Archive of Our Own

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It’s in the dark you come to awareness. It's warm and cramped; and entirely alien in its familiarity. Faintly, you can feel sensations within this small void, ripples in the air around you, a subtle current that churns in beat with great and distant rumblings, and a pins and needles sensation as, what must be you, your limbs and body, twitches involuntarily.You should be panicking. You really should, but you're not.You don’t belong here, yet you are content to be here. There can be nothing better than here, this oxymoron of vastness and smallness, where the growling of what must be a monster soothes you in a way you haven’t felt since you were a child and your parents would hold you close. Peace and safety enfold you completely.Your consciousness slips away and you let it, snuggling back into the dark with a hidden smile. You could rest here forever.There could hardly be anything better.The second awakening is mildly more unpleasant and significantly ruder.
There you are, suspended in heavenly dreams and completely untethered from any worry, a sublime existence if the vague shadows of memory have anything to tell you – and then something is elbowing you in what must be your gut.
Unacceptable.
You respond in kind, lashing out at this interloper, it hadn’t even crossed your mind that there could be something else in this haven with you. How disappointing.Despite your struggles, this new mass is obnoxiously solid and stubborn. It doesn’t seem fully aware of you, not like you are of it, but that doesn’t make its warpath any less brutal. Slowly but surely this new adversary encroaches on your little corner of the world, completely unrelenting as it pushes and pushes and pushes.You are becoming increasingly aware of how little space there is in this haven. Concerning.You are also becoming steadily aware of how the menace is not just usurping your peace, conquering your territory, and pushing you into the spongey boundary of your shared existence, they are now encircling you. You can’t see it, but you can feel it. The larger body, the stronger body, dwarfing you as you’re pulled close and-
Is this thing about to eat you?!?
For the first time, fear taints your little paradise. You don’t want to die, not again! Pins and needles race along your limbs as something grabs your arm, you can feel something else pushing against your legs as you’re pressed into it.There’s a soft thrum that pulses from it, weaker than the great rumbles that come from beyond the haven, and the panic pauses as you take it in.He also stops. Maybe He’s hearing yours.The stillness stretches an odd tension that does not grow or wane, at least from your perspective but sits nestled in the back of your mind.You are afraid.
Fear keeps you alive.
The fear burrows deep, buzzing as your limbs flex and warmth rushes through your blood. It’s electrifying, this fear, burning, as you tremble in the dark and face this adversary head-on. Something charges within you, a lifetime of rage, grief, and sorrow crowning its head, a rebirth of the dying into something that will render this threat dead. And then you hear it.It’s not the thrum of a heart, it’s fainter, a murmur, but the fear freezes and the anger fizzles out in the face of this new curiosity.You don’t even realize you’ve moved closer.You can barely make it out, senseless gibberish that you doubt has any translation to a real language, but you can feel it.
Contentment.

Curiosity.

Interest.

-who are you?-

The question isn’t posed in words exactly, but the meaning is similar enough so your mind translates.

-who are you?-

You don’t know the answer to the question. That should bother you. You don’t care enough for it to bother you. The heat still coils in your body, a current not yet fully dispensed, but you can sense how it wants to lash out, strike at the heart beating so close to you.You don’t know what it would do beyond that. But something tells you it would do something. Something that would not be good for him.For some reason, a part of you flinches at the idea.

-who are you?-

There’s warmth and there’s heat. Something that exists outside of yourself within this haven, and you can feel something between the two of you, a cord pulling you together, knitting you closer even as you push away.
How did you miss that?

