Chapter Text
It is on the third week of Gojo Satoru's unexpected absence that Nanami breaks his word and sends for Geto Suguru.
The journey to the remote village they have relocated to and have been living in for the past year takes Geto five days. By the time he arrives Nanami is at his limit, sleep a long-forgotten luxury in the face of perpetually growing despair and exhaustion.
It is raining heavily, the roof of the coach a cacophony of percussion, and Nanami's hot breath mists in the cold air as he takes a drag of his cigarette, the ember glowing faintly in the pitch darkness within the interior. The frantic clop of hooves reaches his ears first. He strains his eyes through the window in the direction of the main road merging into the path leading to the village. A lonely rider advances toward the coach on a powder grey steed, an imposing figure hunched over with visible fatigue and bundled in a heavy cloak.
For the briefest of moments Nanami's heart leaps in his chest with fragile, painful hope that his lord, his friend has finally returned. Then a flash of lighting illuminates the rider's face in pristine whiteness for a fraction of a second and he catches the slant of Geto's brow, his dark hair under the shelter of his hood as he approaches and stops his horse by the coach.
Nanami supresses the urge to shake his head. He pulls the hood of his own cloak over his head before he exits the coach, fingers stiff as he takes a final drag of his cigarette before crushing it into the mud under his boot.
"Back to old vices I see, dear friend." Geto says in a manner of greeting as he dismounts wearily and gives Nanami a faint smile. One can read the exhaustion in his voice, but it takes someone knowing him for as long as Nanami does to catch the subdued excitement in his timbre, the inflection of impatience. "I hope you have not been waiting for me too long in this ghastly weather."
Should have sent for you the moment the seizures started.
Should have sent for you the first week Gojo stopped answering my correspondence.
He should have listened to his instincts rather than the petty rules set by a bull-headed and proud Alpha such as Satoru. It might have saved the boy some suffering. It might have saved them all the agony of the unknown.
"Barely an hour." Nanami says numbly. If anything he is glad to be out of that gloomy, dreary house and the stench of impending death and terror it carries. Geto ties the reins of his mount to the back of the coach as they both climb inside and Nanami bangs his fist against the side to indicate to the coach driver they can go.
"You did as I asked?" Geto whispers without much of a preamble as he pulls a flask from the pocket of his coat and takes a sip, eyes drifting shut, throat bobbing. He offers the flask to Nanami, but the Beta declines with a shake of his head and lights up another cigarette instead. Nanami needs his wits about him tonight more than ever.
"The boy has been off the ether for two days now. As you instructed." Nanami says as he exhales slowly, lets his eyes slip close at the fleeting calming caress of nicotine coursing through his system. "Shoko left the house. She called me mad to send for you and entertain your practices. She said Gojo will have my head for this."
"He just might." Geto drawls as he leans back in his seat and brushes a lock of damp raven black hair behind his ear, a sombre look in his eyes.
"If he ever returns that is." Nanami mumbles as he stares out of the window and into the darkness pressing against them from all sides.
They reach the mansion just before sunrise, the relentless rain finally yielding as the horses pull the coach up the gravel road. A bruised pre-dawn sky begins to bleed into the inky blackness, hinting at a sun that dare not rise as they climb out of the coach and head to the front gates.
Above the sprawling gothic monstrosity that is Gojo Manor, the gargoyles, perched like grotesque sentinels, seem to loom like mythical monsters, exhaling the night's damp breath. Water, heavy and glistening in the first rays of the sun drips from their stone wings and clawed feet, a mournful echo in the still morning air.
Nanami pauses for the briefest of moments, shoulders stiff as he watches Geto taking the mansion in, its shadowed towers and crumbling battlements sticking out like jagged teeth against the lightening sky. There is no warm glow emanating from within, only the lingering chill of festering stillness. An emotion passes over Geto's face, brows creasing briefly but before Nanami can even try to decipher the expression it is gone.
"May I see the boy now?" Geto takes another sip from his flask before he gathers the satchel attached to the saddle of his horse. "Would he be awake at this hour?"
