Chapter Text
“Why would anything want to eat this?”
“You do it to gain stronger cursed energy.”
Fushiguro watched helplessly as the teenager he’d only met that day risked his own life to combat a creature he had no experience, no knowledge, and no means of power to claim victory.
Itadori was caught between two grotesque arms in an unwavering hold. Held in the air above that monstrosity of a cursed spirit, all Itadori could do was flail his legs and helplessly contort his body to no avail. Freedom would not be earned this way. All that came of Yuji’s struggle was the immediate descent into the cursed spirit’s maw, only to be stopped when the struggling teenager dug his heels into the creature’s teeth to prevent himself from being lowered further.
The strength on display was unlike anything Fushiguro had expected from a civilian without an inkling of cursed energy beyond the object currently dangling from his mouth. Surely, if he’d let go of the mummified finger and allowed it to fall down the cursed spirit’s throat, there was a chance he’d be let free. Itadori had enough speed and stamina to outrun whatever special grade was being mutated from the already powerful spirit, but such a selfish act was foreign to him. Fushiguro had already witnessed it firsthand when Itadori had jumped into the building to save his unfortunate classmates. And yet, despite this, Fushiguro would still urge Itadori to drop the damn object and run. There would be no surviving in his current state, and with Fushiguro’s options for fighting back rapidly whittling down to one singular choice even if his body was struggling against his will to move—
The teenager in the cursed spirit’s grasp knocked his head back with enough force to toss the cursed finger high above his head.
“There is a way to save everyone!” Itadori declared in desperation, straining his lungs to shout his final thoughts before gravity took hold of the cursed object reflected in his eyes. “I just need some cursed energy, right, Fushiguro!?”
It had taken a second longer than it should have for the meaning of Itadori’s words to reveal themselves. By then, it was too late, and Fushiguro was forced to bear witness to Itadori widening his jaw in preparation to catch the means by which he would achieve the necessary cursed energy to deal a proper blow against the beast.
“Don’t!”
Fushiguro’s plea would fall on deaf ears. Itadori had already made up his mind, willing to risk it all on the slight chance that he, or at the very least, everyone else may be able to walk away with their lives on this accursed night. All the sorcerer could do was hold his breath in anticipation for the mummified finger to be swallowed by Itadori, but that sight never came.
All of a sudden, an invisible blade cut through the air, the clouds, and even the stars themselves in one giant sweep to split the cursed finger in two just before it could ever pass through Itadori’s lips. An impossible feat. Such an object was said to be indestructible, as countless sorcerers over the last thousand years had all tested their blades— literal and metaphorical —against any finger that had been unearthed from the scattered set of twenty.
Not even Gojo could destroy those mummified fingers, and he was the strongest sorcerer of them all. So how was Fushiguro able to witness an impossible task be carried out before his eyes?
Crazier still was the array of strikes dicing the beast still grasping Itadori tight. The cursed spirit crumbled beneath him, and based on the baffled look in Itadori’s eyes, Fushiguro could only assume that none of this had been his doing. How could it? Itadori had no cursed energy, which meant that someone else must have—
“Must you always get yourself into trouble, brat?”
A voice that eerily resonated with Fushiguro’s ears preceded the arrival of an unknown party. The sorcerer’s eyes weren’t able to keep up with his speed, making it appear as though the man teleported above the splattering curse to catch Itadori within his arms. To make the scene even harder for Fushiguro’s eyes to comprehend, the man— A sorcerer? —stood on the air as if it were nothing. Yet, this was not Gojo in front of him.
This man did not possess the same white hair nor cocky grin and ear-grating laughter that came with having to play the princely savior at a time like this. Pink, slicked-back hair nearly the same shade as Itadori’s was found instead. His attire bore no symbols or even a hint that he was affiliated with Jujutsu Tech—Though Fushiguro would have been forgiven for assuming otherwise due to the stranger’s black kimono being of a similar shade to their uniform.
“Well? Do you have anything to say for yourself?” The newcomer spoke again, commanding Itadori to speak when every word the teenager could think of had failed him. Itadori’s expression, however, was very telling all on its own. There was no recognition, at least none that instilled relief or excitement. His eyes remained wide, his mouth slightly hung open as he stuttered out something vaguely resembling an objection that no one would believe if current circumstances were testimony to his history.