-who are you?-

Persistent and stubborn, that’s what this thing is. But the encroachment doesn’t feel hostile, not anymore at least.
Rather than listen to the question-not-question that hurts your head to consider, your focus deviates to the cord. It’s not visual, not entirely, but you can feel its solid and heavy presence. You feel your own heat reach out to the warmth, winding along it and following it to him, threading out to his form in a prodding curiosity.And then it hits you.You can see it, a smiling boy with pink hair, laughing with you under a shining sun as sakura blossoms dance in the wind. You can see him pouting as you refuse to hold his hand out in public, shrieks as you wrestle and launch pillow after pillow at his face, the same peaceful contentedness as you lay bundled in blankets, hearts beating in time just as they did in the womb.The vision fades, but your sight does not. You can see his tears, his anguish, and hear his screams. You see blood and gore. You see violence and death. A city burning. Humans mutilated and tortured. Faces burned, blown apart, and bodies torn apart like Kit Kats. You see moments of joy shattered by endless streams of loss, and you never made it far enough to know if it was worth it.
Who are you?
You’re a victim of Truck-kun and have been blasted into the nightmare creation of a cyclops-cat. In short; You’re fucked. You can imagine that birth is a traumatic experience for everyone, now you know that babies are also included in that assumption.You had precious few days left to bask in that blessed uterine haven and resign yourself to the fact that you were now reborn- or to be reborn , in the world of JJK. Time seemed to dwindle as you and your brother were smooshed together and a far too small container.
The haven was now more resemblant of a torture chamber, and your rapidly developing agoraphobia now had to contend with the inherent claustrophobia of the situation at hand.Yuji was very lucky you had decided not to eat him.
Love.

Contentment.

Warmth.
Yes , you can’t help but think as you nuzzle into his side, hearts beating in tune, he was very lucky you decided to keep him around. For the plot.
The fucking plot.
The heat surged again as if your mind were summoning storms with the mere thought of its wrath. Resigned you were maybe, satisfied you were not . It took concentration and effort to match the pace of your heart with your brother, for the burning swarm within you to cool to the same level of his mellow warmth.You felt a hand squeeze your wrist.
Proud.

Love.

Content.
You couldn’t help but echo the feelings back. You dearly missed your space… but you don’t know if could go back to being alone. Not that you’d have much choice in the matter. You probably won’t be given much of a choice of anything.You kick your heel out and dig it into the barrier that surrounds the both of you. You have no proof it will do anything to the corpse-stealer you’ll have the displeasure of calling mother in this lifetime, but the vindictiveness soothes something in you regardless.
Bad.

Mean.

Love.

