Chapter Text
Yuuji was only young when his parents disappeared. Young enough he can't remember their faces, but old enough to know that the space they once occupied was empty. He'd been left with his grandfather on his father's side, and eventually even he passed on.
Yuuji had been too young still to live on his own, so when his grandfather was on his deathbed, he'd given him instructions to seek out the nearby shrine. He could become a shrine keeper, and as long as he performed his duties, he would have a roof over his head, and a bedroll to sleep in. Tearfully, he'd listened intently, memorising the way to get there, and the offerings he'd give once he arrived.
His grandfather had barely lasted the night, after that.
There were only a few belongings to his name - his upbringing had been frugal at best. His clothes were worn, thrice owned things that had been passed onto him from his grandfather as he got older and bigger- too big for the clothes his parents had left him. While his grandfather had owned his house, there were other relatives, ones that Yuuji had never gotten along with, that were coming to claim it the next day. The Itadori clan was small, and other than him, close knit. Yuuji had never quite understood what it was about him that his clan members hated, what made them pull away from him when he was only a child. His grandfather had barely spoken about the subject, only shaking his head at his family's actions, and giving Yuuji what he could.
From what Yuuji could gather, it was something to do with his mother's family - and that was all he knew. He looked more like her than any on his father's side - his strangely coloured hair and dark eyes were a sharp contrast to the dark hair and light eyes of his kin.
Ugly, his clan had tsked, and Yuuji had often considered dying it, or shaving it all off. But when he'd try, his Grandfather would always stop him.
"It's a part of you, and if they want it gone, they can do it themselves." He'd tell him, before swearing under his breath, voice gruff. "They never liked your mother."
Yuuji longed to know why - to know anything, beyond the haze of childhood memory. Vaguely, he recalled twisting his tiny fingers through dark red coloured locks of hair, the warm embrace of his mothers arms.
He clung to that while he packed his threadbare bag, grabbing his change of clothes, comb, and notebook with his current lessons. His grandfather had been teaching him herbalism as his latest class - an addition to his hunting and gathering skills Yuuji had already been given.
He'd been trying to get him ready to survive on his own, Yuuji mused, as he blew out the candles of his room. He said a final goodbye to his childhood room, a long, quiet look in the dark and, before he shuffled out. As he passed his grandfather's room, he paused.
"If I could stop them I would, Yuuji." His grandfather whispered through his dying lungs. "You've looked after me these last few years. It's your home." The old man's eyes grew watery and distant. "They're vultures and I only wish I'd told them off sooner." A shaky hand reached out for his own, and when Yuuji grasped it, his grandfather squeezed surprisingly tight. "Forgive me for the regrets of an old coward."
"You're not a coward Gramps." Yuuji soothed. "You love your family."
"You're my family boy. Do you see any of them here?"
Yuuji frowned. He'd been trying to contact his father's family for months, but they always threw out his letters. " If they knew-"
His grandfather cuts him off. "They would if they didn't ignore your letters! Don't think I didn't notice."
Yuuji slumped. "It's my fault. They'd be here if they didn't hate me."
"Yuuji." His grandfather says it strong enough it's almost like he's a kid again, before the man got sick. "You've done nothing wrong, and you're a kind soul. Promise me you'll remember that."
He swallowed hard. Yuuji didn't feel like a kind soul- he felt like a burden. But if his grandfather wanted his word…
"I promise Gramps."
The blanket rustled as his grandfather slumped back down into the bed. "Good." He looked over at Yuuji with a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Now before you leave for the shrine, I want you to take my dagger when you go."
His… "Gramps! No! That's too valuable!"
His grandfather laughed, and it was a weak, wheezing thing. His time was coming, and it was coming soon. But not yet, Yuuji thought. Not just yet, please.
"It's only valuable to me . The others won't even notice. And I want you to have it. You never know who'll visit the shrine."
Yuuji scowled. "You want me to attack the people coming to pray?"
"No," his grandfather replied, humour gone. "I want you to protect yourself from people that come to do you harm. Not everyone that visits a shrine does so to pray." He gave his hand another squeeze. "Take the dagger. Make an old man feel at ease."
"Yes gramps."
The door to his grandfather's quarters was ajar, untouched since Yuuji had taken him to the healers over a month ago, except for the times Yuuji would go in to clean, just in case his grandfather would be coming back for another short stay, before the sickness would overcome him again.
Yuuji pulled it open, the soft slide of the door in its frame far too loud in the quiet. Everything was the same as it always was - his grandfather's bedroll, neat and tidy in the corner. The window above it cracked open just enough for the fresh air to come in, as his grandfather liked it. To the other side was his study, a small wooden table decorated in tall candles and discarded notebooks. It was almost like he'd be coming back any moment, telling Yuuji to prepare for another lesson.
Except there would be none. Not anymore.
Having thought he'd cried all he could at the healers, Yuuji was surprised to feel tears burning his eyes. He wiped them away, sniffling as he approached the desk. Above it, adorned on the wall, with its hilt glinting in the low light from the window, was his grandfather's dagger.
It was a simple blade, a bright, pure sheen of steel, hidden inside its bamboo sheath. Perhaps it's most extravagant quality were the storm clouds carved into its hilt, detailed bolts of lightning the only colour on the burnt wood. Yuuji used to imagine they moved when he was a child. Or that he could hear the thunder if he listened right.