“I-I-well, he was, you know—”
Itadori’s lack of coherency led to a sudden snap in the teenager’s mind. He’d finally registered he was being carried bridal style in the air, but just as he was about to flail about or attempt to speak his demands to be let down, the man enveloped Itadori’s forehead with his palm.
“Rest.”
Fushiguro felt the man’s cursed energy activate from where he stood. No, where he was now collapsed onto his knees as his body could no longer carry his own weight on its own. Everything about it felt wrong. Twisted, mangled, invasive— His whole body recoiled at the wave of residuals emanating from the man’s core.
He felt like a curse.
Worse than that, this man felt like the very curse embedded within that mummified finger Fushiguro had been sent to retrieve. How could that be?
It wasn’t until the man dropped to the ground with Itadori in tow that Fushiguro noticed the marks on his skin. Black ink in perfect symmetry on either side of the man’s body defined his cheeks, drew bands around his wrists, and even dipped below his chest as far as the opening on the man’s front allowed Fushiguro to see. They did not glow, but something about the shape of the marks had their image seared into the sorcerer’s head. Everything about them— about him —screamed danger and there was little that Fushiguro could do, aside from his skepticism of this man’s benevolent actions feeding into his nerves.
“What did you do to him?” Fushiguro coughed out, internally cursing at the damage he’d incurred from being thrown out of the building mere minutes prior.
“I’ve done no harm.” The man glared over his shoulder. His sneer revealed canines sharper than any normal person should possess and for a brief moment, Fushiguro swore he caught a glimpse of a second eye below the first. If that man wasn’t human, if Fushiguro were to assume that as a possibility, then he needed to get Itadori as far away from him. “I would not dare break him after the amount of trouble it took to come here. The things you make me do…”
Red eyes turned down at the unconscious teenager. Solemn, almost mournful, and yet they glowed with a hunger so ravenous that Fushiguro had to choke down the impending shudder through his spine. Only after a curt pause did the man begin to walk away without anything further to add. He held no interest in the sorcerer behind him, nor did he care about the low-level cursed spirits flocking to his feet as he sought to cut through the building on his way out.
A word— barely a whisper that Fushiguro’s ears did not catch but his eyes observed the movements of the man’s jaw —was all it took for the remaining spirits to ignite into ash. No gesture was needed. No lengthy incantation. The radius was not limited to the immediate area either, but to the entire building as if to ensure that there would be no further interruption in his departure.
“Where are you taking him? Who— What are you!?”
The man stopped and clicked his tongue.
“What am I? How impudent.” As soon as their eyes connected, Fushiguro registered the sweat beading down his neck. He had poked the slumbering beast. His due punishment, however, would not come. There was no need to waste the energy, unless Fushiguro wished to attempt to fight with nothing but an untamed shadow just likely to do him and Itadori harm as the man now literally holding said teenager’s life in his hands. “Who and what does not matter. I am simply here to take what is mine. Our destination isn’t yours to know. Be grateful, Fushiguro Megumi—”
Within an instant, the man now loomed over him. Cast underneath the shadow of another, Fushiguro snapped his head back with his own body on the verge of wobbling off-balance to look up at the eyes of someone channeling every ounce of their being into self-restraint.
“—Even in this laughably short amount of time, this brat’s attachment to you is enough to cause him sadness should you depart from this world. My atonement to him is my capacity to overlook your existence. Your role is done. Now scurry off back to your cretinous sensei before I change my mind.”
Atonement?
Role?
And how did he know his name?
Before Fushiguro could press for further clarity, both the man disappeared from sight with nothing but the ghastly sound of chimes in the wind to fill in the void left behind. The surrounding air immediately decompressed and the ability to breathe freely was restored. The only relief Fushiguro felt was for his own life remaining intact, but it paled in comparison to the panic still gripping his chest tight. Itadori, the strange teenager whom he just met, the one who had claimed to have no prior knowledge of the world or sorcerers or cursed spirits had been kidnapped by something far more dangerous than either.