Nice.
You pat what you think is a face. Well, can’t all be sunshine incarnate, YuYu. The dark haven, a womb, now there a thought , is peaceful and borderline happy in its monotonous existence. It's that very boring existence that makes the slight changes, the rapid tightening of space, the subtle change of flavor around you, the gradual shifting of your positions.It could all be in your head. It’s not like you have any basis to compare to.The sudden disappearance of the warmth that has been fused to your side says otherwise. Yuji is gone. Oh fuck, it begins.There is an inexplicable moment when you try to ignore the obvious, the inevitable doom that’s coming for you. As if you can nestle yourself back into the void and sleep in ignorance.The walls of muscle pushing against you heartily disagree with your attempt. You don’t have a choice in the matter. You are being born whether you like it or not.It would not be an inaccurate statement to say you came out of the womb scowling. Tiny arms crossed over your body, film-covered eyes glaring as the shapeless shadows that poked and prodded you.You couldn’t understand them. Of course, you couldn’t understand them You hadn’t spoken the language before, why would you now?
Your shrill scream, much to the relief of the doctor, was one final curse to the universe before you shrouded yourself in cold apathy.For a baby, it must have looked adorable.The one thing that almost broke your composure, was the high-pitched chattering sounds that echoed in the sterile room. Surprise, your mind supplied. They were surprised. You could feel it, a tangible thing in the room.
Were they not expecting you?
Measured, cleaned, and swaddled you found yourself passed around until you came to your final destination with your twin. Yuji Itadori.
He was there, eyes closed, tiny fist clenched, and brow furrowed; he was there. You were placed down on the same chest, familiar rumblings vibrating just under the warm skin, and the oddness of hearing it on the outside, without the echo you never noticed or the accompanying thrum or your brother’s heart, made you pause. That inferno deep in your gut is smothered by the steady rhythm of Yuji’s heart.You missed it.You may not have a choice about being here, certainly not about where or who you’ve been born to. But you still have a choice. You can still choose what you do. You can’t turn your head, but your eyes somehow find the dull gold ones that look down at you. From within the haze of your vision, Kaori Itadori smiles with all their teeth, and dull eyes already running calculations, you can feel them picking you apart.As your Yuji’s fist finds your wrist, you match that smile with all the gummy malice you can muster. Your entrance into this world was most certainly not planned, your knowledge, limited as it is – why did you give up watching after those spoilers? – would be more valuable than Sukuna himself if used correctly. You are a complication by your mere existence, you have yet to do anything and the beat of your heart is a threat to the ego of the sorcerer that squeezes you.Huh. You and Yuji already have a few things in common besides a face, then. You're both going to give millennia-old men the grey hair they deserve.
Righteous.
Yuji, still clasped on you just as tightly as in the womb, began to fuss. His adorable face scrunching up as your limb was pulled closer, gummy mouth opening to cry, and-A gentle hand cupping his head, thumb rubbing soothingly against wrinkled skin. As Yuji calmed, your gaze couldn’t help but find dark brown eyes peering at you through thick glasses with something that only could be described as awe.“Karera wa utsukushīdesu.” He cooed, “Arigatō, Kaori, anata wa subarashikatta.”You blinked. The words themselves meant nothing, but the love radiating from it transcended language. Jin Itadori smiles and it’s like the heavens have parted for the sun. He picks you up, sparing you from the cold corpse that calls itself mother, and carefully unwrapping Yuji’s fist from your wrist. You are cradled in the crook of his arm and you grab the fingers that trace over you.You can’t tell, not with your baby-vision or the light that reflects from the glasses, but you could swear there are tears in his eyes.“Kono chīsana sapuraizu ni wa namae ga hitsuyōdesu.” he laughs, looking back to his wife. “Yūji to iu namae o tsuke sasete kureta no ni, uchi no musume ni namae o tsukete mimasen ka?”You hear the incubator respond, voice light and strangely indulgent. “Wakaranai. Nanika aidea wa arimasu ka?”
Why couldn’t you be born understanding Japanese?
“Yūki? Sore wa kōfuku o imi shimasu. Sore ni tsuite wa dōdesu ka?”Kaori snorts unimpressed at her husband's words. His suggestions for names didn’t seem to fit. As it would turn out, you were a surprise. Yuji, the fat little conquerer he was had completely shielded you from view at every ultrasound, a feat that wasn’t too difficult given he was more than double your size, but it did explain why Yuji seemed to have extra limbs in some of the images.
Kaori felt mildly disappointed with how that mystery had been resolved.“Aichan, sonogo no Kaoru-chan wa dō suru no?”Naming the spare after this body was tempting. It wouldn’t truly be after them, not even in spirit considering that poor Jin only knew her as his wife and not as the genius he truly was. Any name in her honor was a name for a ghost. A ghost.“Yūrei to iu namae no kata ga yoi to omoimasu.”
The sorcerer watched as Jin kissed the head of their daughter, an infant that would have been better never born. Yuji had a purpose and while Kenjaku saw himself as above superstition, there was a reason why twins were often seen as ill omens in their world.Itadori Yurei would eventually die for the sake of Kenjaku’s binding vow. There could only be one vessel for the King of Curses, and that vessel couldn’t be hampered by shared cursed energy, not if Ryomen Sukuna were to be completely free. And yet, there was an opportunity here.Perhaps it was a rush of hormones or exhaustion from giving birth but, as Kenjaku examined his creations, a sense of intrigue began to undermine logic.He remembered the cursed energy that coiled beneath his skin, the bloodlust that had leaked from an occupied womb.
Sukuna had once had a twin. Perhaps there was something to that connection that helped him gain so much power so quickly.Perhaps it might be useful to have a spare vessel. A spare body. A spare child.

Oh, Itadori Yurei, welcome to the world.