Now, there were no such fantasies, and he took a deep breath before reaching up and lifting it off its hook. It was lighter than he remembered, but then, Yuuji had grown much stronger since he was small. It felt right in his hand, grip forming easily, and Yuuji put it in his satchel. For the last time, he tidied the room, whispered a prayer for his grandfather’s spirit, and left the door open behind him, so his gramps’ could come and go as he pleased.
He didn’t linger long in the house after that. The sun was already hanging low in the sky, and he needed to get to the shrine before nightfall if he could. He grabbed some fruit, a candle, and a pack of incense as he closed up the house, before pausing.
“It’s your home…”
Taking his old pair of slippers from the entryway, Yuuji turned, and didn’t look back.
It wasn’t his home anymore.
~
The directions his grandfather had given him lead Yuujji far away from the village. Winding his way around the nearby mountain and into the forest beyond, Yuuji felt more alone than ever before. The last time he’d travelled this way, had been with his grandfather, on one of his hunting lessons.
Yuuji had cried over a baby rabbit - and it hadn’t even been dead. One little paw stuck in a trap, and he’d been inconsolable until they’d freed it. They’d moved on to gathering after that, and his grandfather had pat his head gently until he’d stopped crying. “So soft, my boy.”
The weight of the dagger in his bag felt heavier somehow. Like it knew he had it, and that he shouldn’t - that he wasn’t strong enough to wield it should he need to. He grit his teeth at the thought, and hefted his bag further up his shoulder. His gramps had wanted him to have it, and so he would.
The deeper into the forest he walked, the darker it became, the canopy of trees above him growing thicker and thicker. It didn’t scare him, not like it once had, and the sounds of bird life were loud in his ears. If anything, the air was fresh, and the grass soft and plush beneath his feet. There was running water nearby- he could hear it through the trees, and the thought comforted him. This was a thriving landscape.
His grandfather would be pleased. He’d often complained about the consequences of people hunting so close to their village, and how it drew the wildlife even further into the forest. At least, Yuuji thought as his footsteps startled a small group of deer, they were safer here.
Following the worn path deeper into the trees, Yuuji listened out for the river he could hear flowing. His grandfather’s directions told him to walk the path until it reached the water’s edge, and to find the rope bridge there. It would only be a few more hours through the forest on the other side until he reached the shrine’s sacred land.
Apparently, he’d know it when he’d see it.
With a huff, he kept walking. Trust his gramps to be mysterious even on his deathbed. While Yuuji loved the man dearly, he wouldn’t have minded some clearer information. Other than detailing how to get there, and the offerings he’d need, his grandfather had neglected to tell him much else. Yuuji didn’t even know who the shrine was for.
Yuuji just hoped they actually let him stay, even if he didn’t know who’s shrine he was cleaning.
~
Coldness seeped through his pants and made his knees ache, but Yuuji paid it no mind as he carefully laid out his offerings. One by one, he placed the apple, the candle, and the incense down on the stonework, and took a deep breath as he lit the match.
Soon, the air was filled with the scent of jasmine, and Yuuji was so strongly reminded of his grandfather that he nearly cried again. Instead, he wiped his face on the back of his jacket sleeve, and waited.
The shrine was quiet when he’d approached, no temple bells ringing, no quiet chatter of maidens or monks as they tended to their chores. If it wasn’t for how clean the temple was, Yuuji would have figured it was abandoned. The path that had brought him there was overgrown, tree roots blocking his path. He’d climbed over the obstructions easily, but cautiously wondered how anyone was supposed to find this place.
When no one greeted him, he worried that perhaps… that was the point.
Still, with the scent of home calming his nerves, and the knowledge that his gramps wouldn’t have led him astray too badly, Yuuji waited, and eventually dropped from his knees onto his ass, crossing his legs to wait more comfortably.
Eventually, the incense crumbled to dust, and for lack of anything else to do, he lit another one. Around him, the air was still, the birdsong muted, and as the last of the suns rays fell away, Yuujji grew more and more wary.
Until one by one, the lanterns flickered to life around the temple, their warm glow casting strange shadows across the floor, and Yuuji felt the reflex to run…
Because there was no one there to light them.
Slowly, so as not to show disrespect to any wayward god or spirit, Yuuji shifted to his knees, but kept his head bowed, as more candles grew flames around his own. For a few moments, this continued, until the entire shrine was glinting in the night, shadows dancing across the temple floor, and a gentle breeze ruffled his clothes.
“You do well, Young one, not to move.” A warm voice called out, and Yuuji’s head snapped up before his better sense could stop him. Standing by the altar in front of him, was a monk, clad in a red flowing yukata, and bamboo sandals. His hair was a long, light grey, but they were the only features he could recognise, even against the glow of the candle light. “I see you brought an offering.”
Wetting his parched lips, Yuuji found his voice. “I have,” he bowed his head once more. “ I would give more, if I had it.”
The man hummed. “This is plenty, depending on what you seek.”
Shelter, Yuuji thought. A new place to sleep. “My grandfather sent me. He’s passed away, and told me to seek guidance at this temple, and to offer my services. I only hope you find me acceptable.”
He felt, more than saw the man give him a scrutinising look, before the man was in front of him, red fabric pooling on the ground by Yuuji’s knees. “ Do you know what this place is, Child?”
Yuuji was afraid that would come up. “I know it’s a shrine - I do not know who for.” He admitted, the honesty catching in his throat. They’d turn him away, for sure. Maybe if he begged, his family would take him back…
“It is for anyone, and everyone that seeks it, child.” The man said, before he crouched down, and Yuuji glanced up to see the pallidness of his skin and the absent look in his eyes. “However, most of those that come here are dead.”