"He doesn't sleep unless drugged. Not since Gojo departed."
Their steps echo in the chilling silence as they enter the foyer, dripping water and tracking mud over the pristine marble floors. As they advance in, head to the grand staircase leading to the west wing Geto's eyes scan the interior with silent, subtle scrutiny and Nanami can almost hear the gears in his head turning. No open fires crackle in the drawing rooms they pass, no welcome flames casting dancing shadows across the polished wood. There are no fresh flowers gracing the marble tables. No servants scurry about their daily tasks as would be fitting of a noble house of such size and heritage.
All servants except for the cook, a hardy old woman deaf in one ear and Ijichi, the doggedly faithful to the Gojo clan butler, had left within days of each other. Some through sheer superstition, convinced that a dark curse clung to the very walls of the mansion. Others, having witnessed first hand one of the boy's terrifying seizures.
By now reports of what happened in the mansion in the lord master's absence have reached the village no doubt, spread like wild fire as grim erroneous accounts do. Nanami has heard the rumours. Whispers slithering through the market, stories being told in hushed voices between drinks in the tavern. They all revolve around a curse befalling the Gojo clan for their arrogance and greed, tales of a malevolent spirit that has taken residence within the young Omega Gojo Satoru has taken as a ward.
Ijichi's initial greeting to Nanami's companion is cold and distrustful. The family butler is well aware of the decades old discord and animosity between his master and the man he had once called his best friend. Even the mention of Geto's name in the household is considered an offence to Gojo's sensibilities.
"I hope you know what you're doing." Is all Ijichi says in a hushed voice as he brushes past Nanami and heads to the kitchens.
"Ijichi-"
"He's awake. Restless. Refused any food as usual." The concern and exhaustion in his voice are palpable as he clasps his hands behind his back and Nanami has half a mind of asking him to stay, suddenly apprehensive of being the only witness to what Geto is yet to uncover during his examination.
"I'll bring tea." Ijichi says in a soft voice, as if reading his mind. "I shall not be long. Megumi should be joining us shortly as well. I sent him to his room last night and took over. Poor child was so exhausted. "
Nanami merely nods as he leads Geto down the long, dimly lit hallway. The air grows heavy, the silence more oppressive with each passing step as they approach the master bedroom. They'd moved the boy to Gojo's room within a week of his departure, the Alpha's familiar scent proving enough to sooth him, settle his agitation, or so they thought. The effect had been temporary, fleeting in the face of Gojo's prolonged absence. Nanami had ran out of reassuring lies and excuses to tell a week ago.
They reach a heavy oak door, intricately carved with shapes of delicate vines and tiny birds, and Nanami takes a deep breath, collects himself for the briefest of moments before knocking and pushing it open without waiting for an answer.
The curtains are still pulled shut, plunging the room in permeating gloom. Dust motes dance in the slivers of sunlight that pierces the darkness through the edges of the thick fabric. Geto doesn't say a word, takes in his surroundings, eyes sliding over the sparsely furnished bedroom by the weak light of a single candle resting on a desk by the window. Shadows dance over the walls adorned with heavy tapestries as Geto steps in towards the four-poster bed that dominates the room.
The air is thick with the sour, curdled scent of an Omega in distress and Nanami watches Geto pause, gathering himself before he pulls the gauze thin curtains of the bed, knuckles growing white, clenching in the fabric convulsively.
Over his shoulder Nanami finds a now familiar sight. The stark white linen contrasts sharply with the dark wood of the bedframe. In the bed, amongst those pristine, unsettlingly white sheets Nanami sees him. Itadori Yuuji. A shock of soft pink hair over a pale, drawn with exhaustion oval face. His amber eyes, only weeks ago so vibrant and full of life now swim with desolation, distant and haunted.
"Nanamin-" The boy mumbles in confusion as he studies Geto apprehensively, through heavy lashes, and this is when the Alpha resurfaces from his stupor and draws the curtains of the bed fully away, shoulders suddenly stiffening, his usually unobtrusive scent thickening with silent anger.
"You've tied him up like an animal." Geto grits, motioning to the bindings around Yuuji's wrists and ankles.