You are truly, deeply, irrevocably fucked.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The blessed thing about sleep is that it almost functions like a time skip through life. Stuck in an infant’s body, you want nothing more than to skip through the next twenty or so years and get to the good, moderately stable, non-world-ending part of life.
As it stands, you could settle with jumping to an age with motor functions.
Where’s that technique? Huh?
And then something happens, and you are incredibly pleased to be an overly aware child.“Yurei? A wandering specter? A ghost? That’s what you name my granddaughter for?” Language, as it turns out, does come quickly to the desperate and the immersed. While reading is beyond you completely, at six months - and you know it’s six months exactly because Jin took your footprint this morning and pink paint is still stuck between your toes – you can finally understand what is being said around you. Much to the relief of your bored tiny child brain. You are soaking in the gossip like a goddamn sponge. So what better time for dear old grandpapi to come visit?“Yurei is better fitting.” You feel more than hear the gasp Wasuke lets out at Kaori’s words, “Yuji and Yurei, match well enough, doesn’t it?”
Oh yes, you see them sitting there. All smug and demure as they flutter their lashes and tilt their chin to Yuji, freshly fed and absolutely dead to the world.If it wasn’t for the mindboggling amounts of happiness that radiated from him, you might pity him for missing out on this scene. Because it is going to be a scene.
You sniff, and yes, that is the scent of milk, dirt, and drama .“It’s too morbid for a little girl.” He adjusts his hold on you, hand cradling your neck as you sit on the crook of his forearm. You’re being held like a football and it is the best dang thing that’s happened this week. You love Jin, you do, much more than you should given the inevitability of his death, but the man cuddles you like you’re a glass doll and Kaori has an obsession with holding Yuji like he’s a Grammy Award. Today you are a football and you love it .Also, help that this puts you at a prime glaring angle. Not that Mommy Dearest can tell since you are being ignored.“Names have meaning, they’re what you want your child to be. Why do you think we chose the name Jin ? Benevolence . And Yuji has some of that kanji in his name too. Abundant Benevolence for Humanity – roughly speaking.”You watched in fascination as one of Kaori’s eyes twitched. Was that involuntary, or did the brain purposely pull that move to convey annoyance?Your musing was cut short as you once again found your position moved, this time dangling by your armpits in front of the sparkling dark eyes of Wasuke. “We’ll call you Mio , little cherry blossom. That’s a better name.”“Yurei is a-”“It even calls back to you in a way, since Kaori means perfume. Flowers and smells match well enough don’t they? ”You were 90% sure that, in that exact moment, had Jin not been in the other room and Wasuke not the only other person capable of caring for Yuji upon Kenjaku’s abandonment, the old man would be very very dead.This was your new role model in this life. You had chosen.Before Kaori could think of a caregiver replacement that was not Wasuke , Jin thankfully arrived bearing offerings for the two squabbling warriors.Setting down a tray of freshly brewed tea, the man pushed up his glasses and sat between two hoarding dragons without the faintest clue.The millennia-old sorcerer crooned, dead silver eyes fixating on you like an insect ready to be pinned. “Your Father thinks I should have named your daughter Mio .”The returning smile was as oblivious as it was blinding. “That could be a good nickname!”You sneezed as something rotten filled your nose.Yuji began to stir with a whine.Sadly, your time as a football came to an end. Both you and a grimacing Yuji were placed down on the floor for your daily Tummy Time , as Jin called it. According to Kaori, it was vital for your development.Faintly, you couldn’t help but wish your wimp noodle of a newborn body could make matricide a possibility. Kaori was not subtle about their preferences. As it stood, you may just be fighting for your life outside the womb as well, or at the very least to be noticed .What an odd inversion of your father’s previous life.… Yuuji wouldn’t try to eat you, would he?Yes. Yes, he would.The fat little monster you called a brother was a hallowed saint. Something Kenny didn’t quite seem to understand. Every time Yuuji’s toothless maw would clasp on to you– something more and more common now that you were gaining mobility –
they’d be there in the background, fawning and muttering about that ‘killer spirit’ he was embodying.
You’d like to show clam chowder killer spirit, alright.
As it was, out of the entirety of this family tree, you might actually get off rather than easily. Being identified as the spare to Yuuji’s heir status, the Ken-undrum of your life was more interested in sitting back and ensuring the perfect vessel survived infancy with you as little more than enrichment.You could live with that. You were ‘kenough .’ Barely being classified as an afterthought to a psycho was significantly better than being a source of interest. Besides, Jin Itadori was a man with a soft bleeding heart, something Yuuji definitely inherited from him, and you were all too ready to soak in every ounce of that warmth.And Wasuke wasn’t half-bad as an advocate either.“I suppose you’ll want to take Mio in a second then?”
