Chapter Text
It started, like so many stories of exorcisms gone wrong, with a young man sent out by a bunch of old men who thought they knew everything just because they could complain about times come and gone and better days in the world of sorcery. Sometimes it was clan elders, sometimes it was the higher ups of Jujutsu society. Sometimes it was terrible parents, sometimes it was just an unlucky person in the wrong time in the wrong place.
As it were, this time the poor bastard in question was Zenin Naoya, potential heir to the Zenin clan and all of its vast fortune and venerable legacy within the world of Jujutsu sorcerers- rags, riches, and/or bitches.
In any other timeline, in any other world, the exorcism would have gone without a hitch- an artful display of the physical prowess and mastery inherent to the young heir of the Zenin clan, and a show of force in the boy’s usage of Projection Sorcery.
However, this was not the case in this particular instance.
The cursed spirit itself was of a normal strength, perhaps a bit stronger than average, perhaps a bit stronger than normal. No more difficult a fight than always, but it tired him out slightly more than usual, made him more sloppy, dropped his guard ever so slightly more in the aftermath.
What that spirit carried this time, however, was something wholly unusual- something that should not have existed, something that had not existed, and something that would have terrifying consequences for young Zenin Naoya in the next…
Thirty seconds.
The dying curse lashed out in its final throes, the building collapsed, and the exhausted Naoya had no time to react but to spin around in shock, dodge a flying swipe that would have taken off his shoulders, and as he opened his mouth to shout an invective at the dissolving mass of cursed energy and hatred-
Ping~
A glint of light shone from the depths of the dying spirit, and flew out faster than the fifteen year old could see… right into his mouth.
Gulp.
A reflexive swallow, and then a moment of horrible realization.
Oh shi-
Darkness.
Zenin Naoya didn’t know how long he’d been submerged in quiet darkness, but it hurt.
It felt like a full body acid bath, deep into his bones and muscles.
It felt like his entire body was being torn apart, flesh picked clean from his bones as something in the writhing dark tried to dig into his soul.
Cursed energy unlike any he’d felt before rushed through that empty, agonizing dark, setting nerves alight and making him thrash and scream into the emptiness until-
BINDING VOW
A shackle slammed into his soul, a condition he hadn’t even heard but more felt- any excuse to get out of this hell, and for some reason the conditions were in his favor anyway. So what if he had to change a few behaviors? He could already feel a sudden surge of energy hitting his soul in the wake of that agreement and-
BINDING VOW
BINDING VOW
BINDING VOW
BINDING VOW
BINDING VOW BINDING VOW BINDING VOW BINDING VOW BINDING VOW
BINDING VOW BINDING VOW BINDING VOW BINDING VOW BINDING VOW
BINDING VOW BINDING VOW BINDING VOW BINDING VOW BINDING VOW
BINDING VOW BINDING VOW BINDING VOW BINDING VOW BINDING VOW
BINDING VOW BINDING VOW BINDING VOW BINDING VOW BINDING VOW
BINDING VOW BINDING VOW BINDING VOW BINDING VOW BINDING VOW
BINDING VOW BINDING VOW BINDING VOW BINDING VOW BINDING VOW
BINDING VOW BINDING VOW BINDING VOW BINDING VOW BINDING VOW
One slip of the tongue in that empty darkness gave way to a flood of pain, a flood of energy, and a flood of agreements he had not meant.
A flood of power that could not be denied, with conditions that could not be ignored. It was a pact made with something that Naoya could not possibly comprehend, changing him in ways that he could not possibly accept.
He screamed, for he could feel the soul pressed against his body ripping his own to shreds.
Memories and ideals, thoughts and emotions, his very sense of self and identity- all slipping through numb fingers as a violent, horrible presence took root in its skull and ate until nothing was left.
And then-
BINDING VOW BINDING VOW BINDING VOW BINDING VOW BINDING VOW
Five more binding vows slammed into the presence itself, binding it to the empty vessel that was once Zenin Naoya, sealing its fate with the boy’s, and ensuring that the two of them could never be separated again.
Power flowed like a river, and the now destroyed body could be reformed into something more suitable. There were shackles etched into the newly bound soul, sworn to upkeep the vows that its host had been chained and shredded with- but it wasn’t like that presence minded.
