itself over their shoulders that Uraume’s head suddenly jolted upward in a daze.
It would seem that they had passed out during their wait. The sky was caught in a clash of deep orange and violet as the sun had entirely disappeared over the treeline.
With a tentative hand, Uraume reached for their shoulders to find that a heavy cloak had been placed over them. A light whine further brought their mind into the present, as little Sato’s muzzle was currently balanced on their knee. His tail happily shook upon being acknowledged with a finger scratching between his eyes. What caught their attention next was the sound of their master threatening to collapse the heavens down on earth if neither visitor vacated the premises immediately, with their protests most amusing. Ironically, the sound of their conflict was comforting enough to drift off again, if only for a few more minutes as their master sorted out what they could not.
“Another child. Another that I can not boast the honor of bestowing upon my dearest… This world is cruel. How am I supposed to be his first wife if I am not able to fulfill such an important duty?”
Yorozu’s voice barreled into the Shinden, seeking out any within earshot whether they wished to hear it or not. Her footsteps followed, stomping through the corridors with a haughty air of entitlement unfit for someone entering uninvited.
“No wonder the mother has been out of the public eye; she’s of the Kamo-clan! Now that her clan’s cursed technique passed to one of her children instead of Sukuna-sama’s, the relation cannot be denied.”
“Sukuna-sama only has one child.” Uraume responded without nearly the same energy, half expecting their comment to go unheard if it wasn’t for Yorozu’s sudden stop outside of Yuji’s quarters. “Yuji-sama and his elder brother share only one parent, and it is not the master of his house.”
“Oh.” The tone in Yorozu’s voice spun entirely around. So much so that the pleasant “I can live with that!”
All Uraume could do was shake their lowered head in response. Too distracted to deal with Yorozu’s antics, they had already yielded to the repetitive busywork of tidying the young master’s quarters. The total number of times they’d done this had become lost to them. While refusing to permit dust the chance to settle over his things was not a task that required much thought, Uraume’s mind could not help but roll over the same melancholic thoughts that came with acknowledging Yuji’s absence.
It was difficult to state just how long they would have to wait for his return. One month was less than a day when comparing Uraume’s time to the one Yuji currently occupied. But what did less than a day mean? Was it a quarter? A third? Or just shy of that halfway mark? Uraume knew by their master’s calculations it was about a third, yet if they could believe otherwise to squish the numbers just a bit further, then perhaps this excruciating wait would not be so… Long.
There were only a handful of days left on Yuji’s end before the battle between his sensei and the Sukuna of his era. Only one day was required— truly, far less than that —to declare a victor, with a day or two permitted to recover before departing. Thus, Yuji was expected to arrive sometime during the summer. Next summer. Over a year was to pass by without his intrusive, sickeningly enjoyable presence that left a cruel awareness of the vacancy it had left behind.
The years had never dragged so painfully before. Even in the trials and tribulations of their youth, followed by the years accompanying their master’s side, there had never been an indication that something was missing until now. Even the kitchen lost its ability to muster the same warmth as it once had. Were these overdramatics experienced by all those who let their little wards loose upon the world? Or was this simply the curse of attachment sinking its talons further in? To think, if these feelings were to never find resolution, if the young master were to fail… What would become of this estate next?
Such thoughts were cruel and unwarranted, but they could not be so easily drowned out.
“Ahem. Moving on. I have arrived for our promised biwa lessons! I have also brought another… Where is our Prince? I do not sense him by the far end of the pond with his father.” Yorozu turned her head about, looking for a boy who was no longer present.
“The young master is…. taking care of personal business. His journey is a long one, but in time, he will be back.”
“Yuji-hiko is… Sukuna-sama must be broken up.” Yorozu jumped, landing with her feet shoulder-width apart and her fists pumped out in front. Concern had taken over, as did her usual stroke of delusion in assuming what was best for Uraume’s master. “I should console him—”
The mad woman ceased her unnecessary shouting.
She did not charge through the estate at the mere thought of offering her ‘care and affection.’ Nor did she scream and shout some nonsensical declaration. The expected tumbling of footsteps had not taken place, which had only made what she said next all the more strange.
“Are you alright?”
“Hm?” Was that directed at them? Uraume lifted their head, fingers unable to sort through the mildly crumbled pages in their hands. “I am quite fine. What bewitches you to ask that?”
“You seem, hm… depressed.” Spoken with no tact, Yorozu stated her observation as she stepped closer and poked her head through the silken partitions. “There is less bite in your words. That sharp, icey tongue has turned to slush.”
Was their drop in mood that obvious? Uraume had not thought themselves to be any more put off by Yorozu’s intrusion than usual. They did not feel inclined to respond to what initially felt to be mockery either. It was only upon a bit of reflection in which Uraume realized that Yorozu’s tone had lacked mockery that they reached for the polished bronze mirror on the other side of the mirror to check their reflection.
The chance for personal assessment would dissipate, however, as Uraume soon caught sight of Yorozu standing over their shoulder. Her eyes were directed toward what had kept the servant from vacating the room after completing their task.
“Are these his?” Yorozu pointed at the first drawing that caught her eye, surprising no one that it was a rough sketch of Sukuna’s side-view profile. “The little Prince is talented.”
“He is— Hey!”
It was not only Uraume’s words that had dulled, but their reflexes as well. Yorozu, without any warning, dived over their shoulder to snatch a handful of parchment from the desk to sift through at her content. No amount of protest would lead to her relinquishing the young master’s art without physical protest whether it be through light footwork or a defensive elbow to keep Uraume’s hand away.
“So many faces… Is this supposed to be me!?” A shriek from Yorozu’s throat caught Uraume off guard, causing them to wince with a hand over their tortured ear. Yes, the young master had chosen to depict her likeness. It had not been for her sake. Though, her approval might have brought a bit of delight regardless of the awful sound that came with it. “And look at this one, he drew you with blossoms in your hair. So cute!”
A more recent endeavor, one of the last before his father demanded all his time to be spent preparing for the battlefield. Regardless of how fond Uraume was of it, they would not let Yorozu’s manipulative offering distract them from the impudent matter at hand. Why did she have to move so fast? Spinning about, tip-toeing around the room without care for the one demanding she stayed put!
“And who might this be?” When the woman finally came to a halt, the stack of papers in her hand was raised high above her head, taking full advantage of the candlelight behind her back to eye the depiction of a certain brother Yuji held dear. “He’s handsome.”
H-Handsome?
Uraume had come close to pulling her hair to bend her back, but Yorozu’s thoughts regarding Choso’s face had caused them to freeze in place.
“I thought your ‘undying love’ was solely for Sukuna-sama?”
“Hah! Oh, Ume, how little you know of love! Sukuna-sama may possess it as I offer it, but it is not his in exclusivity. As I will be the crowning jewel of his harem, he shall be the centerpiece of mine.” That was… indeed a statement Uraume had not expected to hear. The revelation that their master may not be the only one this woman may be terrorizing only left them more puzzled about how she managed to carry on as she did. And the presumption of her claim… “It’s those tired and distant eyes. They make me want to bring him close and dash all his sadness away.”
That description… Yorozu had found a similar draw toward Sukuna that fateful day due to those very traits. Was that something she fancied heavily?
“Hopeless.” Uraume hissed, just as their hand made another unsuccessful swipe for the young master’s works.
“You have not told me who this man is. Or is he a fabrication of the Prince’s mind?”
“That is Yuji-sama’s older brother. Do not think—” A lunge which propelled their entire body forward found success! Revealing the portrait's identity had permitted Uraume an opening, allowing them to snatch victory from Yorozu’s loosened claws.
“A Kamo?” The woman pressed the tips of two fingers against her forehead to envision a scene in which her other hand would gently shape into the air. Her mimicked gestures of intimacy were shameful. “I can envision it. Court rumors are doing wonders for the possibilities of what he may be capable of…”
“Do not lust over paper!”
Uraume berated her over their shoulder while preparing the art for storage, cutting whatever nauseating dream she had conjured short. They paid no mind to the furrowed brow and pouting lips they received. It was bad enough that unwanted thoughts attempted to break through Uraume’s insistent refusal to consider whatever the woman had been insinuating.
A trip to the kitchen was in order…
“Where is the little beast… There you are!” Instead of vacating the room where she was clearly unwanted, Yorozu shuffled about to find little Sato lazing about on the tatami his master used to sleep on. Yuji’s blankets had become a rest for the pup’s chin and now a headrest for the woman who decided to lay on the ground beside him as she began scratching little Sato’s coat. “You miss him too, don’t you?”
The traitor’s tail repeatedly smacked the ground in slow, heavy thumps of affirmation.
At least he was keeping her attention elsewhere while Uraume finished up. Those blankets were in need of a wash regardless of her presence causing greater amounts of wolf hair to shed. As for the tatami, there really was no reason to keep it out…
“You’re both worried for him.”
Yorozu’s back remained facing Uraume. Her hands were still occupied with the pup’s belly, but her movements had slowed significantly. The air-headed dismissal of those reactions surrounding her that did not fit her delusional worldview was a purposeful act. A farce that allowed the woman to move about to the beat of her own desires. Equating that to ignorance was a foolish habit Uraume had found themselves falling into. Strangely, she wasn’t the only one they knew who acted this way. Perhaps it was a shallow judgment on their part. This wild woman, this sorcerer, did not live among the Fujiwara simply due to her looks or function as another means to add new cursed techniques to their ranks.