Wasuke, no!
Kaori peered over the rim of her teacup, taking her time swallowing before deigning to answer. You could practically see the hair flip.“And why would I need to take her? Yurei is very content where she is.”As if on cue, all the adults look at you and you try to look like you’re looking anywhere else. Oh my, what a fascinating blob there in the corner. Is that a dust bunny? “To feed her. I know you were feeding Yuji when I first arrived, and I wouldn’t want to interrupt your schedule.”“Jin already feed her.”“He did?”“Yes. I don’t breastfeed Yurei.”
Wasn’t that the blessed truth.
“I can’t produce enough milk for both children, Jin is so understanding. So Yurei is only on a formula diet. It helps, and, besides, I’m already planning to start weaning Yuji off in the next year or so. Hardly makes sense to start her on it now.”“But couldn’t you split it between them? They don’t have to be entirely one or the other, but Mio was so underweight when she was born. Wouldn’t it be better if-”“I’m sorry,” she ducks her head, hand clenching Jin’s thigh, “but I’m not very comfortable with continuing this conversation. It’s so embarrassing- like I’m a failure as a mother if I can’t give both like I want to.”
Ara Ara, the gaslighting goes hard on this one.
It doesn’t take too many brain cells to understand why Kenjaku has a particular interest in Yuji’s milestones or early developmental care. Can’t have the vessel’s growth stunted by neglect after all. Even if the obsessed behavior blurs with the enthusiasm harbored by most first-time parents, it’s the obvious favoritism that draws up red flags. And Wasuke is falling for it about as well as a kite in a hurricane.Not like you care about this particular issue; Yuji can keep those rotten titties all to himself. If Kenjaku were to try it out on you, you’d probably spontaneously grow your teeth just to make your bite hurt more.As if summoned by your thoughts, Yuji appears at your side and bites your ear. You ignore the feminine coos over Yuji’s gurgles any day.He always knows how to make you feel better.When it comes to the basics of childcare, you don’t know what the usual scheme is. The last time you went through this you weren’t exactly taking notes, and, though you know there was a Before for you, you don’t really remember anything of substance.Is it strange? Should you be more worried about that? Your memories are definitely selective.It's a mercy, to have almost everything washed away. You don’t remember anything, you just know things. You know you had been alive, that you’d had a family, and that you’d been a student somewhere. The specifics escape you, but you know it. You remember a voice drowning on and on as you’re hands cramp against a keyboard. You remember walking down brick paths in the early morning, a steaming drink in hand as the sun blinds your eyes. You remember hugs that felt like they’d break your ribs. Late nights laughing at a movie, you remember debating ornament arrangements on a Christmas tree and agonizing over gifts for a birthday.You don’t remember them . The people that would have made up those moments, but you feel their absence. Family and friends missing, a gaping, bleeding hole where they once supported the caverns of your heart.Yuji is in there now. He’d been there before, but now he was fleshed out as an actual person .It's not a replacement. It helps. It's not filling anything.That burning returns, something acrid moving up from your gut and settling in your chest. It’s hot. It’s painful. It feels good . Burning, burning, burning, as if your soul is an ember that your grief fans as much as it cracks.Your throat feels stiff. You're so alone in your crib, separated from the masterpiece and, while usually you can survive it – you are older than you should be and Yuji always feels closer than he is – right now, you just want your brother there with you.He can bite you all he wants.
You don’t want to be alone.
You think there’s something wrong with you. Something imbalanced.You are an adult. You are a baby.You should not be both.
You are.You can feel all these emotions, these complex things that were once as natural as breathing coil and squeeze you like a snake waiting to devour. You can’t process this. Not yourself, not the world around you, not the world to be; not while you a stuck with a baby’s brain and twenty-something mind.You had been twenty. You remember. Tweenty-something.
You remember drinking a beer, faceless people surrounding you as the TV blared in the background and younger children played outside. You remember you felt happy.You’re burning alive.You open your mouth, but smoke chokes you, its hands wrapping around your throat, your cords, and strangling you till the only sound you can make is a near-silent groan.You want to scream.
Fear.