After all, Zenin Naoya was the walking scum of the earth even with as young as he was- a brash, arrogant, misogynistic, utterly pathetic waste of a sorcerer who spent more time spitting on everyone beneath him for the sin of being weaker, no matter their age, position, or skills.
Just as well that he’d swallowed the Cursed Object containing the presence’s soul, then.
In the crumbling dark that was the pile of rubble where once an abandoned building stood, Zenin Naoya died.
Binding vow after binding vow after rush of memories and hatred and feelings he couldn’t understand but beat him down all the same had torn his soul to shreds, and the thing that had stolen his body had glued the rest together into a newer, hardier, more powerful form.
In an ignominious backwater nowhere that was more adequately described as an abandoned backlot where curses tended to collect around half destroyed buildings, Zenin Naoya died- crushed, shredded, utterly defeated by a cursed thing that had shackled his soul for power and then shackled itself to his body.
And Zenin Naoko woke up, screaming, gasping, and wondering why the fuck the clan members sent to accompany her looked so shocked.
So.
Maybe Naoko’s recollections of her own identity weren’t exactly as she thought they were, what with the fact that she had forty five binding vows literally etched into her body and another five shackling her soul. Well, that and the fact that that everyone else apparently remembered her being the haughty, arrogant, yet undeniably powerful and high-potential young master of the clan instead of the more subdued, polite, gentle mannered young lady.
Also apparently it wasn’t normal for her hair to be gray?
Weird. She could vividly recall having bleached and dyed it at one point, and now they were telling her those memories were fake and probably an effort by some kind of cursed spirit to make her weaker or something.
Not that she felt weaker. In fact, she actually felt much stronger- a lot stronger, stronger to the point where if she picked up a hunk of concrete off the ground she could crumble it in her hand like one might crumple tissue paper- without using cursed energy to reinforce her body.
Interesting…
Plus there were a few other strange memories floating around in her mind, as it were- that of a different person, at a different time, in a different place… but nothing concrete. She might actually know English now, though it was hardly a useful skill at the moment.
If she were a normal girl with a normal life, completely unconnected to Jujutsu society… she might be able to use that sudden grasp of English to pass her classes more easily, but beyond that… nothing.
All that to say- after a few pointed questions and a demonstration of a strangely more responsive instance of Projection Sorcery, the members of the Kukuru unit that had been sent to tail her as her ride and her handlers at the time had brought her back to the Zenin clan compound to be questioned by her father.
“How are you adjusting?” Naobito asked her, concern on his face. It was a rare moment where he wasn’t drunk, but the circumstances likely had him decide to not drink today. “Do you know what happened?”
“Mm… For me, there doesn’t seem to be anything to adjust, father,” Naoko answered honestly, sitting before the man and crossing her legs. “Aside from my clothes, I simply felt as though I had been hit by a cursed spirit’s death throes and woken up in a pile of rubble. Though, I suppose that my entire being is much different than it ought to be… I remember being as I am now my whole life, but I can feel the effects of an absurd amount of binding vows shackling my own body together as though I’d fly apart if they weren’t there… Binding vows to act a certain way, to think a certain way, to forget this or that… all tattooed onto my skin in exchange for an obscene amount of power.”
She paused, clenching her fist a few times as she allowed her energy to flow freely and without restraint through her body- a whirlpool of cursed power so condensed and controlled it was akin to a whirlpool in her veins, double, no, even triple that which she had before. Her control was tighter, her body stronger, her senses sharper, her everything had been upgraded to the point that she didn’t even know what could have possibly done this. “I don’t know what happened or how, but whatever those binding vows did… I’m stronger now. Stronger in ways I’m not even sure I entirely understand, to the point where I feel like I’ve gained entirely new abilities branching off of Projection Sorcery itself… and even then…”
Naoko chuckled softly, looking up at her father. “I think I have more frames available to me now, father- sixty per second, isn’t that amazing?”
“That… is good, I suppose.” Naobito nodded slowly, mostly concerned because Naoko seemed to be an entirely different person from Naoya. “We will need to keep an eye on this, of course. Unexpected side effects from so many binding vows, shifts in personality, the works.” He made a show of waving his hand, as if he weren’t the one most concerned about his now-daughter. Cursed Spirits and Binding Vows weren’t exactly comfortable business.