Oh. Yuuji swallowed. “I apologise, you must want me gone. I didn’t mean to trespass-” He went to get up, but a ghostly hand gripped into his arm.
“I did not say you could leave.” The man warned, and Yuuji froze, slowly kneeling back into place. “Do you need shelter?”
Yuuji nodded.
“Do you need hospitality, and a place to sleep?”
Once more, Yuuji nodded, and tried to feel anything other than a morbid curiosity and chilling fear.
The monk smiled, and his face almost grew larger to manage it. “Then you shall have it. If you promise to work, then anything you require can be provided for you.”
That was not what he was expecting. “Are you sure?” He asked, and then cursed himself for second guessing. If they threw him out, he’d have no other choice but to go back to his family. “I mean, I wouldn’t want to impose.”
The man - spirit, Yuuji corrected, laughed, and it sounded like the crows he passed walking there. “ It is only an imposition if you do not work. Do you plan to do us this disservice?”
“No,” Yuuji answered. “I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”
“Good.” The man stood up. “The gods accept your offering. If you follow me, I’ll take you to your quarters.”
Stumbling over himself, Yuuji grabbed his bag and followed, and when he looked back over his shoulder, the apple was gone, and the incense and candle had burned all the way through. Nothing of his offering remained.
“Thank you, again,” Yuuji told the spirit, and tried to remember the way through the winding, seemingly endless halls. “I promise to work hard.”
The monk paused, and Yuuji nearly walked through him. “Do not thank me. I merely do as the gods wish.” He threw a hand to the side. “ If you look through here, you will find a small kitchen. It hasn’t been used in at least a century, so you will need to clean it.”
Yuuji nodded. “And water?”
“There is a well on the temple grounds, as well as the creek that flows to the east.” The man made a noise low in his throat, before glancing over his shoulder at Yuuji. “You humans need to bathe, as well, if I remember correctly. I will show you to it now.”
Torn between screaming and smiling, Yuuji settled for a bland, but polite face. “ Thank you,” he told the spirit, and they continued on their way.
It wasn’t that he was a ghost, Yuujji mused as he followed behind the monk. He’d come to expect spirits in places like temples and shrines, and given his respect many times over. What shocked him was how easy it was to accept, how surreal it was to follow this spirit to his new home, as if he hadn’t just signed away his freedom in order to have a place to sleep.
Gramps, what did you get me into, Yuuji thought, but walked through the cold, worn down halls regardless.
The baths were close to the kitchen - which made sense given the need to carry the water to the old pipes, and it didn’t take long for them to get there. Yuuji gave them a cursory glance, uneasy to do much more under the watchful gaze of his caretaker, and simply followed when the monk led him further into the temple.
“Your hair,” the spirit remarked, “ Is it natural?”
“...yes,” Yuuji responded cautiously, and hoped that would be all. He didn’t need another person hating him for looking like his mother.
The spirit nodded. “I wondered why you could come here, and see me upon arrival. We are always grateful to accept one of your kin.”
Yuuji stumbled, feeling cold and warm all at once as hope bloomed in his chest. “You’ve… seen others like me before?”
They approached a small, wooden door, and the spirit looked at him curiously. “Of course. Sorcerers are often the only humans we receive here.” The spirit bowed. “I hope you grant our home with your protection, young one.” The door before them opened with a creak, and light cast itself over them both, leaving the spirit with a strange glow. “I hope you find your quarters satisfactory. They are yours for as long as you want them.”
“Thank you,” Yuuji said, and tried to get the courage to ask more about sorcerers, and why the monk thought he was one. Before he could, the spirit bowed, and turned to leave.
“Work hard to keep the shrine safe and clean, and you will have no need to see me again. I’m sure you will find everything in due time, and if you truly become stuck, ring the bell in the main court, and I will appear when I can.”
Mind reeling, Yuuji nodded. “What did you mean, before? About me being a sorcerer?”
The spirit gave him an amused glance. “Only those like yourself can enter our shrines while they are living. It’s been a long time since we have had one here, however.”
That… still didn’t answer Yuuji’s question, but it looked as if the monk would give him no other answer, so Yuuji didn’t ask, simply gripping the strap of his bag tighter. He’d have to figure it out on his own then.
“Oh and Yuuji,” The spirit remarked, before he left. “Do try not to offend our guests… some of them are unused to humans.”
And then the man was gone, and as Yuuji stared into the empty hallway, he shivered, knowing he’d never given him his name.
~
It took several months, but eventually Yuuji found a rhythm to his life in the temple. He still didn’t know it’s name, but he’d hesitantly called it the Fox Shrine, in his head, due to the small fox statues he found scattered around the grounds. He’d clean them at least once a week, and yet every time he saw them again, they’d be overgrown with moss like it had been a years worth of rain, not barely a few days.
He wasn’t always alone; some days, he’d see red robes out of the corner of his eye, belonging to other shrine caretakers, but they never spoke to him. And they were never living. Sometimes, he’d feel them staring, or even a brave one touch his back, or his arms as he walked, the coolness suddenly on his skin alerting him to their presence. For the most part, however, he was by himself, and while he didn’t enjoy it, he’d grown to find comfort in solitude.
