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The saddest sorcerer missions, Yuuji is learning, are those that come too late. Gojo said there was a mission Yuuji could've accepted last week, but he had declined it as it looked like Yuuji was just about to make good progress on controlling cursed energy. And so, for such a mundane reason, the mission was rescheduled to the current week—a week that Gojo happened to have a mission of his own. Instead, Yuuji is introduced to Nanamin, a sorcerer who is fun despite looking like he belongs in the office. He's a little strict, but funny and caring in his own way.
Their journey to investigate a suspected location of one of Sukuna's fingers is what brings about Yuuji's epiphany. They start with the reports that sound most obviously related to curses, marking on a map the locations, times, and any relevant details to close in on possible patterns. It's then that they learn of the recent murders of some school children. Or rather, teens—people the same age as Yuuji. People that may have been saved if they had just started the mission a little earlier.
Nanamin just sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.
Yuuji opens his mouth to ask when Nanamin cuts him off.
"Come along, Itadori-kun, we'll need to talk to Ieiri-san for this."
"Ah, the creepy doctor lady? Why would we need to-"
"We'll need her to perform an autopsy to make sure curses were actually involved."
"Oh, that makes sense. You're so smart, Nanamin."
Yuuji hears what must be an amused sigh, or at least, it should be.
"It's common sense, Itadori-kun," Nanamin deadpans instead.
"Sure," Yuuji agrees, "Well, let's go see what the creepy doctor lady says."
"It's hard to say," Ieiri pronounces after a protracted pause. "I could detect a wisp of cursed energy in the corpse, but that really isn't saying much given that non-sorcerers pick up trace amounts of cursed energy just by virtue of walking around in the world."
"I see. Thank you, Ieiri-san," Kentou says as he helps her with the organization and disposal of her medical instruments. "Do you have a recommendation?"
Ieiri hums as she thinks. The harsh light of the morgue blinks as if it were thinking along with her. Finally, the doctor sighs, motioning for Kentou to follow her outside. Once settled, she lights a cigarette in a practiced motion.
"You should probably keep an eye on it. There's a chance it's just a non-sorcerer going around killing—I'd be happy if that were the case. But, there's a bigger chance, given the timing of your original mission, that it's a Semi-Grade One or above curse. That or a new curse user we're going to have to profile. Kami, I hope it's not another one of those."
Kentou frowns as he considers the ramification of her words. "You don't think he—"
"It's not his style," she interrupts hastily. "Violence? Sure, as far as efficiency and getting his point across. But outright brutality? Nah. You saw the corpse. Do you really think he would waste—" she sneers the word like she's imitating a memory, the recollections of a boy who had betrayed all their trusts "—his time on that?"
Kentou thinks back to how the corpse was discovered, the way the blood painted a field of flowers to the left of the corpse, the way the skin of the right side of the face was peeled and pinned back like a macabre sunflower, the way half the teeth were ripped out and spread among the 'field' of blood like seeds. He thinks back to the ripped out hair and acid stains, the way everything was so exactly arranged with nary a drop of blood out of place, and concludes that Ieiri is correct. As much as the Getou they all knew despised non-sorcerers, killing was always a means to an end for him; never a real vice he took pleasure in.
In the end, all Kentou can say is, "You're probably right."
They stand in companionable silence for the rest of the afternoon, a comfort born of the events they've gone through together. They don't go back inside—not even when it starts to rain—until the kid Satoru had foisted upon Kentou bursts through the door.
"What are you doing in the rain? I thought you were a responsible adult, Nanamin! C'mon let's go, my grandpa always used to say staying in the rain is like asking for a cold to catch you or something like that."
Kentou allows himself to be tugged inside, the pitter patter of the rain fading as the door closes behind them.