"It was the only way to keep him from hurting himself."
"Untie him."
"Geto-"
Before Nanami can react Geto is dropping his satchel on the floor, moving towards Yuuji's prone form. He makes quick work of the knots and bindings, fingers rubbing absently at the reddened tender skin of the boy's ankles and wrists. Yuuji stares at him as if he is a ghost, gasps faintly at the sudden contact before he curls up on himself, impossibly small in the large bed, amber eyes narrowing as recognition coalesces slowly in his muddled mind.
"I've seen you before....Geto Sensei? Why...?How?"
"I'm here to help you, Yuuji." Geto drags a chair by the edge of the bed, sits and leans forward extending his hand palm up and Yuuji stares at him for the longest of moments before he hesitantly extends a pale, delicate hand. The Alpha presses two fingers to the side of his wrist, searches for his pulse.
"Light, Nanami. Draw these damned curtains, will you?"
Nanami draws the curtains as instructed, plunging the dark room in blinding morning light and Yuuji whimpers, recoils, curls in the sheets, eyes squeezing shut.
"Nanami says that your spells have returned. I know you've had them since childhood. Would you describe them to me, please?"
Yuuji is quiet for such a long time Nanami thinks he won't answer. He watches him silently, his chest rising and falling erratically, fingers fisted in the sheets as he tremulously opens his eyes to look somewhere past Geto, gaze distant, cloudy.
"I cannot always remember them, Sensei. My mind wanders."
"Tell me everything from the beginning then, Yuuji. Whatever you can remember."
A shadow passes over the boy's face, brows knitting together as he chews on his lip and Nanami steps in closer, fingers curling around one of the two intricately carved wooden columns at the foot of the bed.
"It was... it is like a dream." Yuuji starts in a small voice and he looks so much younger than his eighteen years, impossibly pale in the morning light. "I just knew things. Felt things. I always knew the contents of my birthday presents." A small smile grazes his lips at Geto's encouraging nod before it melts away. "I knew when my grandmother would pass." His voice sounds small and unsure, as if he is struggling to remember. "Grandfather would find me in our fields playing, he would find me in the forest, listening to the wind. A lost nymph he'd call me."
"Go on."
"It...it worsened as I became older... I...I began to frighten him." Yuuji swallows thickly, eyes suddenly brimming with tears and he curls up in the sheets as if he wants to make himself smaller. "I was so very alone, Sensei. I wished for comfort, you see. For a friend."
Yuuji is growing agitated, the air thickening with the scent of his mounting turmoil. Part of Nanami wants to stop the examination. He has the sudden urge to tell Geto he's changed his mind, tell him he's just talking to a frightened boy who's unsettled by the long absence of his Alpha even though deep down he knows Yuuji's agony lies somewhere darker, somewhere Nanami dares not look or has no understanding of.
"There was a presence.... In the forest. Then the nightmares... the spells-" Tears start rolling down Yuuji's cheeks in slow, hot lines. "Grandfather found me once laying.... Unclothed I was. My body, my flesh-" Yuuji covers his face with shaky hands, falters. The scent of his misery takes Nanami's breath away and he can only imagine what it must feel like for an Alpha such as Geto.
"You can tell me, Yuuji. You're safe."
"Sin... Sin, grandfather said. He wanted to send me away. Then he got sick, so very sick."
"Then the trial for your custody. The clans voting." Geto says in a quiet, even voice as he spares Nanami a glance before focusing his full attention on Yuuji again. "Gojo was chosen."
"It all ended when I first met him. He protected me always. I felt normal with him, Sensei."
Nanami remembers the day vividly, the sheer fury and bitter contrition emanating from Satoru as he sat through a room full of Alphas, some of which three times his age, squabbling over the future and ownership of an Omega child left with no one else in the world. It had been a sordid affair, one Nanami finds no pride being involved in. Itadori Yuuju had been barely thirteen then, just lost his grandfather, the head of a lesser clan destined to fall into obscurity with no Alpha to inherit its legacy. The ordeal had lasted until late into the night. Prolonged conversations and arguments, a litany of shameful, lewd remarks, which Nanami had to clench his teeth during. On multiple occassions he had to remind himself he'd sworn his allegiance to the Gojo clan, no matter how viciously he craved to punch Satoru's father square in the face. It had been Geto Suguru that had put Satoru's name forward for the vote, at the time it had been the last nail in the coffin of their friendship.