His day consisted of an early morning wake up, the shrine bells jingling in the nearby trees a pleasant wakeup call. Why they only rang with the rise and set of the sun, he didn’t know, but he’d grown accustomed to using it to tell the time of the day. After morning stretches, he’d stumble to the bathroom, relieve himself, splash water on his face, and begin his day. He’d collect water from the well for morning tea, and brewed it with tea leaves he’d found in his first week. He had to be careful, he knew, as several plants looked similar, but his grandfather’s training had paid off, and Yuuji had created a blend he’d grown fond of.
Every morning, he’d leave a full cup on the altar as an offering, along with a plate of sliced fruits, and a stick of incense. By nightfall, it would be empty, and he’d replace it with a small portion of his dinner, whatever he had found to eat that night.
His personal chores consisted of fetching water, storing it in the various tanks for future use, chopping wood for the hearth, and setting traps for the occasional meat to use in his dinners, as well as foraging for other foods.
However, where his personal chores ended, the ones required for his shelter began. Every day, he would clean the temple steps, and scrub them once a week. He’d light the incense in the morning, and replace the burnt out candles before they’d be lit in the evening. He didn’t control the lighting of the candles - assumed it was the doing of the other caretakers, given how they’d bloom to life at sunset each day. But he did replace them, having found a storeroom with a seemingly unlimited supply in the back of the shrine.
Other tasks included the laundry - both his own, and the mats that lined the floors to the altar. There was also a small garden behind the temple, and when Yuujji had found it, he had nearly cried, because it was filled with edible plants. It needed tending - it clearly hadn’t been touched by anything other than local wildlife for gods knew how long, and Yuuji took great delight in making it usable again.
Between his daily chores, he’d wander the temple grounds, and eventually he’d mapped out the entire space. It was hard to tell where the sacred land met the surrounding forest, but Yuuji had realised each little stone fox signified a corner of the grounds. It was towards the western side that he found his first fruit tree - an old, towering plum tree. He’d taken only a few fruits that first time, leaving some behind for animals that could need it, and added it to his map.
Now, the tree was a part of his weekly chores, and he’d taken to leaving slices out across the shrine as offerings to passing spirits.
His time at the temple was simple, and while his work could be backbreaking, he found it soothed his soul to mindlessly toil away - like he could mourn his grandfather in peace.
It was one day, a few months into his stay, that his peace was broken. He’d been out tending the garden, skin slick with sweat and overgrown hair flopping into his eyes against the sun, that he’d felt something in the air sour. The birdsong he’d become accustomed to hearing vanished, and even though the sun was at its zenith in the sky, he heard the shrine bells begin to jingle.
Yuuji shot up, dropping the old tools from his hands, and crept back to the entrance of the temple, approaching from behind the old buildings. Sweaty hands clenched in his pants, and Yuuji faltered for a moment as he grew closer, the cloying unease becoming stronger in the air.
Hesitantly, he reached into his satchel - kept on his side to collect herbs for dinner, and pulled out his grandfather’s dagger.
Not everyone that visits a shrine does so to pray, Gramps had told him, and if the heavy aura surrounding him was anything to go by, he might’ve been right.
With a careful glance, Yuuji peeked out from the side of the stone wall, and bit his tongue to keep himself from gasping.
Standing beneath the Torii, head nearly crashing into the old, moss covered stone, was a monster.
Sharp pointed teeth jutted out of a gaping jaw, saliva dripping down it’s curved, elongated chest. It was horrendously pale, like it had no blood inside it, and it staggered into the sacred grounds, long limbs dragging across the ground. It left gouges in the stone, and Yuuji knew he’d have to fix them later.
Was this a guest? He didn’t think so. He’d had spirits enter before, their comings and goings mostly silent and peaceful. Sometimes he felt their anger, or injustice, but by the time they left, they’d felt at peace - cleansed almost. Yuuji had never felt the atmosphere sour this way, nor heard the bells clang in alarm at something’s entrance.
“ Eat…” The creature gurgled, and the sound ripped at Yuuji’s ears. It was both deep and high, like several voices were speaking in unison, and goosebumps broke out across his skin. “Kill…” the monster continued, and Yuuji swallowed.
He hadn’t had a temple guest do this before.
The ground trembled as the creature took another stumbling step, and Yuuji watched in shock as one of the little foxes that surrounded the Torii fell over and smashed.
Where were the others? He’d felt their presence that morning - refilled the empty tea cup at noon. And yet he saw no red robes flash in the corner of his eye, felt no chill against his skin.
“Where are you…” The monster called, and Yuuji froze against the wall, ducking his head back and out of sight as his heart tried to burst out of his chest. “I can smell it.”
That, Yuuji decided, wasn’t good. He gripped his dagger tighter, and took a shallow breath, as quiet as he could. It was his job to look after this place, and the old monk had asked him to protect it, all those months ago. If he stood by and let this thing destroy his home, what would even happen?
Mind made, Yuuji lurched up and with a supporting grip to the wall, flipped himself over it. The creature moved to take another step into the shrine, and Yuuji glanced over the damage to the entrance and snarled.
“Hey! Over here!” Yuuji yelled, and slid to a stop next to the temple stairs. He wasn’t letting this creature get any closer. “State your business.”
The monster tilted its head like a dog, and drool splattered onto the ground. “Hungry…”
Yuuji frowned. “If it’s food you require, you can have it.” He would at least attempt to offer some hospitality- he was given the same treatment. “But you must not harm anything within these sacred lands.”
No intelligence dawned within the creatures eyes. It simply stared at him, before taking a step closer. “Smell nice.”