The next victim they find is the vice principal of the school the previous victims attended. Purple splotches race up the right side of his body, culminating in the burgundy-brown of the face. The skin of the right side of the face had been peeled off and stitched back inside out; half scabbed over with a lingering trace of scratching. Whoever their culprit was, they clearly hated the principal to the point of keeping them conscious for the flaying process. It was evident in the twisted expression of pain and horror remaining on the intact portion of their face, apparent in uneven, seemingly rushed yet still uniform stitching. It's a grotesque sight—one Nanami had not been able to stop Yuuji from seeing.
"I don't know if it's worse if this ends up being a curse user or a non-sorcerer," Yuuji comments uncharacteristically quietly once they've kidnapped the body from the policemen.
"A human life has been taken and another tainted," Nanami answers gravely, eyes seemingly focused on the road ahead of him, "that they understand the spiritual impact or used cursed energy makes little difference in the end."
"But, isn't it worse if they kill while understanding everything? They know the hatred it breeds and the effect it has on their soul, yet they go through with killing anyway," Yuuji protests, "At least the non-sorcerers don't really know what they're doing."
They stop at a red light. Nanami finally looks to his left, sparing Yuuji a glance. When Yuuji meets his gaze, there's a deep disappointment in there that makes Yuuji shrink back in shame.
Nanami takes a deep breath. "You're young, and you've just been introduced to the sorcerer world as a whole, so it's understandable that you have some misconceptions. But you should never—and I mean never —make the mistake of equating non-sorcerer with helpless or ignorant. Just because they don't see curses, doesn't mean they're unaware of what it means to take a life. After all, you too were a non-sorcerer not too long ago."
And it's the disappointment more than anything that burns at Yuuji. "You're right, Nanamin. I wasn't thinking hard enough about it."
"It's okay, Itadori-kun. That's what we adults are here for: to teach you."
"Thanks, Nanamin."
The light turns green. They move forward.
By the time the third and fourth stash of bodies are found, Ieiri is able to confirm that the murderer is, in fact, a curse user. Having confirmation isn't as much of a relief as Kentou thought it would be. On one hand, the concrete information has cured all the hypotheticals that had once run rampant in his mind. On the other hand, it's about the only thing that can be confirmed about their target, another detail to fit in the puzzle of the killer's modus operandi. There's been a victim discovered every week since the first, except the current one. It's a departure from an established pattern that Kentou thinks they need to make note of—not that he believes that Yuuji should actually be involved in this investigation, but that damned Gojo refused to see reason. Just because their generation had experienced this kind of gruesome death so early on in their sorcerer career doesn't mean the current generation needs to.
Itadori makes a squawking sound that interrupts Kentou's thoughts.
"What is it, Itadori-kun?"
The kid is standing in front of the pictures of the third corpse—the mother of one of the previous student victims—and the fourth corpse—a convenience store employee who worked the after school shift.
"It's like that one movie," Itadori exclaims, "That one splatter film with the bad first and third movie but a pretty good second one!"
Kentou can only stare at the kid. "Movies?" he prompts again when it becomes evident Itadori wasn't about to explain himself further. In fact, he has a very serious thinking expression—one that Kentou is forced to admit, if only to himself, looks like a person afflicted with constipation attempting to pass a bowel movement.
"Yeah, Gojo-sensei made me watch movies to train my control over cursed energy. Man, I still got so many bruises from that…"
Gojo really has… the most interesting training methods. Not that Kentou can fault him, given who his homeroom teacher was.
"Yeah, it's the progression of the murders," Yuuji continues softly.
Kentou looks at the corpses. The corpse from the third incident has imperfect circles carved over the right side of her face. The perpetrator had clearly started from the top, carving circles of the same size with smooth lines and the same out of space between them, only to become more agitated as they continued, leaving more wobbles, varying size circles, and messy placement. The corpse from the fourth incident is the first to have more than half of its face disfigured—yet another departure from the established pattern Kentou thought they had identified. Approximately three quarters of the face is burned, with splotches of acid burn visible here and there. The hair is ripped out in seemingly random patches; Kentou can see that the curse user had meant to focus on the right side—as they have always done—but couldn't seem to hold themself back.The lack of attention to the details is a disquieting departure from the profile the sorcerers had built. It was, in fact, the acid burns that had ultimately given Ieiri the confirmation that a curse user is involved.