“Yuji-sama has a dangerous battle ahead.” Not enough time had passed for it to have happened, and it would be even longer still to learn the result. That truth was an agonizing one. “I know he is capable. I have seen his preparation effort with my own eyes, but I still cannot help but feel… anxious.”
Admitting their doubt aloud did not immediately cure them of it. Uraume had done well to avoid this topic, to share the truth buried deep within them, especially when it was unnecessary to burden their master with such shameful things. It was because of this that they had prepared to be reprimanded. Judged or flippantly tossed aside, as it was surely not something Yorozu would wish to engage with.
Yet, she remained.
Even stranger, her response came from a place of sympathy.
“Sukuna-sama is his father. And if he picked up on any of your wit, I’m sure our little Prince will be coming back no worse for wear.” Her consolation was unexpected, and more appreciated than Uraume could ever admit aloud. “I will have more music prepared for the occasion. Maybe I could get a hold of some treats as well? You must know what he likes.”
“W-Well, Yuji-sama is not terribly picky. But he does show a preference for—”
“Why are you both occupying my son’s quarters?”
Looming within the entryway, their master stood with one set of arms crossed and a contorted stare, unable to place itself amidst annoyance and confusion. It was by Yorozu’s presence demanding Uraume’s attention that they did not take notice when Sukuna was on the move.
“Sukuna-sama, you have finally come to properly greet your beloved guest!” Without missing a moment, the woman jumped off the ground with hands pressed together in delight.
“I came to understand why you have not been removed from the property yet.” Sukuna growled, refusing to match her energy or delight. “The brat is not here; your presence is unnecessary.”
His blatant disregard for her arrival was not out of the norm, but this time, she did not so adamantly object to hearing it so swiftly. That pouting face of hers was back. As was her discerning eye, flickering between Sukuna’s face and posture, only to find its way back to Uraume with an astonishingly bold click of disapproval to follow.
While subtle, the similarities they may share were not overlooked when their prior conversation showed how the young master’s absence was affecting those he left behind. Sukuna was not one to speak of how his son’s departure affected him. Just as Uraume had decided, he thought it best to ignore whatever came of it, for this waiting period was bound to end. He, if anyone, could outlast it.
“I see. The cause of this somber mood is your doing. I cannot blame you, but I also cannot condone this as it spreads throughout your household.”
“Excuse me!?”
“I had once again prepared to offer my love to soothe your aching soul, but you’re so quick to toss it aside.” Yorozu’s stance shifted to something more combative. A fist was now high in the air to accompany her battle cry. “Fortunately for you, I persist!”
“I have no need for your love—!”
Their master was violently cut off by the encased fist that attempted to jam itself between his ribs. One arm managed to block the first blow, taking the brunt of the heightened impact that came from the insectoid gauntlet now surrounding Yorozu’s arms. The rest of her armor followed just as quickly, flashing into existence one burst at a time, sending Sukuna sliding backward into the courtyard for a true battle to break out now that any valuables were out of the way.
Her challenge would not go unmet, after all. And as the two came to earth-shattering blows, Uraume could only let out a hum as they reached down to pet the head of the little pup who had gotten up to observe what madness wreaked havoc outside. Despite declaring it to be insanity, it was this very scene that the estate had been lacking for quite a while.
“I do hope that Sukuna-sama keeps in mind not to cut the young master’s instructor down completely. For the young master’s sake. It would be troublesome for him to return to such terrible news.”
Sato titled his head, yipping in such a way that Uraume wished to believe was simple agreement and not a means of calling out the reasoning behind their sudden turnabout regarding the woman’s fate.
“There you are.”
Uraume turned away from the plum blossoms overhead, answering the call of their master.
“The mutt would not stop whining. It was not enough for him to seek you out on his own, as he is capable of doing.” Their master glared down at Sato with eyes spearheading empty threats in his direction. He remained firm in his verbal annoyance, yet the lack of kicking the pup out of his chambers at night spoke greater volumes about how he truly felt. “You have been absent for a while now.”
“My apologies, Sukuna-sama.”
“I did not say that you were at fault for it.”
“Ah.” Heat took over a small portion of their cheeks, causing an unwanted blush. “It has not yet been a year, but seeing this tree in bloom left my feet unwilling to move.”
It had become all too easy to get caught in their memories. Whether simple or absurd, the young master’s present had left an impact that often gave room for pause. Contemplation. Avoiding his quarters did not stop this habit from continuing, as even the kitchen felt empty at times. It was that smile to blame. The moment it appeared in earnest that Uraume got to witness the sun behind the clouds, there was little that could be done to prevent them from reaching for it once again.
“Here.”
The sudden hand by their head had Uraume's eyes snapping open. On curious instinct, their own hand followed their master’s, shocked to find a plum blossom had become entangled in their hair. They had not even registered their master’s movement, entirely lost in their thoughts. An embarrassing display of incompetence, yet they were rewarded with this?
“Obviously, the brat is not here to do it himself.”
The invisible weight that had wound itself around Uraume’s legs came undone.
“Suddenly… I am able to walk again.” Uraume lifted one foot, then the other, grateful to see the weight within their chest had also lessened. “Thank you, Sukuma-sama—”
To Uraume’s surprise, their master had already turned away, intent on heading back to the main house. Sukuna did not speak of his son often. The subject was not taboo nor unwelcome, simply avoided unless brought up by another. Yuji’s absence had given him plenty of time to deal with the consequences of caring. If this was caused by bitterness, Uraume suspected such feelings would be cast aside upon their reunion.
But, if they were to overwhelm in the meantime, Uraume would remain ready to hear them should the need to converse arise. Until then, Uraume hurried along after him, inquiring about preparations for their evening meal and when their next trip for supplies would be decided. After all, life at the estate would keep marching on.
Uraume was used to not-so-little Sato’s sudden bursts of energy. The pup’s vigilant and territorial nature often worked to keep the estate free of any pests that dared to stray too close. Curiosity would lead him further out to hunt down any signs of intrusion. Twice, Sato had uncovered tracks of spies who thought themselves immune to detection, only to fail at accounting for the mundane traces left behind when effort had been poured into suppressing the ripples of cursed energy that their presence would have made otherwise. Twice, he and Uraume disposed of them, avoiding any further outrage from their master as one more time would be the last regardless of his son’s threat of retaliation should drastic measures be taken. Spies were a coward's game. Was that not obvious? A direct challenge would have been received with open arms. But this recent gamble to keep a steady eye in the north led Uraume to believe something else may be occurring among the ranks of the sorcerer clans.
There was one person who knew it all, and Uraume would rather that person’s tongue be removed than be made of use.
When Sato’s ears had perked up, twitching and turning before a single sniff sent the pup dashing through the estate, Uraume could only sigh and prepare themselves for the inevitable conflict ahead. Yet, the aggressive degree of barking and howling that followed had not aligned with previous pursuits. Sato had enough awareness about him to stalk his prey before vocalizing their location. In this instance, it appeared as if he were announcing his approach intentionally, and it would only take a moment later for Uraume to sense why.
A familiar flicker of cursed energy had graced their world. Accompanied by two others, one known and the other suspect, a curiosity that Uraume would hold the answers to shortly as now they were clamoring to their feet without second thought. Sprinting as a child would, overcome with fever, they ran through the halls that stood between their kitchen and the main gate. Around the halfway mark, Uraume managed to get a hold of themselves. Sense took over, taking back control to slow their steps and shake the wrinkles of their clothes. They had been tempted to run a few fingers to press down their windswept hair, but just as contact was to be made, the sound of laughter overtook Sato’s barking. Any thought of standing by the main gate and simply waiting was tossed aside. Uraume would not wait any longer, thus, they hurried around the final bend and smiled at the joyous sight which greeted them.
Yuji lay belly-up in the middle of the dirt road. What bags he had been responsible for carrying were now strewn about as a consequence to being tackled by the wolf he’d raised, nearly doubling in size since his departure. The pup’s tongue showed him no mercy, refusing to allow the boy to speak beyond the shortest of words. And, of course, the young master was not one to shove the beast away, actively scratching his ears and embracing Sato in turn. The two would eventually flip positions as Yuji rubbed the pup’s stomach up and down, affording himself a moment of reprieve, which only grew as the wolf finally registered to two companions overseeing their long-awaited reunion.
At first, the beast nudged Choso’s legs with his nose. He let out a bark of recognition, earning a hesitant head pat before attention moved to the boy who had garnered a good amount of skepticism. Sato sniffed him up and down, seemingly after a particular scent, to the point of being obtrusive, though it would seem the third member of their trio had not paid the behavior any mind. He was too busy listening to Yuji speak and gesture about, presumably explaining Sato’s presence, among other related topics.
Uraume knew this boy. His face graced many pages among their young master’s drawings. Unfortunately, the memory of Fushiguro Megumi that Yuji had held so dear did not carry as many scars as Uraume observed now. Uncanny remnants of the one who had forcefully overtaken his body. His presence, wholly unexpected, meant that Yuji had succeeded on two fronts. No trace of his father’s counterpart remained. The boy he gave his all to save stood alive and presumably well, but Uraume refrained from assuming what trauma had been sustained underneath the surface during their time apart.