“Of course, father,” Naoko nodded easily, then hummed softly and tapped her chin with a startlingly well manicured finger as if deep in thought. “I’m not blind to the faults of our clan as it is, and the politics of the situation are likely quite… dangerous, are they not? Both you and Ogi-sama have oft expressed distaste for Jujutsu society’s tendency to put targets on the heads of promising young sorcerers, especially if they might pose even the slightest threat to some perceived sense of stability. Perhaps… a different story, before the news may spread? It’s the middle of the night, still. No one except the members of the Kukuru unit and you have heard the news… how about this- a clan-wide order of silence, and a cover story. Zenin Naoya dies in a botched exorcism, proving his perceived worthlessness as heir and user of Projection Sorcery… and Zenin Naoko, recently adopted from a previously long since divorced cast-off branch of the clan gets sent to Tokyo Metropolitan Jujutsu Technical College to learn to control her new variant of Projection Sorcery, hmm?”
For a long moment, Naobito just stared at her, slowly blinking. Eventually, he grasped the bottle under his table and took a full ten second chug. Slamming the bottle down, he began to laugh. “Well, shit, whatever happened made you smarter, for sure! That’d certainly work on our end. You’d have to get used to the changes and make sure to distance yourself from the clan’s policies. They’re a bit more… liberal, I suppose.”
Naoko blinked, furrowing her brow slowly. “... I don’t remember being stupid, father. Hm. Must be a change that I- no, one of the binding vows must have inadvertently done something unexpected… I suppose that’s par for the course, with this many vows taken and permanently etched into my body. Regardless- thank you, father, for this chance. And for hearing me out- it must be quite a shock, I imagine… even if it feels like nothing’s changed for me.”
A pause, once more, so she could collect her thoughts. “... I wouldn’t want to listen to the clan’s policies anyway. They’ve always been… cruel and restrictive, moreso than they need to be.”
Naobito snorted. “Maybe to you it seems cruel, but as much as Naoya was my son, he was… Well. You’re an improvement, I’ll leave it at that. Especially if you can keep an eye on your cousins… God knows how they’ll be treated as they grow up.”
“Mm… I suppose you’d know more than I, now,” Naoko nodded. The rest of the meeting seemed entirely nothing more than small talk and boring things that had no real purpose- perhaps it was a test of personality, of control, of a thousand little things to make sure that whatever had happened to Naoko hadn’t resulted in the formation of a cursed spirit capable of passing as human to the point that non-sorcerers could see them. Perhaps it was a test to make sure she wouldn’t suddenly fly apart or collapse into gore or any number of things.
Perhaps it was just because Zenin Naobito was a lonely old drunkard whose son had derided him in every possible way for over a decade now due to the endless stupidity he seemed to have been afflicted with- his circumstances and the praise heaped upon him having turned an ordinary child into something and someone who would spit on the woman tying his shoes for not doing so acceptably quickly.
Well.
Regardless of that, Naoko had much more important things to do than to dwell on the purpose of an hours long talk with her father that was, honestly, surprisingly enjoyable for once. Instead, she had to examine herself to see what had changed, what was new, what was different.
…
Huh.
The new binding vow tattoos on her skin were actually kinda neat. Aaand… she may have gone up a cup size or two from what she remembered?
Hm… and her wardrobe was full of nothing but the same boring menswear. Ugh. Of course it was- everyone and the world only knew Zenin Naoya, the idiot dipshit that apparently existed where her memories said Naoko should have been. Different room, different furnishings, different wardrobe… strangely enough, most of the same skincare products and makeup.
Huh. Neat. So Naoya did eyeliner too. Good to know.
Whatever. She’d let this room collect dust in a few weeks anyway- after a medical check up and a letter to the principal, she was all set to start living it up and enjoying her freedom and education in the esteemed halls of Tokyo Metropolitan Jujutsu Technical College!
Tokyo Jujutsu High, for short.
And for now, all she had to do was kick back, relax, and figure out exactly what she was capable of now.
Easy.
The upcoming semester was sure to be fun.