"The inattention to detail is uncharacter—"
"Perfectionism! It's ' the changing emotions of a perfectionist who abandons everything .'" Itadori practically jumps up at his epiphany. There must have been some kind of expression on Kentou's face because Itadori hastily adds onto his statement.
"I read it once on Tumblr in a horror movie blog. It was comparing the first and third movies to ' the relatively masterful plot of the second .' I mean, I didn't completely get what they were saying about the details there, but Two was definitely more watchable than One and Three. Aaaah," Itadori pulls at his hair a bit as he whips out his phone, "what was the name of the movie? I'm just gonna search it up." The boy fiddles around with his phone a bit, finally shouting "HUMAN EARTHWORM! HUMAN EARTHWORM 2!" when he found the title. Out of the corner of his eye, Kentou sees a curse. A very familiar curse—one that he had met many weeks back. Kentou gently extracts Itadori's phone from his grasp.
"This person," he points at the profile picture of the blog Itadori was referencing—that was definitely the special grade curse known as 'Mahito' beside a teenager, "do you know more about him?"
"Uh, just a little bit. We talked sometimes about movies when I was training. Last I heard, he had met someone who was mentoring him. Ma— Mat— Mab— Makito?"
It was him. They've found the curse user.
Junpei. Junpei, Yuuji's friend that loved horror movies, yet insisted killing was wrong, is the curse user they've been chasing after all this time. Reality crashes over Yuuji, a sudden wave of cold taking over his body as if he'd been dipped in liquid ice. Everything—the triumph of remembering the movie franchise, the pride of contributing to the investigation, the anticipation of being able to put his cursed energy lessons to use on a mission— everything fades away. None of it matters as much as the friend Yuuji only knew he failed when it was too late.
The feeling remains for the next few days as Nanami frantically—as much as that man ever frantically does anything—attempts to catch a hint of Junpei's location.
Yuuji's not sure of too much that happens between the discovery of Junpei's identity and the determination of his likely location. All he knows is Nanami gently but firmly tapping his shoulder, a soft "Get ready, kid," and the feeling of being on the move.
They catch Junpei in a sewer filled with disfigured bodies.
"Jun-kun," Yuuji hoarsely whispers the name he had been given permission to use if they ever met in person, "Why?"
There is no emotion in Junpei's eyes, only a crazed apathy reflecting in the blue light of his shikigami. "They killed her. She was the only one I had left—well, her and—he left me in the end too."
"The Special Grade Curse Mahito is not here?" Nanami cuts in. How reliable.
"Oh, he left long ago. Abandoned me like the fucker I should've known he was. So much for being a mentor," Junpei responds, seemingly not cognisant of the fact that it wasn't Yuuji that asked."
Yuuji gathers himself. He can't hear any pain in Junpei's hollow voice, but he knows it's there, deep down. "It's not too late, Jun-kun, come to Jujutsu Tech. They can teach you how to control your powers like they are with me and you can meet my friends and—"
"Yuu-kun. It's too late for me. I've tainted my soul already, resolved myself for the consequences the moment my mom died. And if this cruel world wants to take and take and only take from me, I'll be damned if I don't taint it back."
"Jun—"
"You were the closest thing I had to a friend, Yuu," Junpei says, some emotion breaking through his previously droll tone. His shikigami starts to move, and Nanami yells for Yuuji to get ready for combat.
Yuuji takes a deep breath in, centering himself, bullying the dissatisfaction and determination he had associated with cursed energy to the forefront of his mind. His fists light up with a burning black energy.
"Jun, I've always considered you a friend."