"Yet these visions and night wanderings have returned to you now? Since Gojo's departure?" Geto's voice pulls Nanami out of his reminiscing and he shakes his head slightly to clear his mind, steps in closer as Yuuji pulls himself into sitting position, shaky hands fisting in the covers.
"I fear for him, Sensei." Yuuji whispers haltingly. "My dreams... they grow ever darker."
By the time they break their fast it is already midday. Bread is barely passing Nanami's tight throat as he watches Geto pace back and forth along the length of the heavy wooden table in the middle of the kitchens. The half deaf cook pays them no mind, back turned to them as she stirs a pot of stew by the open fire.
"Let him rest during the day. Off the ether. Try and get some food in him. He looked at his limit."
"Megumi might get him to have a bite. He reads to him in the afternoons, keeps him company." Nanami says quietly before he sips his tea, eyes tracking Geto's movements as the Alpha suddenly stops his pacing, long fingers rubbing at his chin before he sits across from the Beta, leans in.
"Nanami, you were there for Yuuji's examination at the trial five years ago. You were one of the witnesses in the room with the doctor, together with Shoko."
Nanami nods, averts his gaze as he casts the cook a quick inquisitive glance before he exhales and leans back in his chair. He pulls out a cigarette out of his silver case, lights it up, not uttering a single word under Geto's intense stare. Nicotine is not going to cut it for much longer.
"I'd rather not-" He starts as he shakes the match out, the tiny flame extinguished.
"We are past the point of sparing your delicate sensibilities." Geto whispers as he pulls out a heavy, bound in black leather notebook from his satchel. "Were there any markings on the boy? Tattoos? Scars?"
"No."
"Are you absolutely sure? Nothing around his throat, his hips? His thighs?"
"I didn't look closely. It was an assessment to confirm he was intact. He was covered by a sheet." Nanami exhales heavily, thick grey smoke swirling in the air as Geto narrows his eyes, while flipping through the pages of his notebook. "I didn't want to-"
"Useless." Geto huffs as he slams his notebook shut and gets up from his chair. "I will need a book sent from the library. I need to reference some old texts. If I write a letter to my assistant, can you get it to the village post office today."
"Certainly." Nanami nods, trying his best to ignore the fact he'd just been called useless and asked for a favour in the same breath. He does not like thinking about the trial, the same way he does not like recalling the way Yuuji had sounded during his last seizure not two nights past, voice burned out, shattered from crying. The spells have become more and more frequent in the last week and Nanami feels powerless, at the end of his rope, more and more desperate each time he had to explain there has been no word from Gojo.
He takes a deep, slow drag, fills his lungs with the acrid, poisonous comfort only cigarettes seem to be able to bring. It had been ten years since he'd last smoked before all this happened, before he found himself in charge of a haunted household and the head of the clan gone, presumed dead.
"Geto, the boy... You've examined him. This affliction-"
"I have a theory." Geto whispers quietly as he pauses to tear a sheet of paper out of his notebook and gives Nanami a look heavy with exhaustion and disquiet. "I hope for his and all ours sake I am wrong, old friend."
"What do you mean?"
"I dare not say."
"Suguru, I called you here for a reason. The doctors were useless. I need to know what's wrong-"
"This is not an affliction of the body." The Alpha says as he starts writing on the torn sheet of paper, a faraway look in his eyes. "Yuuji's very spirit has been entrapped. "
"What-"
"We shall know tonight for certain." Geto says as he grabs the last piece of toasted bread from Nanami's plate. "I'd try and get some sleep if I were you." He takes a bite, chews loudly. "We've a long night ahead of us."