Megumi was the first of the trio to acknowledge Uraume watching over them. His gaze tightened upon making eye contact, as did his fist, reacting out of instinct to a face that prior experience lent his heart to consider hostile when his mind must know otherwise. Not as severe of a reaction as the young master’s, but something to keep note of as Uraume's actions would be scrutinized and intentions doubted until Yuji’s anecdotes were proven true.
A quick comment led Yuji to jump back, possibly stumbling over if his reflexes hadn’t kept him right side up. He looked at Uraume with a wide grin, chuckling as he realized it would be his burden to explain the additional guests and numerous bags carried between them. Yet, before all that, he approached Uraume with a stutter, unable to produce any full sentence. Hands worked quickly to brush off the accumulated dirt. Just as he was about to formulate something tangible, it was Uraume who reached out and pulled him into a hug that would soon be reciprocated.
“Welcome home, Yuji-sama.” They gave the boy a gentle squeeze, only to find that it was not enough and that a stronger force would be necessary before Uraume was satisfied. Yuji was alive, and he was home. “I see that your older brother followed you.”
“There was no rule saying he couldn’t?” Yuji spoke as if that was a question, treading carefully as he suspected that his return was the only thing offsetting the intrusion he had not sought permission for.
“And you brought your boy-friend home as well.”
“I, well… Boyfriend!? Fushiguro isn’t—!”
The young master frantically waved his arms about while his flustered look led Megumi to raise an eye, left to wonder about the topic of their exchange and why his name had something to do with it. Choso, who understood pieces of their exchange, sighed. Mercy only came as Uraume ended the tease.
“My mistake.”
“Fushiguro is… We are going to keep living together, whatever that looks like.” A stiff bow full of determination preceded Yuji’s apology. “I am sorry for not asking first, but even if my father said no, this is something I won’t budge on.”
“It is alright, Yuji-sama. It is not me who you have to plead your case to, as I am delighted to finally meet this boy in person.” An endless stream of questions presented themselves, with a few buzzing loudly despite the inability to be asked without the necessary translator present to speak them. This Megumi had a respectable air about him and a powerful aura as far as cursed energy was concerned. Uraume was certain that there were far worse influences in Yuji’s life, and Sukuna was bound to agree, considering this one was willing to cross worlds to stand with him. “And while on the topic of pleading for forgiveness, where is Hiten?”
It was not kind to assume the worst, which was why Uraume’s eyes darted amongst the boys and their things, only to accept that Hiten was too long to be hidden among them. That could only mean…
“I, uh, it is a really funny story. Hiten… broke— I have all the pieces!” Yuji gestured for Choso to lift one of the sacks in his hand. “Technically, Sukuna is the one that broke it.”
“Oh dear, your father is going to be… well, your return should offset his fury.”
Yuji and Uraume shared a nervous and awkward laugh between them. The extra shaking in Yuji’s voice was apparent. While Uraume had enough restraint to prevent their own voice from cracking, they still internally smacked themselves for believing that their master would react too harshly, given the circumstances.
At least now, they two had something to bond over in the case of repairing Hiten or seeking something of equal value to act as a replacement.
“I should go see him.” Yuji lamented his fate, only for a moment, as he had come with enough good news to offset his woes. “Would it be alright if you bring Choso and Fushiguro to my room to set down our things? We can sort everything out later, maybe?”
“I will handle this task.” There was no reason to cause further delay. Sukuna was certainly awaiting his son. “Now, go. Do not keep Sukuna-sama waiting.”
Uraume did not have enough time to assess Megumi beyond the short walk to where he and Choso were expected to set down their things and wait for the young master to direct them once a decision was made regarding their future living conditions. It would be improper for all three to share one room. With the two brothers, as they were before, it was a short-term solution to a relatively unimportant problem. But now that that estate was to continue this slow build of liveliness within its walls, it would stand to reason that properly sectioned living spaces should be designated.
All of this could come later, of course.
More important matters took precedence. A welcome home feast was in order. Uraume had already begun preparing the menu in their head, but what had stopped them from barreling straight to the kitchen after unloading the young master’s companions was the sudden acknowledgment that they had not heard their master shout nor were their tremors upending the earth beneath their feet. Cursed energy had flared a bit between them. Only mildly, fading out just as quickly, causing only a dash of concern that still managed to be the catalyst for Uraume’s excusal from the two they had been in charge of overseeing.
The reunion between father and son must have gone well, yes?
Unable to resist, Uraume skirted their way around the property, seeking out the tsuridono their master had previously been meditating within. The two were bound to be there, either in an entangled mess or in a formal position of address. Uraume would, amusingly, find it to be the latter upon shuffling their way closer.
A single peek into the pavilion revealed a peculiar sight. One that evoked a memory from many months ago, in which the young master had earned himself the privilege of being bound into his father’s lap. His head was wrapped in two of his father’s hands, most certainly in the midst of a headlock just moments prior before the boy had seemingly passed out, causing Sukuna to relinquish his grip and everything to fall into a less hostile position as a result. One could easily describe the scene as peaceful if the prior context had not swayed their judgment. Between father and son, such oppositional antics were expected. Sato stood expectantly against Sukuna’s side, getting as close as he could to the young master without jumping up and demanding that he be able to wiggle his fury body between them in search of praise. In his mind, he was the one who had brought Yuji home.
“He was about to regale me with the tale of his victory.” Their master had immediately caught Uraume’s arrival. His voice may carry annoyance, but the upward curl of a growing smirk held the truth to his heart. “And explain the presence of not one, but two additional guests within my home, beg for what tragedy befell Hiten… But the brat passed out as soon as I got ahold of him.”
“I do not believe he has rested since the battle.”
With so much to do and so little time to enact it before the binding vow demanded to be fulfilled, Uraume could easily picture the young master running on the remnants of his battle high to keep him going. His endeavors were not over until he found his way home, regardless of how the means came to be should his sensei’s method fail him. And with two others now in the mix…The first time he was off his feet, the rest of his body collapsed as he no longer had to support its weight.
“That would explain it.”
“The young master is home.” To speak the obvious, while unnecessary, brought immense elation within Uraume’s core. Declaring the words they had wished so long to present only enforced the truth further.
“He brought his inseparable shield with him.” Sukuna must be referring to his overbearing brother. Choso’s presence had not been accounted for, but Yuji was right in stating that nothing had been put in place to prevent the Kamo from returning. “And another…”
“That would be Fushiguro Megumi.”
“The boy-thing.”
“I had already made that tease when they arrived.” Uraume raised a sleeve over their mouth, chuckling as their master rolled his eyes. A gentle hand cupped his son’s head as he did so. So long as he was careful and his movements remained slow, he could rub a thumb through Yuji’s hair without waking him up.
His son had succeeded in his battle, retrieved the one he desperately sought to save, and returned within the expected time his father allotted before pursuing the young master’s trail. Pride, as reluctant as their master would be to admit it aloud, shown through in every breath Sukuna took.
“The Ten Shadows… As much as I look forward to meeting someone whom I thought was out of my reach, I suspect our eventual meeting will not be a cordial one.”
“The boy is here for Yuji-sama’s sake. Their debts now in reverse.” Uraume could not find fault in this outcome. While another presence within the estate would impact how their time was spent and add another mouth to feed, the thought of eternal separation between souls so strongly bonded was not a fate they wished upon them. Considering all that the young master had sacrificed, this boon was deserved. “He would be foolish to seek a fight when there is no need for one.”
“There will be a need for one, but I will acknowledge their right to recover before I demand witness to the Zenin's prized technique.” Their master must have caught Uraume’s sigh. A playful one, but one nonetheless, which brought a sudden hand to sweep them off the ground. They were to balance themselves on their master’s other knee, joining him as they looked across the pond and embraced the warm breeze flowing overhead. “I will not be invoking my counterpart’s use of the boy, nor do I seek his end. I am merely curious. There is no fault in that.”
“None at all, Sukuna-sama.” A soft chuckle snuck out just as Uraume reached for Yuji’s face to brush his bangs away from his brow. It was surreal, in a way, to see the young master over a year later with little change in appearance. Fortunately, that was a good thing, as no further scarring had yet to be seen. “The wait… It is over.”
“It is. And now a whole new wave of nonsense has crashed upon my steps. I will leave the brat and his brother to deal with the Kamo clan’s persistent inquiries and what more may follow once word of a Ten Shadow User clinging at his heels makes its way to the Zenin clan. The estate will no longer know peace.”
Uraume had learned to loathe the quiet that came with peace.
“You speak as if you are not looking forward to what your son’s return may bring.”
Through the sliver of space between where they sat and their master’s stomach, Uraume could see Sukuna’s second mouth sporting a pursed-lip smile.
“As long as it remains interesting.”
At this rate, Interesting was guaranteed.
An eventful future surely awaited them, and it was astonishing to think that all they had to look forward to came about through the unexpected discovery of a boy. A piece that had unknowingly been missing. This was the first of many threads that Yuji would naturally corral into his father’s life and, by extension, Uraume’s as well.
“I have no doubt, Sukuna-sama.”