He needed his phone. He needed to call Gojo. Perhaps his sensei could track him down, provide answers, explain just what the hell was going… on…
“Gojo-sensei…”
And just like that, Fushiguro fell to the effects of his injuries. His head bobbed forward and his limbs grew heavy with his eyelids following shortly behind. His body had reached a limit. And in Fushiguro’s final breaths before passing out, he managed to utter two more words just as he sensed the approach of someone familiar. Someone he could trust, whether he wished it or not.
“F-find… Itadori…”
Yuji’s head split open before he found himself stirring awake. At least, that was how he would describe the splitting headache afflicting his brain. His own heartbeat was felt pulsating against his skull, and every bit of pressure from the very pillows he rested against only strove to make this worse. It was not until he moved and brushed his fingers against his sheets during his next recoil did he realize that these were not, in fact, his sheets.
The mattress was not his own either.
This was enough to jolt Yuji awake. Suddenly shifting from his back to sitting up straight only strained his head further, but that wouldn’t stop Yuji from forcing his eyes open while his hands clasped the side of his skull to keep it steady.
He recognized this room. It was not a place he’d ever stepped foot in before, nor one he’d seen detail for detail. He didn’t need to in order to understand that he was in a hotel room. A nice hotel room. Clean and well-kept, the curtains were kept closed with not an inkling of light sneaking through. If there was an alarm, Yuji couldn’t find it at the angle he’d woken up at. Deviating to turn his head wasn’t an option, as he was too focused on the man with hair in a similar shade to his own resting in the chair facing the foot of his bed. Maybe this stranger’s hair was a shade or two darker, but that could also be the lighting. It was uncanny, to say the least.
Yuji’s open jaw snapped shut once he’d registered the situation he was in. All of his moving had certainly made enough noise, but the guy in front of him had his arms crossed and eyes closed. Was he asleep? Muddled memories of the night before failed to come back in full, but Yuji was certain that this was the same man who’d saved him from that cursed spirit-thing Fushiguro and he fought at the school—The school!
“Sasaki, Iguchi!”
Were they alright? What about Fushiguro?
He had to—
Just as Yuji tossed the covers and jumped to his feet, vertigo struck. Yuji tripped over his own feet, head spinning once more as he hit the nearby wall with an embarrassing thud. He probably would have collapsed entirely if it wasn’t for the large hand holding him up from underneath to keep him steady.
“Your friends will live. Sit.”
Yuji hadn’t even heard the guy get out of his chair, but there was no mistaking that deep voice whispering into his ear for any other. Unable to effectively push back, Yuji obeyed and allowed himself to be coaxed backward until he was sitting on the edge of his bed.
If he wasn’t allowed to leave, the least this guy could do was give him some answers.
“Who are you?” The teenager craned his neck back as far as it could go before triggering his vertigo a second time. He would have appeared to be glaring, but the truth was that Yuji was fighting the light coming into his eyes from the bedside table more than the man standing over him. “Where am I? That cursed spirit, is it…?”
“Reduced to ash. As for where you are, you’re in a hotel.”
“Yeah, I kind of got that. But where?”
“Across town.” Again with a vague answer.
“Fine. Sure, don’t tell me.” Yuji snapped. His head was far too heavy to keep up, so he sought to lower it into his palms instead. “Can I at least get your name? Or is that against whatever rules you Yakuza types have?”
“Yakuza? Ah, right, because of the tattoos… I’m not a part of an organization like that. Nor any organization. The thought of taking orders from another is laughable.” A brief chuckle at the thought followed before the man added, “My name is Sukuna.”
Sukuna.
The man said it as if it were obvious. Either it was supposed to be common knowledge or Yuji himself should just know better than to question it. And to be fair, the name sounded familiar, but not in any way that made sense. Vague was the best way to describe it. Almost intrinsic. Yet there was no way of determining under what circumstances Yuji would have heard it before. Sukuna was by no means a common name.
“Am I supposed to know you from somewhere?”
“No,” His answer made Yuji’s squint harder. “But I am your… older brother.”
Um, what?
“I have an older brother?” Yuji’s mind was static to the news, unable to fully process the full weight of those words and what they entailed. “Since when?”