It starts the moment the sun sinks behind the jagged, snow-capped mountain tops in the west. The sweating first, then the shivers, his skin scalding to the touch. Like an oncoming heat it burns him, without relief to be granted. His scent swims in terror, in silent, mounting agony as he convulses, Nanami's hands clutching at his shoulders barely keeping him still as Geto measures his pulse again.
"Heart like a trapped humming bird." Geto whispers bitterly, jaw tight as he presses the tips of his fingers against the sides of Yuuji's neck, before he moves to his stomach. "When was his last heat?"
"Two months past." It is Megumi that answers, voice impossibly strained as he stares at his friend's prone form, hands clutched into fists at his sides with agitation. Nanami had wanted to send the boy away, spare him the sight of Yuuji in the throes of another seizure but Megumi had insisted on staying.
"Was it a normal one? How long did it last?"
"It... it lasted twelve days."
"That long?" Geto tears his eyes away from his patient to stare at Megumi in disbelief and the boy looks away in embarrassment. "Gojo let it-"
"Gojo's never touched him." Nanami says as Yuuji thrashes in his arms and whimpers. "The bond has always been-"
"Obstinate, self-righteous fool." Geto breathes out incredulously as he pulls the collar of Yuuji's night shirt away. "Platonic? He left it platonic for so long?"
"The boy's his ward, Geto. He was a child when we took him in."
"Where?" Geto whispers firmly, ignoring Nanami's last statement as if he hasn't spoken. "Where did he mark him then?"
"Right shoulder." Geto pulls the sweat soaked night shirt down on one side, exposing the Omega's shoulder and Nanami nearly gasps at the sight, or lack there of, as Geto growls under his breath and pulls away, gets up from the edge of the bed to run a shaky hand over his face.
Nanami stares at the smooth, unblemished skin of Yuuji's right shoulder with a gaping mouth.
"This is impossible."
Nanami was there. He saw it happen. He remembers Gojo fulfilling his duty as the one chosen by the vote. Gojo Satoru sank his teeth in the right shoulder of a thirteen year old at the time Itadori Yuuji in front of witnesses. The boy bled a little, bravely tried not to cry even when tears spilled down his face. Nanami watched as Satoru wiped at the little Omega's cheeks with his thumb, he watched him cover the boy's tender shoulder with his shirt again and ruffle his pink hair with a shaky hand. He'd been close enough to hear Satoru's soft words, a promise of shelter to a frightened child.
You're safe, little one. No one's going to hurt you. I'll make sure of that.
"What does this even mean, Suguru?" Nanami whispers as his fingers unclench from Yuuji's arms. The Omega is laying still now, breaths leaving him in small shallow gasps, soft lips parted and Nanami moves away, runs a hand through his hair in apprehension.
"Pass me my bag and a candle." Geto mumbles to Megumi as he ties his long, raven black hair back, rolls his sleeves and sits on the edge of the bed again. Megumi brings his satchel and hands it to the Alpha without a word before putting a candle by the night stand. Geto pulls out a small leather case out of his bag, opens it to extract a long, silver needle, longer than Nanami's index finger. He runs the needle over the flame before leaning over Yuuji.
Geto pulls one of the boy's eyelids open gently, before he gets a hold of Yuuji's arm and lifts it up.
"His pupils are expanded. They do not contract naturally to light." Geto whispers before looking over his shoulder at Megumi. "You might want to look away. I'm afraid it is the only way."
"Geto, what the fuck-" Is all Nanami manages before Geto plunges the needle through Yuuji's forearm. Nanami sees it come out clean through on the other side, and Megumi gasps before jumping forward trying to stop him only for Nanami to wrap a firm hand around his wrist.
"Told you to look away, didn't I?"
"You're hurting him! Stop it!" Megumi cries and Nanami has to grab at his shoulders to keep him still as he tries to come to his friend's aid.
"He doesn't feel a thing," Geto says with stone-cold certainty as he pulls the needle out. Yuuji's expression remains unchanged, his breathing in that same even, gasping cadence as Geto leans over him. He measures Yuuji's pulse again, his fingers pressing against the boy's throat, his eyes lingering on the bare skin of his shoulder where the bonding mark should have been. Where it was. Nanami had seen it. "He's not with us anymore. He's beyond this realm."