Notes:
I made it! <3
I am finally on holiday, thus I can edit this monster chapter and finally see it posted! Future edits to come, as always, but as of right now, I can rest easy and enjoy the celebrations knowing this is complete.Thank you everyone for the kindness you have expressed. I will be taking some time near the end of the week to clear out my inbox, and I cannot wait to engage with you all. <3 This story has been an important endeavor to me, and I truly wish you all a lovely rest of the year.
-The use of Future/Canon Uraume's POV was my sneaky way of giving us a glimpse of how Yuji was doing in his era without breaking the Uraume-only POV rule I have for the main story. I am very sorry, but I do not want to write the entire end battle, as I think just enough would stay the same that or that I would personally reflect a lot of canon's events with a new twist that, for me, it would be repetitive. I will say that during the mini-trial inside of Higuruma's domain, Sukuna asks Yuji where he got ahold of Hiten. And Yuji 100% responds in ancient Japanese with "Wouldn't you like to know?"
-Past Uraume & Future/Canon Uraume can at least bond over wanting to stab Kenjaku through the head. The rest, not so much. Past Uraume would eat their counterpart alive.
-I COULD NOT MISS the opportunity to have Kenjaku and Tengen be present in the same place. Old friends/enemies are just really fun to write. Tengen is a master at deflating egos, goes so far as to brag over how much Yuji spoke to her compared to his willingness to engage with Kenjaku haha. She'll hold that over his head for at least a couple centuries.
-Sukuna being soft to Uraume gives me joy. First, using his cloak as a blanket as a sign of "I know you did your best" when returning to kick out the unwanted relatives invading his home and then putting the blossoms in Uraume's hair later like Yuji did is so precious. He isn't one to talk about his feelings all the time, but he does his best! <3 Sidenote, the epilogue bonus we got involving these two made me so happy I wanna melt and freeze, then melt again.
-Yorozu! She just had to make one more appearance! Consoling Uraume and being a chaotic gremlin while doing so just felt kind of right? I enjoy expressing agency within characters, so having Yorozu's obsession with Sukuna not hinder her search for love in other places felt right as well. Also, her type being the 'depressed bad(?) boy' was too silly to pass up. It is certainly a crack ship, but one I thought was fitting for the energy of the scene. Her thoughts were "inappropriate use of cursed techniques" and Uraume was having enough of it.
-Uraume running excitedly to see their young master tackled by not-so-little Sato (the pup got bigger!) felt like a very cinematic way to transition into their reunion. Is that the right word? Yuji brought with him supplies this time, and some friends as well! Like, come on, of course he would! Best big brother would never leave his side (and as some of you correctly guessed, all the extra training kept him alive in the final fight! I am biased, and I will not apologize) and as for Megumi, Yuji is his reason for fighting back against Sukuna. Megumi wanted a future with Yuji, so to have Yuji leave so suddenly... He was not letting that happen. I'll be exploring all of this in the omake + Kugisaki will be present too!
-Yuji switches to Fushiguro when Megumi is around... haha.
Ok, so, the boyfriend/boy-friend teasing is all part of this long multifold joke which includes the mistaken assumption Yuji was married then later that Megumi was his boy-lover thing, Kenjaku mentioning that Yuji is being treated a bit more like a princess than a prince, and the fact that Heian noble men generally moved in with their wives upon marriage, thus, Yuji bringing Megumi home is the equivalent of bringing his husband home. NOW! This fic is not tagged ItaFushi, as this whole thing can be played off as my overly complex sense of humor which allowed Yuji's 'parents' to tease him as parents do and that is it, or it can be read as something more for those who wish it. Either way, Yuji and Megumi and ride or die for each other, and I find amusement in both readings. <3
-Future Sukuna broke Hiten... RIP
-Sukuna put Yuji in the same grip as he did during the time he taught Yuji how to use Furnace. Someone called it in the comments, regarding the scene of Yuji collapsing once in sukuna's arms. It just... all felt right. I think, when you know it feels right, that scenes or events just flow together, and it all makes sense, reaching a level of catharsis in the end, I think that is when I can find solace in how the ending turned out. The whole family is together. I'm so happy we made it this far, and beyond proper words to truly express it.Thank you all so much for reading! See you in the omake! Stay well until then! <3
Chapter 18: Where Had He Expected His Older Brother To Venture, If Not By His Side?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“Sukuna is my father. Isn’t that crazy—Choso!”
Choso lurched forward as his lower body fell into shock. His mind fared no better. Struggling to process his little brother’s words, the attempt to associate the King of Curses as anything beyond a bane to Yuji’s existence that required stamping out was a nigh impossible feat.
The subject of family, since Choso’s conception, had been… a complicated one. Blood relation and the bonds it created and those who would hijack those bonds for morbid experimentation, all of it was a difficult thing to grasp. All Choso possessed were the faintest memories of his mother’s gentle voice to guide him. To soothe him. To still praise the miracle of his creation despite the curses responsible for her life cut so terribly short— His ‘father’s’ words offered nothing but critique and disappointment. Callous and distant. He may have usurped Choso’s family, but that did not make him a part of it. Kamo Noritoshi— Kenjaku —would have none of his loyalty. Nor his concern. And certainly not his love. That thing who had stolen the lives of his mother, his brothers, and the formidable woman Choso had only begun to connect with… It only knew how to take and discard.
Surely, the King of Curses was no different.
Why else would those two converge to carry out such a devastating scheme?
It was Kenjaku who crafted the vessel for Ryomen Sukuna without any regard for the soul that already resided within. Choso’s ‘father’ had brought his youngest creation into a lifetime of suffering and found little reason to care after that role was no longer required. Ryomen Sukuna took that vessel and repeatedly tore through him, shredding and carving each and every piece with malicious glee. That curse used Yuji’s body to slaughter without restraint. He had already killed him once, something Choso had learned through the rare moment of weakness his little brother had permitted himself to show around him. And now, while free from Ryomen Sukuna’s direct control over his body, the price came at the cost of the very person who had begged for Yuji’s help in saving someone who had already been lost to them.
And now, that very curse responsible for tormenting Yuji in the most intimate and disgusting way was claiming fatherhood. It was not a simple matter of describing their genetic or spiritual ties, something Choso had not thought to be possible but would accept the logic behind a vessel made with the parasite in mind. No, the Ryomen Sukuna of this era had decided to stake his claim publicly. In this era, Yuji held a title that was derivative of his so-called father’s. The Prince of Curses. He had been given clothes to wear and a new language to speak, expected to grow skills the nobility prided and to train the Cursed Technique that had been etched within his body with the King to watch over his progress. This summary of events worked to explain why the King’s most loyal servant stood amicably by Yuji’s side.
Uraume had heeded Yuji’s orders to dismiss their ice. They spoke to him, with him, showing care in their words and fondness in their expression. Witnessing the way Uraume dared to touch him had brought further unease. And now Yuji had put his faith in this servant to lead them somewhere private and away from the eyes of witnesses? To Ryomen Sukuna, no less! All of this nauseating change had occurred over impossible months when, to Choso, so little time had passed. They had been separated for just over a day. A day! So much can occur in twenty-four hours, but this cascade of shocking events was not what many would picture when claiming as such.
Once again, he had left his brother to fend for himself alone.
And while Yuji was quick to state that Choso could not blame himself, for he had no control over the enigmatic connection between their home and this place they now stood within, his brother’s words did not change the guilt within Choso’s heart. He should have been by his brother’s side. The lack of physical markers did not mean that his brother had gone unharmed all these months. All he could rely on was his brother’s willingness to share in his trials. Yet, instead, Yuji insisted on boasting about the small beast that had a habit of making sure he stood between Yuji and Choso at all times. This Sato was not a terrible creature. He held his ground well, and if it were anyone else, Choso would have praised him.
The doubt in Choso’s heart spoke volumes, insisting that the stark contrast in the demeanor he had expected from Ryomen Sukuna’s servant would not be found in the master they served. Yuji spoke very little beyond his rage and contempt. The closest he held to a positive emotion regarding that curse he bore so long was undeserved pity. Thus, Choso anticipated this Ryomen Sukuna to be far worse. Full of falsehood and trickery to earn this casual air, unless his brother’s mind had been coerced by simpler means of threat to keep him in line.
“They’re different.” Yuji shrugged as the subject of his beast’s acquisition brought their conversation back around to the one responsible for bringing them together. “I mean, Sukuna is still Sukuna; he’s cruel and dangerous, but he’s also more than that. At least he is figuring out how to be. He actually listens to me when I talk. That’s more than anything that other Sukuna has ever done.”
This Ryomen Sukuna had given his brother a home. Gifts of trinkets and lessons to further his knowledge. As the stories grew, it became clear that significant investment had been placed in Yuji. He showed favor, not in his suffering, but in his growth. Was that all there was to it?
“You don’t have to like it. I sure didn’t at first. Actually, it pissed me off, being claimed as his kid out of nowhere, and now suddenly he's bragging to others like anything I’ve done is something he can take credit for!” Recalling an event Choso could only picture, he let his brother sigh and wave off his own frustration to continue on with his appeal. “It’s been a lot. Like, I’m so happy to finally have someone else to talk to about this because wait until I tell you— The point is, we’ve found this weird middle ground, and I’m not mad about it. I think it’s a good thing. So, play along for just a little bit, ok?”
