Chapter Text
Smoke and dust encased the city, with nothing but misery in the air. The small tissues of flesh scattered on the ground –along with dried, dark red blood on the gravel– was a jarring sight.
More than half the city was gone, and the only people found alive were about to die yet knew better to waste their breath on talking. All were left to rot in a concrete graveyard known as Shibuya.
A 15 year old was on his knees, muttering and chanting the sentence ‘It’s my fault’ like it's his last prayer.
Yuji’s throat tightens with pure guilt while his hands dig deep into the injured concrete. The air was humid because of blood splattered, leaving an uncomfortable warmth behind.
“Everyone…” He breathed. “They’re all dead.” Yuuji's eyes were blurry with tears, as if ugly crying was his way out of the situation. His breathing started becoming shallow as his chest contracted, about to puke from the thought of multiple casualties.
His deep whimpers contrasted heavily with the silence of the city, even lacking the usual mechanical hum.
“Now, whose fault is that?” a deep voice questioned, the sudden noise making him shiver. Sukuna was still within him, awake with vainglory. Yuuji just wished he could die right then and there.
Feeling the bloodlust within Sukuna was just overbearing–It's like his existence was made for taunting him and and taunting him only. If he wasn't so distracted crying, he would be surprised how his thirst for blood still attacked even after the massacre he caused.
“If you didn't let that volcano prick feed me another finger, then maybe your friends wouldn't be dead, aren't I right?” Sukuna chuckles to himself, taunting the poor boy even further than needed.
He thought about it– how it all started and felt even more guilty than earlier. His heart clenched in guilt. The two girls he killed, Mahito and Nobara, Namami, and Gojo trapped. No matter how hard he thought about it, the majority of it led back to him. If only he had the strength.
Sukuna didn't let Yuuji respond. “Let me help you. Allow me to rip out your heart so maybe you'll reincarnate somewhere better” He chuckled. The offer sounded trumpets before he was ripped from this so-called heaven. He went quiet in thought yet again.
The sequestered city was lacking Yuji’s remark.
Sukuna also went quiet. ‘No way he's genuinely considering this, right?’ Although he was indeed serious about the offer, having Yuji of all people consider it worried him ever so slightly. Him being suicidal was an oxymoron, since he’s probably the happiest teen alive–or atleast he was the happiest teen alive.
His stained fingers trinkled up his chest, as he felt his heartbeat which was slower than usual. The empty office buildings and skyscrapers suddenly felt small, and like they were staring at him.
A loud, tearing noise ripped through the air.
.
.
The cold air blazed through the hole that was now his chest, and blood was scattered all over his hands. Yuuji stared at his heart, slowing down its beating with every passing second. The voice of Sukuna yelling at him was muffled, now a gentle whisper caressing his mind.
The four seconds of consciousness after ripping out his heart was excruciating, but there was no point of screaming.
The insults being thrown at him were the least of his worries, as his vision blurred and everything turned darker than it already was. He felt the nauseating feeling of throwing up yet again, his legs folding and his vision started missing chunks. Yuuji’s breathing got more shallow, but he closed his eyes in defeat. What a stupid decision.
The warmth of the sun made its way through the dark and glared down onto his body, as illegible chattering was in the background. His eyes fluttered open once again, this time to a city that's full of life and entertainment.
The first thing Yuuji spots are massive billboards peeking through, advertising miscellaneous products with what looks like cartoonish superheroes plastered on them. ‘How childish.’ is the first thing he says to himself. Although Sukuna isn't talking as of now, he knows he would've agreed.
The second thing he spots is his chest– still stained in blood that's fresh– yet the hole it’s sourced from suddenly disappeared as if nothing had happened. The feeling of the breeze going through that hole as he made his way to the floor was indelible, so there's no way he's dreaming nor made that up.
Did he actually reincarnate? A cat scattered away from him in fear, and he finally realizes he's in a dark alleyway with garbage and other stuff of the sort. He probably looked horrid, his hair and uniform stained with blood as well as scars plastered throughout his body, but nothing's worse than the half of his cheek missing.
He stares at the alley; glaring into the dark without meaning to. A poster of a strong, blonde guy sits in the garbage ripped up, and an abandoned bird's nest sat atop of the wires that draped down from the electric poles. Even this so far happy place had its darkness sometimes..
With a huff of confidence that he gained from nowhere, he steps out the alleyway into the light. People look.. not like people. Someone has elongated limbs, others have insane colors for skin, fuck, even dog like people are roaming the streets. The lack of cursed energy in the world was jarring, as it lurked everywhere. Maybe he just lost his senses temporarily?
He realizes he was zoning out after a woman screams while looking at him. It catches the attention of a few people, as he collects grossed out and horrified looks every passing second. Well, he was covered in blood after all. People visibly avoid him, creating a crater in the walkway.
Without giving it much thought, quite well aware of how he looks, Yuuji continued forward onto the sidewalk. He started to get suspicious of the lack of commentary from the-one-who-shall-not-be-named-as-of-now. The guy would be laughing his ass off at how unique everyone looked– and at him.
Yuuji never would've thought he'd miss his terrorist.