Megumi shivers in Nanami's grip, the tremor running through the boy's frame making Nanami's own skin crawl. He wants to dismiss it, to categorize it, to file it away under some logical, explainable heading. Stress-induced hallucination, some kind of trickery. Nanami prided himself on his analytical mind, his ability to dissect a situation and find the rational core. But this… this defies categorization.
He'd seen Yuuji this morning. Weak but conscious, talking, answering Geto's questions. Now, Geto is declaring him beyond this realm, and the evidence, however unsettling, seems to support it. Yuuji's stillness is unnatural, his lack of reaction chilling. It is not like he is asleep or unconscious. There is an absence there, a hollowness that resonates with something primal in Nanami, something he desperately wants to ignore.
The rational part of him, the part that had always served him so well, screams for a logical explanation. He wants to dissect Geto's words, to find the flaw in his reasoning. Beyond this realm? It sounds like something out of a cheap horror novel, the kind of thing he usually scoffs at.
He doesn't believe in curses, or spirits, or any of that occult nonsense. He deals in facts, in measurable quantities, in the tangible world. Yet, the image of Yuuji’s vacant stare, the unnerving stillness of his body, chip away at his carefully constructed wall of scepticism. He’d witnessed strange things throughout his life, things he couldn’t fully explain away with science or logic. He'd always managed to find a plausible, if sometimes strained, explanation. But this… this feels different. This feels wrong in a way that resonates deep within his bones, a feeling he cannot shake off. The logical part of him is losing ground, slowly but surely, to the unsettling reality unfolding before his eyes. The unexplainable is staring him in the face, and Nanami, the staunch rationalist, is starting to feel a flicker of something he hasn't felt in a long time... fear.
The fight slowly drains out of Megumi's body as Geto bandages Yuuji's arm. He lays it by his side carefully and this is when Yuuji's gasping picks up, rattling and grating, like the very air shreds through his lungs, eyes snapping open. His pupils are so large there is barely any colour left in his eyes as he writhes on the bed, rigid fingers clenching in the sheets.
"Take the kid out of the room, Nanami." Geto says firmly as he leans over Yuuji's prone form. "This isn't going to get any prettier."
"No! I'm not leaving!"
"Megumi-"
"I'm staying. You can't make me-"
Nanami sighs, weariness settling over him. He understands the boy’s attachment, the fierce loyalty that burns within his chest. He gently takes Megumi’s arm, trying to steer him away from the bed. He holds Megumi at arm’s length, rubs his thumbs against his shoulders soothingly as the boy pants heavily, brows knit in frustration and worry, large desperate eyes trying to find Yuuji again over Nanami's shoulder. Megumi has been through so much for his age already. An absent father, losing both his mother and his sister when he was barely twelve. Abandoned by his own clan at the tender age of fifteen when it became apparent he would not present as an Alpha but a Beta much to the clan leader's disappointment. Gojo had taken him from the Zenin as a ward at one of the council meetings, paid an obscene recompense for a child Zenin Naobito did not want to keep anyway.
Over the two years Megumi has been living in the Gojo household him and Yuuji have become inseparable. It warmed Nanami's heart to see the boys form such genuine, heartfelt friendship. Which is why Yuuji's sudden affliction hit Megumi so profoundly; he felt responsible for his Omega friend as if he was family, the only family he had.
"I will make sure Yuuji is safe, Megumi. You have my word." Nanami tries to reassure him.
"You just watched him get stabbed with a needle and did nothing!" Megumi’s voice rises in accusation, his eyes flashing with anger and fear. “You just stood there!”
"Look-" Nanami starts, but he’s cut off.
"Let him stay then," Geto says with exasperation, his voice sharp. "It makes no difference at this point. Just keep quiet and do not interfere." He doesn’t even look at Megumi; his focus is entirely on Yuuji.