“I will do my best. But if either of them shows signs of hurting you, I will not stand by and watch.”
Choso could not approve of this development. Not yet. He would honor Yuji’s request for the time being, embracing the need for caution in the areas where his little brother faltered. Whatever it took to ensure that their departure from this odd time and place would be without unnecessary complication.
At least, that was the plan.
Vertigo threatened to take hold as the light faded from Choso’s eyes. Just as jarring as the first time he’d leapt through the tear between worlds, it took mustering all of his constitution to avoid releasing the contents of his stomach upon stumbling over broken concrete. Yuji appeared to be enduring just as well as he, fumbling a bit in shock after not taking Choso’s previous warning all that seriously.
“Wha —ITADORI!?”
Choso forced his eyes open, adjusting to the obscenely bright twilight filtering through the disheveled buildings that surrounded them. What he first made out was the presence of a single teenager who had made a spot for himself amongst the rubble with a few drinks and snacks littered nearby. He wore a tiny cap on his head, registering as something familiar in Choso’s mind. He should know who this boy was. He was one of the few who shared Choso’s faith in his little brother’s survival. What was his name…?
“R-Rin?” Yuji recognized him first, recalling his name despite being absent in this era longer. One could easily state that it was because he simply knew the boy longer, but Choso knew that his brother was just the kind of person to keep another in mind. Thankfully, the mention of his surname jogged the memory of the given one.
“You’re alive!” The teenager, Amai, went in for a celebratory hug. However, they were not all that close, leaving enough room for awkward air to snake its way between them. Instead of a hug, Yuji received a couple of pats on his shoulder and a pair of wide eyes staring anxiously at the weapon on his little brother's back. Only then did Amai start to take note of the subtle differences failing to align with his memory. “I figured you weren’t dead. Too tough and all that. But, uh, what’s with…?”
“I’ll explain it later. First,” With palms flushed together, Yuji lowered his head and pleaded. “Please tell me where the nearest bathroom is.”
“T-there’s a bathhouse down the road that’s still running.”
“Even better!” A cheer rang out. Following that was the sudden grip on Choso’s arm. His little brother pointed down the road, confirming the direction while dragging Choso with him in his search. “We’ll be right back.”
“Yeah, that’s— I’ll call everyone and let them know you’re alive!”
Yuji threw a thumbs up Amai’s way before dashing off. Excitement grew as he ran, culminating in a giant, heavy sigh of relief once he flew past the doors to a locale that had once been considered lost to him. The most mundane things left him hollering with glee. Running water along with all the soaps, scrubs, and anything else he could ask for. And what would a visit to a bathhouse be if one didn’t head straight for the bath? If they would ever reach, considering his little brother caught himself underneath the steaming shower a bit too long, requiring the scalding water to force him to jump back once he’d realized that he had been overzealous in adjusting the temperature. Any tears that came next were not of pain, but joy.
Evidently, they would not be heading ‘right back’ anytime soon.
Choso understood his enthusiasm well. He would not seek to quell it. With their time so limited, following Yuji’s impulse to jump right into the outdoor onsen as if it were no different than a swimming pool felt right. Maybe not to the same degree, considering there were perfectly good stairs to take, but regardless, his little brother was beyond happy.
“The estate needs this.” Yuji tossed his head back, arms stretched over his head. “The pond can become an ice rink in the winter, but not an onsen. There are still fish that live there.”
“Would you heat it up yourself?” Just as Uraume turned water solid, Choso could picture Yuji placing his flames haphazardly near a source of water in the hopes of heating it within.
“I don’t see why not. Maybe I can convince him to have a really big wooden tub built…”
Being the only occupants, interruptions did not occur. It became difficult to gauge how long they had spent soaking. Initial swimming had become a lazy float along the natural current within the bath. Choso chose to stabilize himself by sitting along the edge. He could never quite doze off, but enough of his mind had eased that the unmistakable appearance of his little brother’s instructor standing fully clothed by the edge of the bath caught him a bit off guard. His sudden flinch caused ripples in otherwise tranquil waters, though his brother would not take notice of it.
The man responsible for the disturbance raised a lax finger over his mouth, a silent request for Choso to remain silent as he continued his approach toward the center of the pool where his little brother lay.
“Yo!”
Despite cupping a hand over his mouth to project his greeting, Yuji did not hear him. His little brother’s ears appeared to be submerged, forcing his instructor to walk over the water and squat a few centimeters directly over Yuji’s chest. The surreal sight did not stop there, as soon a hand would extend to flick Yuji’s nose and cause him to flail about out of shock.
“C-Choso! Why would you—G-GOJO-SENSEI!?” Said man did not get him with a single retaliatory splash with his cursed technique in full force. Yuji could only take this as proof that his eyes were not deceiving him, leaving him fighting for what he should say out of the many thoughts swirling around his head. Eventually, one would settle. “How did you… When did— It’s… It’s good to see you.”
His little brother’s words could not be understated. The wetness of Yuji’s eyes would have been more prominent if not for all the steam, and his stance continued to shift about in the water, unable to decide if he should risk pulling the man in close or remain where he was. Jolted nerves kept Yuji from landing one way or another.
“You act like it hasn’t been a day since— Ah. So that’s what happened.” It was not shocking to see Gojo picking up on the subtlety of his student’s body language. Grown-out hair. Choice of phrase. He may act flippant or ignorant to others' reactions— predominantly the negative —but there was always something between these two in the little time Choso had to observe that gave way to depth. It also helped that the subject of time dilation was most likely a familiar one. The man did not speak of his time being sealed away, but with one of the prevailing questions being that of the concept of time within the cube, their experiences may not be so far off. “How long were you gone? You don’t look much older… No missing birthdays?”
“Missing birthdays? I was only gone a few months, but the math… Am I sixteen now?” Yuji gripped his chin as the three paused to do some quick math. It took Choso a moment to realize he had never inquired on his brother’s birthday. The subject had not come up between them, but given how Gojo thought to suggest it, and Yuji was considering it, then he must have been born a month or two into next year. Either way, Choso would not learn the answer until later, as it was unimportant to the story he had to share. “We can figure it out later. After the domain clash, I ended up a thousand years in the past. Time travel is real, but it’s the weird multiple dimension slash parallel timeline kind.”
“Neat.” The literal, universe-tearing revelation did not phase Gojo one bit. His eyes were already shifting to the trishula resting on a towel by the water’s edge. “And I see you got a nice pointy stick out of this fantastical journey.”
“It was a gift from… my dad.”
Now, that got more of a reaction from him. It was enough for Gojo to nod, contemplating his thoughts as he retreated to the edge of the pool and sat down in a more comfortable position. Yuji instinctually followed, while Choso only had to scoot a bit closer to remain in earshot.
“You’re dad?” Gojo now had his palms together, fingers pointed at Yuji. At the same time, his eyes squinted in mild confusion. No one would expect to find their parent one thousand years prior in another timeline, but they have also encountered stranger things. “Not your actual dad, right?”
“I mean, technically, if we only count how babies are traditionally made… But with whatever Kenjaku did to create me, Sukuna may as well be considered a third wheel like with Choso—”
“Sukuna is your— You were with him?”
“—And Tengen is also my grandma!” Yuji raised the pointer finger of each hand to gesture at Gojo. Perhaps the act was meant to bring levity, but his own uncertainty on how to take the news he shared hindered the confidence in the delivery. “Kind of, that’s complicated too, actually. There’s a history between them that’s like, really touchy to bring up.”
“And Kenjaku is still your mom?” A quick eye over to Choso was done in search of confirmation. There was no reason not to nod along, as the truth could not be altered.
“Unfortunately. But only by body-possessing my biological mom. I joked about calling Yorozu my mom, but that was just to piss off Sukuna cause she’s a bit obsessive, and his face is hilarious. Besides, if anyone is going to take the mom title, it would be Ura… Uh, Sensei?”
“Huh.” The man had since lowered his head, not by much, but by just enough to permit him time to process what absurd things he had heard. “So you’ve been with Sukuna— A past, alternate version of Sukuna —this whole time… playing house? Is he like a saint or something in that universe?”
Absolutely not.
“No, he’s still more or less—Sukuna and Uraume-san found me after I landed in their era. Instead of killing me on the spot, he saw my hair, felt the weird connection we share, and chose to take responsibility for the kid he thought he made…” Yuji began to summarize the same take he’d told Choso once already. How he had been dragged into the depths of his father’s estate and had to discover means of communication with people he had once seen as mortal enemies. He went on about the title he had been given, the people he had met, and the many clashes between those who walked the grounds of a place he had started to consider home. A notion that even left himself baffled, as the Yuji from yesterday would not have shared any of the same sentiments. “And then, I finally got him to agree to let me come back, and he demands that we stay one more month to train. I thought that was a great idea. It’s like the time chamber, right?”
Before Gojo could answer, Yuji’s face darkened.
“Wrong. The time chamber doesn’t have the King of Curses opening his domain every morning, getting progressively worse each time—Do you know how many I have had to survive?”
“More than the average person?”
“That— That statement is not incorrect!” Fed up with the reality of what he had endured, Yuji fell back into the water, uncaring how large of a splash he made.
“What a day you’ve had. And we thought Ui-Ui’s technique was already cheating enough to get everyone prepared for this fight. Now you’ve gone and learned the secret strategies from Sukuna directly.”