Grief.

Heat.
You feel Yuji perk up. You can almost see him, gold eyes blinking open and head-turning in your direction, back to where you lie forgotten in the nursery. You wonder what Kenjaku would think about the behavior.
Love.

Contentment.

Concern.
You squirm, uncomfortable in your own skin as something expands and tightens. The more you panic the more it seems to grow.
Fear. Grief

Lonely. Fear
Heat. Burning.You want to rip off this flesh suit you call a body, but your hands grab nothing but air as you silently flail. You don’t even have the guts to scratch out your eyes. Pathetic .
Confusion?

Fear?

Panic.
You think you hear crying out in the living room, Yuji’s wails from just beyond the open door, and Kenjaku’s syrupy murmurs staining the air like freshly poured tar.Everything is beyond you. It's just you, and the heat, and the fear .
You don’t notice a voice breaking through Yuji’s cries, let alone hear its words. You don’t notice the floor creak or the steady thumps of footsteps approaching you. You can’t even see who it is that leans down over you, your eyes blurring and vision hazy. “Shhh, little one. It’s okay.” A hand reaches in, callused fingers wiping away your tears. “I’m here, Mio. I’m here.” It's not the corpse mother that hovers over you. Its Jin.Your soul leaps.He picks you up, just as carefully as ever. Hands reverent as you rise, arms enfolding you and holding you close. You sway with his steps as he walks, his heart beating against your ear and your eyes fixated on each other.There’s a faint hint of hint of red in them; a hint of the monster connected to your blood. You reach for them anyway, the burning heat in you quieting, your ember of a heart dimming. The steady beat of your Father and the constant thrum of Yuji lulling you back to a calm.A second face comes into your view. The dull fish eyes stab through your tear-stained ones.You don’t think Kaori has ever looked this focused on you before. Not good .
You cannot give Kenjaku a reason to take notice of you. You’re existence has already screwed you on that point, but you can do damage control.You love Yuji, you do, but his place in the madman’s plans is sealed. You are a new variable. You do not want to know what Kenjaku would do for their own enrichment when given the opportunity.So you take that heat, that burning in your gut, and you stuff it down, down, down deep inside you and lock it away.But Kenny is still looking at you, their back to Yuji who is safely propped up on the couch, and you can feel those eyes dissecting your insides. Trying to figure you out, trying to make you flinch. You are beginning to have your suspicions about what that warmth is .So, you pull the only card you have.“ Dada!” Itadori Jin grins like he’s had his teeth whitened with bleach and capped in diamonds. It's blinding .You’re lifted high in the air, or up to his face - unlike Wasuke, Jin would never dare fling you around like you're a ball - and your father laughs .
Kaori steps back slightly, her head turning back to Yuji as if he’ll start talking too. “T-That’s a full six months early.”
“We have a genius baby!”

Love.

Contentment.

Warmth.
Adults are weird. You can hardly believe you used to be one.Jin immediately tries to get you to say it again, and of course, you oblige. You have no reason not to, definitely not because it looks like your Father’s jaw is about to pop out of his face, and now he’s crying far harder than you were earlier. Not at all.“I need to call ChiChi, he’s not going to believe this! ” unceremoniously, you are passed into the arms of Kaori. You are almost dropped entirely before you squeal and the brain seems to realize gravity will take you if he doesn’t. You stare at each other as Dad fumbles around in the kitchen. Given a few bangs, you’re pretty sure Jin might’ve fallen once or twice.Yuji giggles in the corner.A loud squeal echoes from the doorway, “ Mio! She said ‘Dada’! She said dad!”
Ah, he found the phone.
“I know! She must have Kaori’s smarts! We weren’t even trying yet. All the books say it’s too early for that. No, it wasn’t-”
“Maybe it was just babbling.”Affronted, you look up at the brain - their face scrunched, stitches pulling at half-healed skin – and open your mouth once more.“Awa Awa.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Life settled into an easy rhythm. It was peaceful. Quiet.

It was driving you insane.

This was

JJK

.
Not some sort of cotton candy rain clouds, friendship-is-magic soap opera! Doom was inevitable. It was coming for you all. Gege would take joy from you like stealing candy from a baby.

“

Lolly-op! Lolly-op, Da!”

Indeed beloved bro. Indeed.

You nodded sagely as Yuji reached out, pudgy hands grappling for what must have been a very bright and tempting assortment of candy.

Greed

and

want

were palpable as you stared off into the distance.