Against his instincts, he stood firm, and placed the dagger in front of him. He felt like a child again, imagining lightning in his hands. “Do you swear not to harm anything or anyone in this temple, and move on?”
A flash of red moved behind him, and Yuuji heard the whispers of the other caretakers. So they were present. He wondered why they were hiding.
The monster noticed them too, it must’ve, because its pale gaze focused on something behind Yuuji, and it moved faster, almost with a ferver. “Little spirit.”
Darkness clung to Yuuji’s heart, a heavy feeling of fear making it beat faster and faster. This wasn’t a shrine guest, here to pay its respects.
Yuuji unsheathed the dagger, and the bright glint of its pure metal made the creature pause. “If you get any closer, I’ll be forced to attack.” Yuuji said, but his knees were shaking. He didn’t want to attack it - he didn’t want it to even be here, disrupting the little peace he’d gained since his Gramps passed away. Sometimes, Yuuji thought he could feel him, among the other guests, and he’d made a point to leave an extra candle on all day for him. His grandfather had given him the dagger in case of things like this, and he would damn well use it.
He adjusted the dagger in his sweaty palms.
“Tiny sorcerer.” It spoke, and some awareness crossed its face. “Tiny blade.” It cackled, and took another groundbreaking step towards him. “Eat anyway.”
It moved with a speed that shocked him, one that Yuuji couldn’t trace, because one moment it was in front of him, and the next, behind. A long, clawed hand reached, and Yuuji heard a whisper turn into a scream.
Red robes were lifted, and for the first time since Yuuji had entered the shrine, he saw the face of one of the caretakers clearly.
It was a little girl.
And the monster was going to eat her.
Hand gripping the dagger so hard he felt his hand ache, Yuuji sprinted, running up behind the monster until he was at its back. From this angle, he could see its awful, spindly legs, and a long, pointed tail. With a small prayer to the gods that he wouldn’t fail, Yuuji planted his foot against its slimy flesh, and pushed upwards. He’d always been agile and quick, but now with adrenaline and purpose flooding his system, it was like he had never moved before. With a push of his legs, he was airborne, and as he slammed into the top of the monster's head, he drove the dagger into its pale, right eye, and pulled . Sharp blade catching, the creature's head sliced like the plums he prepared for his offerings, and with a roar, the monster reared back.
The little girl collapsed to the ground, and was dragged back inside the temple by the other caretakers. Now, almost like a haze had been lifted, Yuuji could see them all clearly, and the one thing they had in common was that they were afraid. So that’s why they were hiding.
He dug the blade in deeper, twisting as he was flung to one side, and his free hand gripped onto any purchase - which ended up being tangled, matted hair. Close to throwing up, Yuuji pushed aside his nausea and kicked at the creature with his feet, bringing the knife out again and again until it stopped fighting him off, and eventually, with a gurgled cry, it collapsed beneath him.
And began to disintegrate.
Yuuji cried out in shock, and fell back on his ass. With growing horror, he watched as the monster turned to sludge, before eventually even that disappeared. Soon it's only remnants were the spatter on Yuuji’s clothes and dagger, and the destroyed ground and fox statue.
“What the fuck, ” Yuuji murmured, and dropped the dagger from his hand. His own blood was flowing down his arm, and he couldn’t even recall when he’d gotten hurt.
What was he supposed to do? What even was that? Yuuji didn’t know, and he was about to either pass out, or vomit, when one of the caretakers ran over to the massive bell in the middle of the altar and rang it.
Right… Yuuji remembered. He could’ve done that.
His eyes drooped, and he watched as slowly but surely more and more caretakers made their way over to him, and he heard their voices whisper as he passed out.
“Thank you Yuuji-”
And then he was gone.
~
When he comes to, he's lying on a soft surface, and there's a coldness fluttering around him in glancing touches. He cracked open his eyes, and was met with a crowd of red.
"You're awake!" A spirit said, and bowed her head. "We were worried when you fell asleep."
Another cut in, a younger boy this time. "Yeah, I didn't know people could just sleep like that. It's been ages ."
A cold hand touched his forehead. "Do you need anything? I can get it for you-" another woman this time, and Yuuji's overwhelmed. He hadn't had a conversation since he got here, and now he's having too many.
"Leave him alone. Go back to your duties," a stern voice broke in, and Yuuji tilted his head to see the old monk from his arrival. He was still as pale as ever, but he seemed more solid to Yuuji's eyes than last time. Whether that was the spirit, or Yuuji, he couldn’t tell.
The spirits around him disappear instantly, fleeing like scolded children, and Yuuji felt the air grow warmer immediately. The sudden silence was strange, and left him feeling bereft, even if he'd only had it for a few moments. He'd forgotten what other voices sounded like.
"Hi," Yuuji croaked out, and the monk huffed, before moving closer.
"You've caused quite a stir, boy." He told him, before kneeling down. "Can you sit up?"
He can, so he does, and it's only when he moved that he realised he's been undressed, and the softness against his skin was a bunch of blankets. A blush flooded his face, and he cringed, gripping the blankets close to his chest. Sure, his clothes were covered in gunk, and the others were dead but…
"The others decided to undress you. Unfortunately, I don't think your old clothes will be returning." The monk remarked wryly, and cleared his throat. "Thank you, for protecting them."
He's unsure if he should ask more about the clothes, but the old man had never been forthcoming before, so he let it be. 'What was that thing?" Yuuji asked instead, and the spirit's face darkens.