“My little brother has been working diligently to surpass every barrier in his way. He would not allow himself to rest until he was satisfied, much to the rest of our displeasure.” Choso chimed in, thinking of how annoyed Uraume had been while they stood and watched Yuji lumber about in pain. Even the boy’s proclaimed father intervened, much to Choso’s shock. There was no use in dying now, he had said. Train properly and die later if Yuji must, but it would be insulting if he did so on these very grounds against an enemy that was not his own.
“The other part of the agreement was that I have to return to the Heian Era when all this is over. It isn’t the best plan, but I also think that if I stay with Sukuna, I can make a difference. That I can change his mind to see the world in another light…” Yuji had sounded hopeful. Almost passionate. He wanted to make the most of his decision, yet he understood the consequences that came with the vow he had made. The people he would have to leave behind once more. “Gojo-sensei, I’m… I’m sorry I can’t be a part of your dream for the future you’ve been talking about. I want to be, but I gave my word. You… You know how binding vows are.”
His brother attempted to recoil. Guilt was not easily suppressed. Even after doing all he could within his power, Yuji would not accept that there wasn’t more he could have accomplished. If there was another way home, one that did not end in broken bonds and bloodshed, Choso could not fathom it. And as for Gojo, well, the man just shrugged.
“It's not just your burden. Putting the weight of the world onto one person doesn’t seem like a sustainable plan anyway. That’s not what I want from any of you.” Gojo grabbed his little brother’s head and rubbed his wet hair, smirking at the half-assed attempt Yuji made to get him to cease. “Yuji-kun is guiding the future in his own way. The famous Prince of Curses and his strange, alien ways of thinking. You must be a menace there!”
“I’m not—” Yuji pouted before amending his retort. ”I could be worse!”
“I knew it!” A laugh rang out, echoing through the bathhouse. “Just having you here, even for a little bit, is already more than enough. You didn’t have to come back. It sounds to me like everything was just starting to settle into place. I’d never expect to hear you talk about any time spent with Sukuna and that lackey of his with a smile on your face.”
“I owe it to everyone to see this through to the end. Especially to you and Fushiguro, and I think I owe it to myself. Even if I got everything I wanted and had everything I could ever need to be happy where I was, I don’t think I could close my eyes at night without thinking about how all this went down. What happened to everyone? Did he ever…” Thoughts that had plagued him for so long resurfaced. Questions that he would finally know the answer to, living each moment alongside those he had worried so much over. Yet, it was not yet time. The day of their battle drew near, but not near enough. To strike himself once more with uncertainty would only be maddening; thus, Yuji let the subject be. He had something else to address first. “Sensei? Can we… not talk about this to everyone else? The deal I made, I tried to hide it from Choso because I can’t handle saying goodbye, but he figured it out and insisted on coming back with me.”
His little brother turned to him with his tongue stuck out, yet not a single bit of displeasure could be found on his face. Where had he expected his older brother to venture, if not by his side? What other ties were there beyond a clan that had denounced the only member Choso had learned to respect. Family should stick together. They must. No amount of risk or uncertainty would change that.
“As for everyone else, I can’t… I don’t want it to weigh over their heads.”
“But will that keep it from weighing over your head?”
“I…”
Gojo wasn’t wrong to ask, as Choso had confronted him with the same concern when he’d figured out the deal his little brother had made. His burdens, his regrets, were not his to shoulder alone.
At the same time, his sensei would respect his wishes.
“For Yuji-kun, I will follow your lead. But as your sensei, I strongly suggest that you at least consider saying goodbye before you go. Despite all the brave faces everyone is putting on, your absence really killed morale.”
Without a bit of tact, that was Gojo’s way of stating that Yuji was missed.
“I’m sorry.”
“And you should be! All the pressure just went up, Choso was crying his head off, and Yuta kept apologizing, thinking it was his fault—” This was not a reprimand, but an over-dramatic retelling. A comedic attempt that failed to quell his little brother’s melancholy. “But, Yuji-kun’s here now. Now use dwelling on the past thirty-six-ish hours.”
A hand with fingers splayed apart was the next solution the man had come up with. An invitation for Yuji to do the same, their hands colliding, leaving the teenager a bit more invigorated than before. The mention of his senior happened to spark something, leading to Yuji summoning the blue flames of his newly mastered Cursed Technique in front of his instructor’s eyes.
“I have something Okkotsu-senpai might be interested in.”
There was a curt pause, then immediate glee, as both understood that Yuji’s understanding of Shrine played a large role in just how much his senior could do with it while Rika still possessed his little brother’s finger within her gullet. Gojo had been the first one to suggest that Shrine would have been carved into Yuji’s very being upon possession. Now, here stood further proof that Yuji could do more than mimic the faintest cuts onto whatever surface he touched.
Yuji hoisted himself out of the water, signaling that their time soaking had come to an end. First, a towel to wrap around his waist was grabbed, then another to dry his hair which meant Hiten no longer had a dry place to sit.
“Oh, uh… Gojo-sensei, I have a question.”
“Shoot.”
“It’s about… Ten-sa—Tengen-sama she…” Yuji shook his head and quickly dried his hair as a means to reset himself. “She asked about the merger. Or, what I mean is, she figured out that it failed in our time. She also said that the Six Eyes and her are tied together, so I was wondering… You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.”
It was his brother who had pointed out the blood stains outside of Tengen’s inner sanctum. It was when everything had become distorted…
“It’s not a happy story.” That was all Gojo had to say.
At least, that was what Choso had first assumed.
The man soon stopped in his tracks, just outside the doors back inside the main building. With his head tilted back and eyes pointed toward the sky, he appeared to be caught up in thought. This went on long enough for Yuji to grow concerned, ready to apologize and move on, only for the man to close his eyes and sigh.
“There was a girl who was meant to be the next star plasma vessel. When I was a student about your age, I was assigned as one of her guards to keep her safe before the merger with Tengen could happen. We failed her. Not Tengen, but Riko, the girl who had decided that she wanted to live her own life separate from all this crap. Everything has fumbled around playing normal since.” It was not the most descriptive tale, but Yuji appreciated it nonetheless.
“I found out, after Ten-sama left, that Sukuna’s mother was a star plasma vessel. I wonder if she met the Six-Eyes back then.”
“Probably. The Six-Eyes and the vessels are connected. Don’t ask me how or why.” Gojo looked at Yuji, hands crossed behind his head, embracing his lax posture. “And now look at this old man thinking he can keep history from repeating itself.”
“You did save me. And we’re going to save Fushiguro.” Yuji pumped both his fists, ready for what trials lie ahead. “Whatever it takes.
“Whatever it takes. Oh, the optimism of youth.” As amusing as it was to hear that come from a man who often acted quite childish, what stopped Choso from rolling his eyes was the look they shared right over Yuji’s head. Was that a moment of thanks? Relief? Whatever it was, the flash of emotional weakness became lost as the man began making swipes for the weapon in Yuji’s hands. “You’ll let me hold that at least once, will you? Take it for a spin? Can I wield it when I go to face off against Sukuna?”
“No way!” Yuji jumped to the side, preventing Gojo’s poor attempts from succeeding. “Hiten doesn’t like you.”
“Yuji-kun, I’m hurt!”
“Hiten doesn’t like most people. Barely tolerates me at times.” The two shared a laugh as Yuji ran ahead through the changing room, quick to gather the rest of his things, unaware of who else was waiting outside to welcome him home.
“We found all the pieces, right?” Yuji stopped in the middle of the hallway, checking through his bags again as he’d already forgotten which obvious one held the pieces of Hiten they had gathered after the battle. The clattering of metal should have been a key, but his nerves were lit. Emotions ran high, even if his little brother refused to show it.
These were the last moments within the Gojo estate. The last hours in the era of his birth. The final chance for goodbyes, he still had trouble speaking. It was better to leave when most others were in recovery. Fast asleep and relieved to see the next day, the news of Yuji’s departure would be told through the sorcerer assistant whom Yuji respected dearly. He had left a note under his door to explain himself. The man would understand.
“Yes. We checked the area three times over. And then a fourth just to be safe.”
“Good.” Yuji nodded, eyes peering into the open sack in his hands to be absolutely certain. “I did not survive all of this just to go back and get killed over a weapon he gave me. It wasn’t even my fault! Sukuna can blame himself for being such a petty bastard.”
“And that will be understood.” Choso really hoped that would be the case. If not his little brother’s proclaimed father, then Uraume’s level-headed word would surely prevent immediate retaliation.
With that, Yuji pulled the drawstring back tight and hoisted it over his shoulder, landing beside the rest of the things that he had deemed he would not live without. This chance to return to his time permitted him to pack a few luxuries he had long since missed. Narrowing the necessities and balancing the two, however, had taken a bit longer. Choso wasn’t exactly sure what he or his little brother would require. Thus, he followed Yuji’s lead when packing his own things. Two hands, shoulders, and a back between them meant that quite a lot could be brought if they put in the effort.
“If only we had enough time to track down the Hiten of this era. We could swap them out, and maybe he wouldn’t know the difference!”
“I believe Hiten is a bit more personable than most Cursed Tools.” Choso could only imagine the trouble that would come if Yuji lied about Hiten’s fate. It would be best not to test Ryomen Sukuna’s attachment to his prized weapons and the prized son who had been entrusted with him.