“Since always.” Now the guy— his apparent older brother! —was getting cross with him. “Is this really that hard to comprehend? As if the hair isn’t telling enough.”
“Just a little bit. You know, considering the whole ‘You’ve never been mentioned once or showed up in my life until today bit.’” It was Yuji’s turn to get snippy. He would have been more grateful, hell, more excited over the news of additional family if it wasn’t piled on the many things that managed to transpire over the last twenty-four hours. In all fairness, Sukuna didn’t deserve the attitude, especially after he’d stepped before Yuji swallowed that cursed object… Still, frustration won out. Emotions were fickle like that.“Where have you been? Especially now? The old man is…”
“Wasuke and I would never get along.” Sukuna filled in the silence Yuji’s words had left behind. His eyes had turned away, and his words were chosen carefully. Yuji could hear that in the subtle pauses and the tight feeling of sympathy, he was too angry to accept hinting that there was a lot of additional baggage that would be left unspoken, if only for their first proper conversation together. “It was only natural I wouldn’t be around.”
“Is it because of the cursed spirit, Jujutsu stuff?”
The quick flick of Sukuna’s eyes back to Yuji confirmed that the teenager’s shot in the dark hit its target.
“...Yes.”
“Are you a sorcerer too? Like Fushiguro?”
“Hardly.” Sukuna scoffed. “I had exorcised that cursed spirit to save your ass. I rarely move my hand on behalf of others beyond that. Consider yourself an exception which should have you groveling at my feet in gratitude.”
“I had it under control just fine!” Suddenly, Yuji felt the need to defend himself. Perhaps it was Sukuna’s tone causing him to object to whatever ‘greater-than-thou’ attitude he was witnessing. Asking for recognition for a good deed was one thing, but that… This guy was full of himself.
“You were about to throw away your life.”
“I was handling it.”
“Did you not hear me, brat? You had no idea what object you were about to swallow down into your gullet. Your life could have ended. Ceased. And if it hadn’t—” Sukuna stepped forward to grab Yuji by the collar of his hoodie. He lifted the teenager up from the bed, forcing their eyes to continue glaring at one another despite the lack of space causing all sorts of discomfort. If Yuji was any more delirious, he would have believed his so-called older brother’s eyes were radiating a glow all of their own instead of the reflection of light from the bedside lamp. “What would the old man think if he saw you?”
“What right do you have to bring him up?” Yuji snapped his teeth. Struggling out of Sukuna’s grip felt pointless, given the strength of a hold the man had, but he tried nonetheless while his legs kicked about underneath him. “You haven’t been— How the hell would you know anything about him after all this time?”
His verbal retaliation was enough to get Sukuna’s hands to lax. That was what Yuji told himself as his vision clouded with the beginnings of tears he did not want to shed.
“You’re right.” Sukuna dropped Yuji without warning. “I don’t have any right.”
No apology came after. No remorse. Only acknowledgment before Sukuna stepped aside to place himself on the bed next to Yuji’s side.
Neither of them spoke for a bit. Yuji didn’t dare look at Sukuna. Not while the redness of his face was still present and his eyes were hellbent on soaking through his sleeves. He’d stifled any sniffles or bids for additional breath that came with intense moments such as these, but that didn’t stop Yuji from thinking lowly of himself for succumbing to them.
“I just… I wanted to…” Yuji choked through his words, eventually growing frustrated to the point of taking in a deep breath and hissing at just how awful his insides felt. He shouldn’t have to justify his actions, and yet he wanted to defend himself! “Fushiguro was hurt, my senpais—”
“I know.” His brother muttered. “You’re a selfless soul. You only wanted to help.”
“That’s what Jiji said. He told me to help others when I can.” Open palms greeted Yuji as he looked down. Clenching his first provided the necessary empowerment in his stance to continue. “I wanted to live up to that wish.”
“There would be no living acting as you did. Impulsive and without self-preservation… He wouldn’t have wanted your life to end that way.” Sukuna extended his arm around Yuji’s shoulder, dragging him close without forcing him to become any more enveloped in his older sibling than what he was comfortable with. “I certainly don’t.”