Nanami lets out a heavy sigh, a mixture of resignation and worry. He releases the boy finally, knowing further argument is pointless. Megumi pulls away with a scowl, plants himself at the foot of the bed, arms crossed over his chest, eyes never leaving Yuuji's thrashing form. Geto pays him no mind as he frees Yuuji's body from the covers, carefully making sure his wrists and ankles are exposed. He leans in close, his face inches from Yuuji’s, and whispers in the boy's ear.
"Do you hear me, Yuuji?" Geto asks gently. "Tell me what do you see."
Yuuji’s eyes flutter open, but they are no longer the warm, friendly amber that Nanami knows. They are a malevolent crimson, burning with a terrifying, cruel light. A slow, chilling smile spreads across Yuuji’s face, a smile that has never belonged there. His voice, when it comes, is not Yuuji’s. It’s a low, guttural rasp, primal and terrifying.
"He... he... is coming..." Yuuji grinds, jaw trembling. "He is coming for me...Promised I was...promised...he's come to collect what was promised... "
Megumi gasps, flinches back and Nanami steadies him, hands clutching at his shoulders as the boy shakes in terror. A cold dread creeps down Nanami's spine, settles heavy and icy in the pit of his stomach.
"Who is coming, Yuuji?" Geto asks, his voice carefully neutral, though his eyes betray his growing agitation.
Yuuji’s smile widens, revealing sharp, predatory teeth.
"He... he casts his shadow...." he whispers, his voice filled with a terrifying reverence. "The one who will bring the eternal night..."
Suddenly, his body convulses, muscles spasming uncontrollably. He arches his back sharply, a guttural howl tearing from his throat, a sound filled with pain and something else, something primordial and inhuman. Geto makes no move to touch or restrain him, just watches his every movement with a grim expression, eyes filled with unsettling interest.
Yuuji rises on all fours, his movements jerky and unnatural, like a puppet controlled by unseen strings. He crawls on the mattress, his fingers digging into the fabric, leaving deep gouges. He reaches the foot of the bed and starts clawing at the bottom board, the wood splintering under the assault of sudden unnatural strength. His eyes, still burning with that malevolent crimson light, are fixed unseeingly before him as a terrifying smile twists his lips.
"He's coming... He's close now-"
"Who, Yuuji?" Geto asks with chilling firmness. "Speak his name. Who're you promised to?"
Without preamble Yuuji lunges forward, fingers curled like claws and Megimu cries out instinctively as Nanami shoves him behind his back and steps forward only to wrap firm hands around Yuji's wrists. The sheer strength contained in that compact body is outrageous, overwhelming, out of this world and Nanami growls as he barely manages to push him back on the bed, panting like a bull.
"Don't fight him, Nanami." Geto instructs with infuriating calm. "Let him be."
Nanami releases the boy and steps back and Yuuji sinks back on hands and knees, sways from side to side, lips stretched in that terrifyingly gleeful grin. Geto is chanting under his breath, words in a language Nanami does not understand as the boy claws at the sheets, eyes turning back in their sockets. A snarl twists his features as he claws at his own chest, fingers shredding the fabric of his night shirt as a deep, ancient voice bubbles from his throat.
"I shall persist to join you every night. First in sleep then in your arms. I shall drown the world in blood and there will be none to bury the dead. For you are promised to me!"
The words echo through the room, grating and resonant, a promise of doom. Yuuji's body trembles uncontrollably, caught between two forces. He arches his back again, a pained cry ripping from his throat. The crimson light in his eyes flickers, dims and then vanishes, replaced by that warm, familiar distressed amber Nanami knows so well. His lips tremble as the terrifying grin falters, the ancient voice dying in his throat, replaced by a choked sob.
Yuuji crumples, collapsing onto the bed, his body shaking convulsively. He clutches at his chest, his fingers digging into the torn fabric of his shirt. Tears stream down his face, mixing with the sweat and spittle that cling to his skin. The unnatural tension leaves his body, and he curls into himself, a broken, vulnerable form.