“Yeah, but—”
“You’re leaving?”
Yuji’s voice hitched at the sound of another. One that sent immediate panic, as his little brother had gone out of his way to avoid this person more than anyone else when preparing to depart. His classmate and dear companion, Fushiguro Megumi, had been the driving force behind Yuji’s desire to continue his fight on the days he could not go on solely for himself. The boy he missed so much. The one who embodied all of his regret and guilt—
“Fushiguro.” It was all Yuji could say. What was he to do? Deny the obvious?
“You’re going back to the Heian Era. Back to him.” Megumi was not one to lose his composure easily. Even now, the anger found in his words was forced down as his voice fought to keep steady.
“Well, you know. I gotta return Hiten or what is left of it and pray Sukuna doesn’t throttle me when he catches sight of the bag.” His little brother attempted to laugh off the very real threat Sukuna posed in his friend’s mind.
“You already spent months stuck with him.” A lot had been inferred from his memories of the battle, leaving Yuji to explain the rest to Megumi when he’d woken up. Every iteration of the story grew shorter. His struggles were trivialized. And often, Yuji would hand wave entire portions to avoid going through the emotional toll of it all. It was easier to laugh and just accept that it was just another thing that had happened and nothing more. But Megumi wasn’t buying it. “You found a way to get back here, but you didn’t just run off. He gave you that weapon because he knew you were going to return it. He knew you were going to come back to him and… What? That’s it? This is the last time anyone here is ever going to see you again?”
The act of sneaking around revealed Yuji’s intentions. Brazeningly lying to their faces would have likely resulted in the same outcome. Neither was ideal.
“It’s for the best. Everyone gets what they want. I got to come back, kick this Sukuna’s ass and make things right. The Sukuna who calls me his family, the one who I think I have a chance to get through to, he gets his son back. It all works out.” Yuji had attempted to turn around, intent on leaving before he had to justify himself further.
“But what about what I want?”
Only Choso could see the way his little brother’s jaw tightened. How his eyes fell to the ground, yet his posture remained tall and firm. He did not want to show weakness in the path he’d already been set on taking. To let himself falter now—
“You don’t just get to show up, talk about how lonely you are without me, and then disappear again! Was that all a lie?” Megumi charged forward, refusing to allow Yuji a chance to get away. “Did you just say that to motivate me to try so that you could save me and wipe your hands of all this?”
“No, Fushiguro— I would never lie to you about that!”
“Then why are you leaving me behind?” From invading his space to putting his hands on Yuji, Choso watched as Megumi grabbed hold of his little brother’s jacket and yanked him back. The need to intervene made itself known, but Choso would not act on it. Not yet. “Why are you taking on all these burdens by yourself again.”
“I didn’t think you would want to be around them again.” Yuji attempted to pull his classmate off, but Megumi’s grip remained strong.
“I can handle it.”
“But you don’t have to.”
“I want to. I will survive because there is someone who needs me to.” Megumi’s words drew Yuji to finally look at eyes adamant on staying where they were. He needed Yuji to understand that waking up from that nightmare his life had embodied did not leave him fragile. “Whatever is going on between you and that other Sukuna, however strange it is, I will manage. I’d sleep better knowing what you’ve gotten yourself into. That you’re… That you’re living the life you’re content with and that Sukuna yields to that.”
“I just… I missed you so much.” No longer would Yuji pull away. “Every time I closed my eyes, I cursed myself for making such a stupid deal. I didn’t think—I didn’t know he would take you— It shouldn’t have been you. And then everything else that happened after… Tsumiki, I’m so sorry—”
Megumi was the first to initiate their hug. He began to wrap his arms around, slow and full of consideration, only to be tackled by his classmate, who could easily cry enough for both of them.
“I know.” Even he was not immune to reciprocating such a heavy embrace. The two would stand awkwardly for a time, only breaking as Megumi took an interest in the bags now at Yuji’s feet. His eyes glanced over at what Choso held as well, and he did a bit of calculations to guess what each one held. “You’re bringing… some clothes. What else?
“What else?” Yuji tilted his head, confused by the sudden shift in their conversation.
“Did you pack any food or drinks? What about spices or recipe cards?”
“I, uh, have a couple—”
“What other goods did you pack? Quality of life goods? And I feel your phone in your pocket. You know that there isn’t electricity to charge it there.” Yuji’s classmate was not above snooping through their bags, scrutinizing some of the things that may take up more space than they were worth. After all, many of the things Yuji wished to bring back were in a finite quantity or held the possibility of breaking. Rationing usage would be important.
“I know that!” Yuji was quick to bring out a charging bank for his phone, intending on granting it a few extra days of life upon returning to his father’s estate. “I brought some bathing things, utensils, a proper pillow—”
“You know, some people are trying to get their beauty sleep.”
“Kugisaki!”
Yuji’s face lit up upon spinning around, taken aback by the sudden appearance of the third piece to the first-year student trio. In contrast to her comment, Kugisaki Nobara was in no way dressed for a long night tucked in bed. Yet as she marched forward, faking a large yawn as if she had not planned to follow after her peers. An all-knowing eye flickered between the three currently taking up the entirety of the hall. Without thinking, Megumi’s confrontation led to Yuji presuming that she was here with the same intentions.
“Are you coming with us too?”
“Hell no.” Nobara’s rejection of the idea was harsh and immediate. It was enough for Yuji to jump and awkwardly chuckle at his question while piecing together the reasoning for her response.
“Oh, right, cause of how things were back then for women—”
But his little brother was wrong again. Nobara shook her head, cutting him off as she pressed a finger against Yuji’s chest, and her other hand remained balanced against her hip.
“Let’s be clear: I’d thrive in any era with people worshipping the ground I walk on. But I have things to do here. There’s an annoying dead man’s wish hovering over my head, plus someone has to keep things steady. So you don’t have to feel bad about going, no apologizing. You came back and finished things, which is more than anyone would have asked of you.” Nobara’s expression softened after that. Her rough attitude smoothed over as she gave a fond, almost melancholic look. “Just don’t get yourself killed again. You’ve already kicked one Sukuna’s ass, so just do it again if things go sideways.”
“Dying is not part of the plan.”
“Good! Live a little while you’re there. Embrace the whole Prince of Curses thing. History books better know your name.”
“I’ll try my best!”
Her encouragement earned a salute from his little brother. One full of newfound vigor that Nobara could only smirk and nod in delight at. Yuji, however, was not the only one getting demands thrown his way. The boy beside him would not be let go so easily, as Nobara was already reaching out and dragging him close for a second, giving him a truly complete hug now that all three were together again.
“And that goes for you, too, Fushiguro. Find some way to make the most of everything that comes your way. Do whatever would make Tsumiki proud. I’ll keep bringing flowers to her on your behalf.”
“You don’t have to.” A bit flustered by her words, nothing Megumi could say would keep Nobara from staying true to them.
“Yeah, I know. God, not to be hypocritical, but I hate these kinds of goodbyes. Too sappy.” Yet, she remained hypocritical as her voice lowered and a far more threatening glare overtook Nobara’s face. “I would have cursed both of you with my Straw Doll Technique if you guys had left without speaking to me. One nail in the head each would have done the trick.”
“We’re glad you’re not doing that?”
“Y-yeah…”
The two boys glanced at each other, a sigh of relief between them as they wondered if Nobara would have managed to strike against them before they escaped to the past or if her Cursed Technique could transcend the barrier between worlds. Neither possibility required an answer, and they were just glad that it was more than likely that it would remain that way.
“Anyway.” Nobara lightly clapped her hands, careful to whisper her orders so as to avoid anyone else joining the growing party outside the guest rooms. “Let’s get Fushiguro all packed and we can head out. There has to be at least one konbini on the way to your space-time rift that has some decent snacks and hair care products.”
“Do you think I could print my photos?” Yuji hesitantly lifted his phone. No longer would he have to rely solely on memory to picture those who left such a grand impression on his life in just short of a year. “Like Fushiguro said, the battery will die eventually, so…”
“Obviously! Come on, we’re burning moonlight.”
Choso stepped aside as he watched his little brother get dragged down the hall by his classmate, offering a look of sympathy, then of encouragement to continue following Nobara’s lead. His time with her was limited. The time all three had together would not be eternal, so they might as well share this memory together before the imminent leap out of this era. No one would argue with Choso being there, but he knew he was the odd one out of this group. His own history with them either involved oaths of revenge he’d long since cast aside or short exchanges leading up to the eventual parting of ways when the Culling Game started. There was not much to discuss, nor anything that took precedence within his mind. So long as his little brother was content running through a couple stores late at night to mess around as children should once in their lives, waiting outside and enjoying a moment of peace would not be so bad.
The memory of this night was one that would last a lifetime. And if his little brother ever had trouble recalling it, not only did he have Choso or Megumi to reminisce with, but a small mascot keychain that now dangled from his bag as a symbol all three shared from a matching, limited set. Yuji had gotten a small dog, Megumi, a black bird, and Nobara, a white rabbit with a pink hat, all in winter-related clothing. The name of the series was not something Choso was familiar with, nor were the characters of any value beyond the sentimental, but that was what made them all the more special.