Those words were enough for Yuji to break all over again. He felt so stupid in hindsight. Despite knowing he’d make all the same decisions again if circumstances remained the same, the thought of disappointing his grandfather’s memory was enough for reality to come crashing down around him.
It was enough for Yuji to fall into Sukuna’s hold and allow himself to be cradled properly. His older brother wasn’t perfect. His posture was rigid and he clearly wasn’t used to acting with others in mind as his prior words were to be believed, but the attempt alone was nice. If Sukuna’s had come a second later, then they may have never… God.
What a horrible day.
“Sukuna.” Yuji eventually lifted his chin, already consumed by the countless tasks ahead of him after losing his grandfather and the aftermath of yesterday’s encounter with the cursed spirit. To have his own brother appear… What was he to do now? “What are we doing here? Or, I guess, what’s going to happen now?”
“We’ll be residing here for another night or so. I still need to collect your things from the house, so you’ll need to make a list of essentials. The rest can be dealt with at a later date.” Sukuna knocked back his head, his eyes flickering through the list of things on his mind. “I’m taking you in now that the old man has passed away. You’re fifteen. Current law states you still need a guardian.”
“Oh.”
That made sense. It was no wonder that Sukuna was in the area to begin with. The nurses could have called next of kin after delving into Wasuke’s children and subsequent grandchildren a bit more, or the old man could have reached out before his passing to ensure Yuji was taken care of. Imagining that phone call, the reluctance and possible bitter feelings on either end… His grandfather would have hated it, but he would have bore the brunt of his frustration if it meant he could rest knowing Yuji was taken care of.
He was a good man like that.
“And where are we going after this?”
“Out of Sendai. Away from all that… If we stay here, you’re going to be tracked down and questioned for what you experienced last night. I can’t afford you being dragged into something that there is no good reason for you to be a part of this— I don’t want you involved.”
“But those weren’t the only cursed spirits out there, were they? Fushiguro spoke about them like they’re all over Japan.” Recalling the finer details of their conversation in the hospital was difficult, but not impossible. “Something about missing person’s cases and negative energy… If there are more, then I should—”
“No. You won’t be doing anything.” Sukuna yanked Yuji in tighter, his hand gripping the back of Yuji’s head to prevent him from even attempting to pull away. “If there are others, I’ll protect you. I’m never going to let you get hurt again, do you understand?”
“Sukuna, I—” Such a declaration had Yuji’s tears returning. They were tamer this time around, but it was becoming clear to Yuji that he had no way of understanding this guy at all. This sudden feeling of being staunchly protected by another… He wasn’t used to being on the receiving end in this capacity. Not at all.
“I have a lot to make up for, especially in my absence, so this is where I’ll start.”
“Ok.” Yuji squeaked. It was all he could do while his brain was processing every piece of information, new and old, flooding through his mind. To make matters worse, Sukuna had begun to comb through his hair with his fingers, lulling Yuji back into a welcoming daze his body craved.
“Look at you, you’ve had an eventful day. Knocking you out with cursed energy doesn’t provide any adequate rest. Come on.”
That was all the warning Yuji was given before being guided back onto lying on his side. There was nothing more that Yuji could want in this state but to close his eyes and work through each wave of realization, grief, and acceptance. Too many emotions had not been given their proper time to process, and thus, a quiet moment such as this would be filled with lingering anxiety until his mind completely shut down for the next handful of hours to come.
This trance continued as he felt additional weight shift on the bed behind him. It wasn’t until Sukuna’s arm draped over his back that Yuji noted that his brother was there, holding him close, grounding him through everything that came next. It was more than he ever thought he’d need, yet nothing in him would trade this silent act for anything in the world.
At some point, Yuji would turn around in his sleep and tuck himself up as close as he could into Sukuna’s chest. As if it was instinct, the sound of Sukuna’s heartbeat had synced up with his own. Yuji could only think it was natural. There was no reason to question it, nor would he reflect on why he was so drawn to the embrace of a man who was still very much a stranger.
None of that seemed to matter. Not when he could sleep so soundly knowing everything to come was going to be taken care of. Yuji wasn’t going to be alone.
For better or for worse, he had Sukuna by his side.