"That," He paused, and gave him a weary glance. " Was a curse. A being consisting of negative spiritual energy. They are not welcome in our temples."
Yuuji frowned. "But wouldn't they need to be cleansed? Isn't that what this whole place is for?” He replied, and sat up straighter. “Did I anger it? Is that why it attacked-”
“It would have attacked regardless, boy,” The spirit interrupted, before he could get washed away in his panicked thoughts. The monk looked him over, and sighed. “Curses are different to spirits. While us sprites are lingering souls- we are for the most part, ambivalent. We can be influenced of course, by negative or positive emotion, which is what places like this sacred temple are for. Spirits can visit to be cleansed, to relinquish their past regrets, and move on.”
Move on… Yuuji stared at the monk before him, and tried to think how best to frame it. “And you… and the other caretakers?”
“We are bound to the temple by choice. I have served my gods for many centuries now, and I will continue to do so for many more. Being here provides peace that many spirits might otherwise not get, even with a cleansing.” The old man replied, and gave him a stern glance. “Some of us will never be able to let go of the past, and if we weren’t in service to our gods, we would roam endlessly, and be under the influence of the energy around us.”
Yuuji swallowed. “So the spirits here… can’t otherwise find peace?” He didn’t like the sound of that, even if they had a home. Afterall… every soul deserved its rightful end, not caught in this halfway state forever. “Are you…unhappy?” He asked tentatively.
“My emotions cannot be quantified in such simple terms,” The man replied. “It would do you well not to pry, child.”
Rightfully scolded, Yuuji ducked his head. “My apologies. I simply wanted to see if there was anything I could do to help.”
The spirit's hard gaze softened, minutely as it was. “You are a kind child, Yuuji. But no, you cannot. It is not meant to be for all of us.” A cold hand touched Yuuji’s chin, and he shivered, lifting his head up to meet the spirit's eyes. “What you did today was all you can do, and I thank you for it. To be devoured by a curse is the worst fate a spirit can fathom.”
“Why did it want to eat her?” Yuuji whispered, and felt his eyes burn. “I was so scared, but when I saw her-”
“Why does anything eat, child? Curses are hungry. They feed on energy of all kinds, twisting souls into power so they can grow stronger. Sorcerers like yourself are the only ones, aside from gods, that are capable of slaying such creatures.” The gentle coldness left his skin, and Yuuji gripped the blankets closer to his body. The spirit continued. “It is why I accepted you here, and why we have in the past tried to have sorcerers in our company. You are a blessing, Yuuji, and I encourage you to be ready. That curse will hardly be the last to approach here, and our gods have not been to renew the wards for a long time.”
In that moment, there were many questions he wanted to ask, but none came to his tongue. He wanted to protest, wanted to cry and beg, because he was not the weapon they thought he was. He had acted on frightened instinct, and gotten lucky through his natural strength. The idea of facing such a monster again shook him to his core, and he wasn’t sure he could do it.
But could he leave, knowing that his new home would be left unprotected?
He didn’t think he could.
So instead, he summoned his courage, and foolhardy bravado, and gave the spirit a smile. “I’ll be here.”
Pleased, the monk nodded, and in a blink he was standing, almost across the small room that Yuuji realised were his quarters. The old man made to leave, but returned his smile. “Thank you. Now, if you head to the bathhouse, I think you’ll find my disciples have readied a bath for you, in gratitude.”
Yuuji gaped. They could do that? And here he was, hauling water in from the well once a week to bathe, having to wait the full day for the water to heat enough for his liking. “Uh… thank you!” He replied, and shoved himself to his feet. He hadn’t had a proper bath in months.
“Don’t get used to it, child,” the monk told him, before he vanished.
As Yuuji ran down the corridor, blanket wrapped around his hips like a skirt, he laughed.
He absolutely would get used to it. He’d do the spirits favours every damn day if it meant he could have hot baths.
~
Time seemed to pass slowly after that, as days turned into weeks, which turned into months. Yuuji kept track of the passing days in a small calendar he made in his journal, and used it to prepare for the coming of each season. His routine rarely changed as the months went by, his chores the same as always, and his time toiling in the gardens only got easier as they became more established. With his free time, he exercised, burning off his energy and keeping himself fit and ready, should he have to protect the shrine again.
And he did.
As the months went on, so did the world around him, and curses began to become more and more frequent. Maybe it was the wearing down of the wards, as the old monk had mentioned, or maybe the influx of spirits that called the shrine it’s home were a natural beacon, but as they came, so did their predators.
After two years, Yuuji realised he’d slaughtered over sixteen curses, and he would write down the details of each one, so he could reflect and remember. He’d had to mend the ground by the Torii at least five of those times, and each time, he’d cleanse the shrine so many times over he’d be exhausted by the end. His clothes from his old life were long gone, steadily worn down or ruined, and any that had survived, he’d outgrown. He’d been a child, barely fifteen when his gramps had passed, and was now on his way to adulthood. Clothes similar to the spirits he saw were given to him, laid out on his bed once a year, and Yuuji had taken to mending his older clothes each time he got a new pair, trying to reuse the precious fabric. In the summers, he’d wear no shirt, and in the winters he’d wear two. Sometimes, he wore hardly any clothes at all, simply for the fact that he was the only living creature around, and he didn’t see much point. The spirits didn’t care if he cleaned the temple steps in just his underwear, so long as the steps got cleaned in the first place.