"Help me," he whimpers, his voice hoarse and barely audible. "Please… help me." The words are laced with pain, confusion, and a desperate plea for salvation. He looks at Megumi, his eyes filled with a heart-breaking mixture of fear and pleading. "Megumi… I… I don’t understand…"
Before Nanami can stop him Megumi is pushing past him, climbing on the bed, gathering his friend in his arms and pressing him to his chest, rocking him as Yuuji shivers uncontrollably, sobbing brokenly.
"Shh I've go you-" Megumi mumbles into Yuuji's sweat damp hair. "You're okay, Yuu." Megumi's teary eyes find Nanami's gaze over the top of Yuuji's head, brimming with terror and desperation as he clutches at him with rigid fingers.
The transformation is stark, chilling in its suddenness. One moment, he was a creature possessed by horrid darkness and power. The next, he is Yuuji again, broken and terrified, begging for help. The shift is so complete, so absolute, that it leaves Nanami reeling.
Geto stops chanting, his expression unreadable. He watches Yuuji with a careful intensity, his eyes narrowed, searching. He takes a step forward, then hesitates. The tension in the room is palpable, thick with uncertainty and fear.
"It is as I feared." Geto finally speaks up, voice raspy in the encompassing silence and Nanami gives him a look, flicking his chin towards the boys before heading for the door.
"Megumi, would you-"
"I'll stay with him. I won't let him out of my sight."
Nanami nod, barely manages a faint smile before exiting the room, focusing on keeping his composure as Geto follows close behind.
The heavy oak door to Gojo’s study clicks shut behind them, the sound echoing in the sudden quiet. Nanami walks over to the ornate liquor cabinet, his hands trembling slightly as he reaches for a bottle of amber liquid. He recognizes the label – Gojo prized whisky, the one he never touches himself, but breaks out only for special ocassions. Or, Nanami thinks grimly, for moments of utter disbelief. He pours two generous measures, the clinking of the glasses the only sound in the room.
He hands one to Geto, who accepts it with a quiet nod. They stand in silence for a moment, the weight of what they had just witnessed hanging heavy between them. Nanami takes a long sip of the whisky, the burn in his throat doing little to soothe the unease that churns in his stomach.
"What...what the fuck was that?" Nanami finally asks, his voice low and strained.
Geto sighs, running a hand through his hair. He swirls the whisky in his glass, watching the liquid catch the light. “Yuuji has been cursed, Nanami. Possessed.”
Nanami scoffs, a short, humourless sound. “Possessed? With all due respect, Geto, you can’t be serious. Pathological delusions? Epilepsy… but possession? That’s… that’s old wive's tale.”
“Is it?” Geto asks, his gaze meeting Nanami’s. “Did what you just saw feel like a delusion? Did Yuuji’s strength, that… that voice, feel like something you could explain logically?”
Nanami’s jaw tightens. He thinks back to the moment he’d tried to restrain Yuuji. The boy’s strength had been inhuman, far beyond anything he’d ever encountered, even from an Alpha in his prime. And that voice… that ancient, malevolent voice that had echoed from Yuuji’s lips… it had chilled him to the bone.
“There has to be a logical explanation,” Nanami insists, though even to his own ears, his words sound weak. “It could have been some kind of… hallucination. A psychological break triggered by Gojo's disappearance.”
Geto raises an eyebrow. “A hallucination that gave him the strength to nearly overpower you? A hallucination that spoke in a voice not his own? A hallucination that made his eyes glow crimson?”
Nanami falls silent, the whisky glass heavy in his hand. He knows Geto is right. There is no logical explanation for what they had seen. Yuuji’s transformation had been real, terrifyingly so.
He closes his eyes, the memory of Yuuji's inhuman strength still vivid in his mind. He can still feel the strain in his muscles, the shock of the boy’s unexpected power. He could still hear that chilling voice, promising eternal darkness. He opens his eyes, his face pale and drawn.
“I… I don’t know what it was,” he admits, his voice barely a whisper. “But… it can't be real. Cursed? This is insane.”
Geto nods, his expression grave. “It was real, Nanami.” He takes another sip of his whisky, his gaze fixed on the flickering candlelight. “Yuuji is in danger. He’s been marked. And whatever that… thing is… it won’t give him up easily.”