You didn’t know what was so tempting about the child-bait your twin now faced. Having gained more weight, you’d finally been deemed big enough to wiggle your way to the back of the carrier rather than being continually observed on the front. Strapped to Jin’s back, free from the constant surveillance of your human vehicle while Yuji basked in the wonders -

and attention

- secure at Dad’s chest. People watching and intermediate napping filled your days. It was suspiciously pleasant.

Oh

, but this nightmare of a universe had to balance the scales somehow, didn’t it? What sadness. Here you were, forgotten again with not even a heartbeat to comfort you.

“Yes, that’s right, YuYu. Do you want one? Do you think Mio would like a lollipop too?”

Damn it Father.

You’d roll your eyes if the man just down the aisle wasn’t pulling at your little eyeballs. Seriously, who went out in public like

that

? It wasn’t a comfortable outfit with that shirt two sizes too small, even if those pants did look like a poofy dream. If the gym-bro was wearing socks with sandals you might actually cry.

A familiar clumsy prodding finally made you look away. Yuji, blocked by Jin’s shoulder, looked at you with the utmost urgency.

Joy.

Questioning.

Happy?

-Mo Want

?-

Your nose crinkled as your mind worked. Lollipops. Large colorful things are somehow too sweet with too little flavor. Messy sticky things kids would go crazy over and drop or forget before they could finish it. A waste of time for any mature sensible adult.

“

Mo want! Mo want!”

Pressing your face into Jin’s neck, you hid your smile. How was that child so perceptive even at the age of one? Was it a twin thing?

No. Yuji was just special.

Candy grabbed and handed over to you both, a pretty little red thing, not the rainbow monstrosity that had filtered through your mind. Ideal really for a child and a perfect distraction as Jin carried on with his task. The errand of the day? Grocery shopping.

You rather enjoyed this. A chance out of the house, away from the probing dead eyes of your mother. Better yet, you got a chance to reacquaint yourself with the world and to watch as Yuji discovered these small fragments for himself.

Gnawing on the plastic-covered treat, you wait patiently as Jin darts around the small store to grab a few essentials.
These trips are never too long, or that eventful for that matter, so you are content to stay quiet and observe. Secure and safe, here with your brother and father, strapped in a harness and cooed over by the occasional stranger.

You're almost happy. You would be happy, tucked away from harm, if you were ignorant of how close trouble was to you.

Whining interrupted your thoughts, frustration seeping into your mind like a morning fog.

-Don’t bite so hard. Careful. Wait for Da to help-

A group of women cooed at Yuji’s face, perfectly reminiscent of a glowering raisin. Grumbling, the boy glared at the saliva-covered candy and shook his fist.

“

Da!

Dada help!”

You swear you heard someone swoon in the background. Actually,

no

, that was someone fanning themselves with a cereal box. Pity Jin was so blindly in love with that horrible excuse of a person. Your dad was a catch if there ever was one.

“It’s okay, Yu. I’ll help you in a minute. Just gotta pay for this quick.“

Amusement.

Patience.

Happy.

Yes, life was… good.

Little did you know what was waiting for you.

Itadori Jin was stronger than the average man, even if he didn’t seem to realize it. Usually, after a few hours spent in town, he’d jog back home to his beloved wife with the twins snug against him in their carrier, bags in hand, and a permanent spring in his step. Today was not any different.

Until the grocer's door was opened to reveal rain.

Heavy, cold, endlessly falling rain.

Foot raised, a second away from bounding off, the man froze, still as a statue while his glasses fogged over and YuYu shrieked at the falling droplets. He could make a run for it and would have if not for the cargo he carried. The twins would get wet,

soaked

even under this downpour.

What if it made his babies sick?

Jin could just see it. Red noses and tearful eyes, tiny bodies shaking from coughs and wails. Yuji wouldn’t be able to sleep, he’d scream and beg for relief that Jin would be helpless to give. And

you?

He’s darling Mio? Jin could just see you, quietly suffering, rattling breaths and skin flushed with fever. Your fists clenched and face screwed tight; as if you were trying to wrestle the concept of illness into submission.

It would be all his fault.

Thankfully, before the man could spiral further -

or Kaori forbid, leave the bags behind so you both be sheltered by his running form –

a welcome sight stood tall beneath the afternoon storm. A bus stop.