One outfit, Yuuji had pieced together from the remains of his old clothes, his old life, he wore only when he had to venture to the nearest town for supplies. The first time he’d left, he’d been anxious and excited in turns. Anxious, because what if something happened when he was gone?
Excited, because he hadn’t been around living humans in so long, and he craved the connection to the outside world. With a promise to return soon, he’d set off for the first time six months into his living there, when he absolutely couldn’t scrape by without supplies any longer.
He’d had some money in his bag when he’d left his grandfather- not much, but enough given that he so rarely spent it, and supplemented it with trading when he went into town.
It was a small village, nestled into the mountains, and the first time he’d visited, he’d been received with suspicion and concern. After all, travellers rarely came from inside the old forest, and he’d looked far too young to be travelling on his own.
Now, several years later, they welcomed Yuuji with open arms and cheerful smiles each month, and in return for things like fabric, seeds and soaps, Yuuji offered his own tea blend, or some of his recent harvests. Once, he’d even brought in a whole deer, because even though it had been an accident when he’d caught it in his trap, he couldn’t deny that he could use the supplies. Two men had helped him skin it, and he’d exchanged the majority of the meat for their labour - only keeping a small portion for himself. What Yuuji had needed most were the antlers and pelt, and he made an arrangement with the local herbalist that if she used the fat for soap, he would let her keep over half.
Perhaps it was that incident, but afterwards, they were a lot kinder to him. He mentioned he lived at the temple once, to the herbalist Hada, and she’d gone pale.
“You… live there?” She’d asked, voice quiet as if the spirits would hear her.
“Yeah, it’s pretty nice now. I’ve fixed it up.” He’d replied, and that was that. He was fairly certain that if it wasn’t for his love of the local food, that the villagers would think he was a ghost himself. Still, so long as they liked his tea, and gave him the supplies he couldn’t make on his own, they could think he was a dog for all he cared.
It helped that the dumplings they made there were divine, even if he had to do a day’s work to get any.
And so the years dragged by, season by season, and Yuuji had been right when the deer pelt came in handy when the next winter was particularly cruel.
There had been a lot more spirits needing cleansing after that season, and Yuuji let out his frustrations on curse number seventeen.
He’d settled in, had truly made a home, and while he sometimes wondered about his future, he couldn’t find it in himself to disrupt the life he’d managed to build. Steadily however, the number of curses grew more and more, and by the fourth year, he was facing two every month on average, sometimes three. His grandfather’s dagger served him well, and each time he fought he felt like he was on fire, the emotion running through his veins and into every hit he gave. He’d been cut, and beaten, and once had his arm broken, which made his life very hard for the month or so after. Thankfully, the spirits baths would aid his minor injuries, and when it was too much, he managed to make the long trip to Hada, who would help mend him for a box of his tea.
Where Yuuji had once been a scrawny child, he was now lean muscle, and as his hair grew longer, he’d taken to messily chopping it off with his blade, until it hung just out of his eyes. The pink hue never faded, and the dark reds of his stubble growing on his face meant he’d had to teach himself how to shave. At times, he missed his gramps like a stolen limb, and wished he was there with him. Others, he wondered if he could go back home, if his father’s family would accept him now that he was older, but he always brushed it aside.
Yuuji Itadori was no more, that name gone when his grandfather passed. Now he was simply Yuuji, and he felt free that way. The spirits didn’t care that his family hadn’t wanted him, nor did they care if he was loud, or restless at times. In fact, he’d made friends with the more present caretakers, and he often caught them giggling at his antics. He didn’t mind fighting monsters any more, even if the dark feeling that grew in the air when a curse approached still made his heart skip a beat, and his knees shake.
He had something to protect now, and he was prepared to do it.
Which is why one spring day, when Yuuji felt a heavy presence at the Torii, he didn't hesitate to grab his dagger and sprint to the front of the temple. It had been weeks since the last curse had attacked, and Yuuji had been antsy for the next one, the time between attacks growing shorter and shorter. He hadn’t had this long of uninterrupted peace in over a year, and he’d been waiting for it to pass.
The spirits were active as he raced through the shrine. He’d been doing laundry, a new batch of soap had been made the week prior, and he’d had a lot of catching up to do. He’s not exactly in prime fighting gear because of it - his flowing red pants were the only thing he was wearing, and his skin felt slick from the washing water. Still, he doesn’t pause in his sprinting - there’s nothing he owns that he wants to risk getting cursed blood all over it again, and he doesn’t have time to stop anyway.
Whatever curse is approaching the temple gates, is powerful. More powerful than any he’s faced before, and the air feels thick with its energy. He dodged one spirit after another as they bundled together, and their whispered words were too indistinct and panicked for him to make out, so he ignored them.
When he rounded the last corner, Yuuji froze, feet sliding on the stone floors as he forced himself to a stop.
Because the creature stopped at the Torii looked human. Well, kinda, Yuuji corrected, as he took in the four arms that braced against the stone gate. It was a man - or at least it looked like one - and he was tall. So tall that his head nearly reached halfway up the Torii, and Yuuji swallowed as he locked eyes with the four, piercing red ones.
If this was a curse, it wasn’t anything like the animalistic monsters he’d fought before.
The curse looked at him, a calculating, intelligent look on his face, and Yuuji straightened to his full height. If it was intelligent, he could reason with it - more so than any of the others he’d had to fight. He’d always given each curse a chance, and this would be no different, so despite his instincts screaming at him to get away, Yuuji took a careful step forward, dagger clenched in his right hand.