Learning a new language, or rather, an earlier version of the one he used now, was something Choso continued to struggle with. His understanding of linguistic development and the literal experience they all went through in their earliest years were lost to him. The vessel he had been placed within had unknowingly taken on those burdens for him, leaving Choso to awaken in the modern era with the immediate ability to communicate and understand. There were memories to draw from. Choso was not unique in this, but they could not expedite the process.
“Itadori, the pot is boiling over.”
“Shit!”
Choso raised his head from his little brother’s notes, eyeing the pair of teenagers with light concern as Yuji hastily gestured for the flame beneath the pot to shrink. Personal preference to keep watch on those two left Choso studying this era’s written language in the kitchen. Their tendency to cause distraction would be a detriment, but the atmosphere was enough to avoid taking what little strides were made too harshly.
To keep burdening his little brother with communication now that two required translations in conversation was something that did not sit well with him. Megumi’s progress in writing far exceeded his, as the boy had been taught to read old scripts offered to him to study all matters surrounding the great sorcerer clans. Yuji and Uraume’s lessons acted closer to a review, which would lead to both boys having around the same skill level by the end of the season. Choso, however, was not as fortunate. Failing to acquire much beyond simple exchanges or necessary vocabulary was a mistake Choso would not repeat again. He couldn’t. This was to be their home, as reluctant as Choso still was for his little brother to remain. It was a remnant of earlier caution. After all, he had now borne witness to the bond that had formed between the master, his servant, and the boy who crashed into their lives.
“Time to toss the noodles in!” Yuji declared, happily reaching for the stack of individually packaged noodles to tear through and bowl in one large batch. He was careful to sort out the individual packets that came with each one, as not every package brandished the same color or expression on the strange bird on its front. They were in a specific order so as not to confuse the flavors.
“I’m not eating these.” The boy next to him sighed while still handing him a utensil to stir with.
“But I got you and Uraume the mildest ones…”
Coincidentally, mentioning the servant had timed almost perfectly with their arrival. As if they were summoned, Uraume walked through the entryway with their head already tilted. What must have been spoken next was a question in regard to the subject of their conversation.
Despite speaking quite calmly, Uraume’s appearance had caused his brother to jump in his skin. He hastily gave some kind of excuse, all the while incinerating the packaging in his hands.
“See, no evidence to be found by archeologists in the future.” His little brother’s comment had been a playful jab to Megumi, yet he still translated for Uraume immediately after. Just as he did so, the wolf lying on the opposing side of the kitchen yawned, accidentally pulling attention in his direction.
Now it was Uraume’s turn to jump, apparently shocked to find not one but two beasts lounging about in the path they were about to navigate on their way to an open seat. Underneath Sato’s chin was another canine covered entirely in black fur, save for the triangular symbol on his forehead. This was not a normal creature, as Megumi would use his hands to form the summoning hand sign responsible for bringing the shikigami forth, as Yuji explained how the two appeared to enjoy one another’s company. This would lead to a small back and forth, with Uraume inquiring about the second wolf’s needs and abilities while hesitantly assessing the pair as Yuji continued to focus on their meal. It was not just the noodles that were required, as several toppings had already been laid out in preparation, and it was now time to start frying the eggs that he had previously claimed were essential to making each bowl complete.
“He is well trained.” Yuji repeated Uraume’s next comment, following along well enough until he felt the urge to intervene with an important correction. “He knows not to beg for food— Hey! I didn’t teach Sato that! I taught him to stop begging, but somehow he got worse while I was away.”
An assumed accusation was thrown Uraume’s way, which led to an expression of slight offense and a raised hand to denote their lack of blame in why Sato had been scooting ever closer to Yuji’s workstation. All they received was a pair of rolled eyes. Yuji did not believe their claim of innocence. If not Uraume, then the only one responsible for instilling such a bad habit would be—
And just like that, the King of Curses stepped into the kitchen. The pair of beasts reacted quite differently, as the white wolf happily wagged his tail as a form of welcome, while the shikigami’s ears stuck straight up in line with the tensing of his body. Interestingly, each one mirrored their master’s reactions perfectly.
Sukuna was drawn by the strange aromatics brought out by mixing everything together. The spice wafting in the air caused his nose to wrinkle. Skeptical yet too curious to leave the boys be, he needed to know more about what would be served. Each bowl had been crafted with a specific person in mind, leading Megumi to shake his head at the other teenager’s antics.
“He wants to know why we’re preparing food this early in the day. Not complaining. It’s just not time for dinner, but what I am trying to explain is that this is a once-in-a-lifetime event for him.” Yuji explained his father’s questions, attempting to laugh away any tension that formed when Megumi and Sukuna eyes one another with a bit too much intensity for his little brother’s liking.
“I have nothing to do with this.” With that, Megumi grabbed his bowl and walked away, taking another with him that would be sat in front of Choso to avoid making him stand up and risk getting involved in the consequences of Yuji’s actions.
To even risk engaging in such a devious prank was enough for Choso to know that he was fairing well. His little brother’s heart appeared far lighter than before, no longer weighed with as much guilt as there once had been. Hopefully, in time, such feelings would rid themselves entirely.
Though, that would all depend on how he and his family fared in the years that followed.
Notes:
Happy New Years, Everyone! Time to tackle the final round of notes before giving my final thoughts on this piece now that it is complete! ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ
-Originally, this chapter was only going to contain two scenes (the middle ones) but the beginning and ending of this chapter just make it feel more complete.
-Listen, I sympathize with Yuji being away from modern bathroom amenities for so long. The Heian Era had a lot to be desired, and our boy deserves a proper bath. XD He is either going to build his own onsen or somehow get it into Sukuna's head that they needed sacred healing waters no matter what. If they can't find a good hot spring nearby, then any place that has them is going to become the family's favored vacation spot.
-Gojo is here! I couldn't resist writing him, as this fic felt incomplete without a nod to him and what he had going on during the series proper. The whole time dilation can be something Gojo understands depending on how his time in the cube went, and him being a bit of a nerd who makes references (ex. Digimon) he understands the DBZ time chamber reference Yuji makes. It was also fun writing someone reacting to the news of what Yuji went through and who he's now started calling family.
-Yuji honoring Uraume with the mom role. They are the MVP of the story! Also, it is just so nice being able to write Yuji speaking more like YUJI with his modern tongue rather than him piecing together his words in another language. The difference is almost night and day to me.
-Yuji apologizing for not being a part of Gojo's future if a nod to chapter 271 where we finally see the talk the two had before the fight. Gojo has been cultivating the next generation to carry on his legacy, but he also doesn't want to burden any specific kid with his goals. If anything, Yuji is embodying them elsewhere, which is more than enough. Gojo is proud.
-Also, yes, before any of you murder me, Gojo still died in his fight against Sukuna. To me, it was a matter of A) They still had their agreement to fight and Gojo showed actual interest in it beyond just doing his duty. B) The fight and how it ends plays into his role in the greater narrative. Gojo is the mentor passing the torch, and he gets to find some level of peace from his faith in his students to continue. C) They needed Gojo to weaken Sukuna during the fight for Yuji & co. to take on Sukuna without getting obliterated immediately. Gojo, while failing to kill him outright, delivers enough debuffs to set the stage for victory.
-There is a tiny running exchange with someone apologizing and the other party (often Sukuna) stating that such apologies are unneeded. (Ex. Yuji and Uraume) So having Gojo do the opposite here and lean full into the "YOU BETTER BE SORRY!" was a fun parallel to it all. I also want to make it clear that Yuji was truly missed, but as Todo said back in Shibuya, sorcerers aren't privy to take time grieving when there is work to be done. Everyone continued to march forward, it was not out of hatred, but a way to honor Yuji's determination to keep fighting even without him. Now that he is back, everyone is more than grateful!
-Not Yuji trying to replace Hiten like a parent might attempt to replace a departed goldfish while the kid isn't looking. Haha.
-JJK & Sanrio have done a few collabs IRL, so the little keychain characters Yuji, Megumi, and Nobara have are based on their partners in the IRL collab. I have keychains and other items myself that hold value because I got them while with friends and family. They don't need to be customized or expensive to be special, which is why I think the trio would treasure them all the same.
-Choso is studying from Yuji's written notes that he'd made in the early chapters of the fic!
-Since Megumi lost the white divine dog, all he has is the black divine dog or their combined form Totality. Yuji has little Sato, a white wolf that ends up being the perfect match to Megumi's pup. The two are immediate besties, and I like to think that over time, Sato eventually becomes a permanent shikigami for Yuji to summon. Q.Q <3 Imagine if they had puppies... somehow? XD
-Also, not Sukuna ruining Yuji's training with little Sato as the wolf now begs for food like someone has been tossing scraps his way >.>
-Yuji is getting his revenge with a specific brand of Korean instant noodles to torture the poor taste buds of the Heian era. Sukuna is either going to suffer in silence and pretend he's fine while tears drip from his eyes or Yuji is like, uber dead. I'm sure Yuji brought more things for them, actual gifts, like cooking utensils/clothes/toys etc.Thank you all so much for reading! It means quite a lot to me, as the latter half of 2024 has been full of so many ups and downs. I do not know exactly what will come next, but whatever it is, I hope it can be enjoyed to the fullest!
Check comments for more thoughts ->
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