“I am the protector of this shrine, and I ask that any business you have here leaves it, and its inhabitants, unharmed and in peace.” Yuuji warned, and took another step closer. “If you have come to do this place harm, I will be forced to remove you from the premises.”
The stone work of the gateway crumbled under the curse’s tense grip as he flexed, all four arms rippling, and Yuuji tracked their movement. The curse’s shoulders were covered in animal pelts, and a white kimono underneath covered his legs. Still, as his many arms moved, he could see blank bands of ink trace across the curse’s skin, and as he assessed the curse for more threats, he noticed the black markings decorating his face. They must’ve gone across his whole body. He certainly hadn't seen any curses with tattoos before.
Yuuji fell into a battle stance as the rock crumbled, and froze as the curse before him growled.
“Remove me?” The curse said, tone dark and promising bloodshed. “ Who are you to decide that?” Worn sandals made noise against the stone path as the curse drew closer, a dark energy radiating off of his very being.
Shifting his weight and bringing his dagger forward, Yuuji stood strong. “My name is Yuuji, and it is my duty to remove and kill curses, should they endanger this sacred temple. You are not welcome here.” He told the curse, and waited for the inevitable attack. He’d never gotten a response from a curse before. Frankly, he’d never expected one.
The curse sneered. “So you’re the brat that’s been killing all of the curses around here.” He stood taller, and the ground shook as he took another awful step. “And you insult me, by mistaking me for one of those pathetic weaklings.”
“Stop, or I will be forced to attack!” Yuuji ordered, and forced his fear and rage into his hands, gripping the dagger so hard until it dug into his skin, drawing blood. It glinted a light blue, like lightning across the metal blade, and the curse paused, and looked down in interest.
“Where did you get that?” The curse said, before leaning in close. “It’s not a toy for children.”
Yuuji rankled at the implication. He hadn’t been a child for a long time now. “I’m no child, curse. And it doesn’t concern you where I got my weapon.”
For a moment, there was silence, before the curse laughed, a dark and smooth sound that set the hair across his body on end. “You must be a child, to not know that what stands before you is no curse, but a god.”
What…
Yuuji gripped the dagger harder. “You’re lying!”
“I don’t need to lie in my own shrine, Brat, and I should kill you for your insolence.” He looked around. “ Where are my servants? Where’s Akira?”
My own shrine…
“I am here, Lord Sukuna.” A stern, familiar voice called out, and Yuuji whirled around to see the old monk, standing on the temple steps behind him.
…lord… “Sukuna?” Yuuji asked, and turned back to face the cruel smile of the cur-
-the God before him.
“Akira,” Sukuna rasped. “ See to it that my quarters are prepared. I will deal with this brat.”
The old man, who Yuuji now knew was called Akira, nodded, and gave a deep bow. “I only ask, my Lord, that you go easy on him. He is young, and not versed in the old ways. However, “ the spirit gave Yuuji a kind smile. “He has done well to tend to this shrine and keep us all safe.”
Sukuna scoffed. “Is that so?” He gave Yuuji a calculating look, all four eyes tracing down his bare chest, and his still wet pants. “He insulted me.”
Yuuji was right there, and god or not, he didn’t like being talked about. “It’s my job to protect this shrine. It’s not my fault you feel like a curse.”
Akira gasped behind him, and in the time it took Yuuji to process he maybe shouldn’t have said that, Sukuna was in front of him, and the dagger Yuuji held aloft slid into soft, warm skin. Sukuna didn’t even flinch, as blood dripped down his hips.
“I should rip out your tongue and eat it, brat , but I’m feeling merciful. Remove yourself from my sight, and you might keep your eyes.” Sukuna growled, before pushing Yuuji back with so much force that he landed on the hard steps behind him. The man pulled out the dagger as if it was a needle, and threw it to the ground, blood splattering over the stone that Yuuji spent so long cleaning that morning.
“Akira!” The god snapped. “I want my bath to be hotter than the sun, and I want it now.”
“Yes, Lord Sukuna,” Akira bowed, before he vanished.
Sukuna gave Yuuji a hard glare, and despite his better sense, Yuuji glared back. What was wrong with him? Did he want to get killed?
Except this was
his
home dammit, and he didn’t take kindly to being pushed around in it. He wasn't a child any more, and this wouldn't be like his family.
“Do you have anything to say, Brat?” Sukuna remarked, and Yuuji snarled.
“My warning still stands. Harm anyone here and I will kill you.” Yuuji told him, and bit his lip so hard it drew blood. “I don’t care if you’re a god, or a curse. I’ll protect this place.” He held his chin high, even as the blood on his lips trickled down the side of his mouth. He wiped it away with a flick of his tongue, and held his gaze.
Sukuna was the one that looked away, eyes tracing the movement of Yuuji’s tongue, and something in the god shifted, because he rolled his eyes. “You sorcerers are all the same.” He gave him another long look. “I’ll let you live, for now. But you will pay for your insult today.”
And then he was gone, stalking up the temple steps and vanishing inside, leaving Yuuji alone in the courtyard.
Pay?
That didn't sound good.
Yuuji shoved himself to his feet with a huff. He'd apologise if the god did anything to deserve it. Until then, Yuuji wasn't going to just roll over and take his abuse. God or not.
He brushed himself off and warily headed back into the temple. He still had laundry to do.
And a lot of questions for Akira. The man couldn't have stepped in sooner? Maybe before Yuuji insulted a god?
Dammit. Yuuji thought. Gramps would hate this.