Huh, he’d never noticed that before.

You, with your vision blocked by the mass of pink hair and sensing only the usual curiosity from Yu, recoiled in shock as a few spare wet droplets transformed into a burst of wind as the world blurred around you. It took only a second for Jin to run to the bus shelter, but it took you more than a minute to get over the whiplash.

Damn it Father.

Oblivious, the elder Itadori carefully set a small mountain of bags on the, thankfully, dry bench and conducted the futile process of wiping condensation from his glasses.

Amusement.

Love.

Content.

“Da!

Da! Andy! Andy!”

Yuji shrieks and waves the red offering like he’s trying to direct a plane to land. Much to the boy’s frustration, Jin only hums reassurances as he reaches back and twists –

glasses crooked on his face, lens already blurring again –

pulling you out of the harness.

He frowns as he looks you over, turning you this way and that. You watch as his expression grows comically darker at the small wet patches on the top of your onessie. The man looks outside, an expression like he wants to go to war with the weather.

You giggle and Yuji keeps chanting about candy.

It’s so domestic and peaceful, though Jin might not realize it, given how he’s inadvertently juggling both you and your brother as Yu is released for his own inspection, and you can’t help but bask in the tranquility.

Faintly, you think you smell booze. It’s odd considering you’ve never seen Grandpa, Jin, or Kaori drink… at least not around you or Yuji; but then you feel it. Something cold prickling at the back of your neck. It sets you on edge so of course you can’t help but turn to look, and there, in the corner of the shelter is a familiar face.

You’ll blame the fact you are a child for your failure to notice the six-foot-tall giant sitting a measly three feet from you on the bench.

He’s looking at you and, for some reason, it’s sending shivers up your spine. The gym-bro, poor fashion choices aside –

thank all that is decent he’s wearing sneakers–

is lounging on the bench like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Ankles crossed, one hand toying with a cigarette and the other dangling behind the seat into the great unknown of tiny hidden spaces.

But his eyes are looking at you and they look… tired.

His face is bothering you; you’ve

seen

it somewhere, and now that you're in close proximity you

know

it’s not just from seeing a sad man in the cereal aisle.

Where have you seen him?

You can hope that it’s from your people watching during errands, but your instincts say otherwise.

“Kids right?” Jin chuckles, Yuji balanced and held on a lifted knee as the other arm cradles you. “I need more hands.”

Father, no.

“You got any kids?”

Father! Does thou know of stranger danger? Cease speaking!

Yuji pauses his assault on the candy, his tiny figure

helping

Dad unwind the shrink-wrapped plastic. A task only successfully completed when he looks up to give you a side-eye.

The not-stranger sighs as if engaging in conversation is the most taxing thing that has been asked of him in the entirety of his existence – which you know

fair –

but he proceeds to take pity on the smiling pink-haired man anyway.

“I do. A son.”

You stare. The man looks away, as if the confession is shameful, even as Jin smiles and keeps talking. Your old man would probably ask for pictures if his hands and attention weren’t filled. There’s an odd crinkling to the man’s face, a part of his skin pulled taunt as his lips are pressed into a grimace.

Odd.

It’s almost a physical pain at this point. You’ve

seen

this man before, and it wasn’t from people watching which means…

He looks back at the three of you, eyes aloof as his hand pulls back uneven wet black hair,

that smirk

clear as day, the scar on his mouth obvious now.

… You are mildly ashamed it took you this long to identify

Toji fucking Fushiguro

the damn

Sorcerer Killer!

Or… to be Sorcerer Killer? While he radiates deadbeat energy, his face doesn’t

quite

display the same murder mercenary level of apathy you know him for. Is his wife dead yet? Recently dead?

Has he already begun his descent, or is he on the precipice of that loss?

You… actually feel a little guilty. You never made it to season two of the anime, but you saw enough clips to know that Toji was a badass. His story was compelling, a tragedy of his own making, and you couldn’t help rooting for him even as he made some… horrible decisions. Abandoning and selling Megumi, killing Riko, probably some other shit that you were forgetting. It was… a lot.

He was a character who’d been pushed too far and took it out on the world. You can’t help but wonder if the gambling addiction that helped fuel that cycle was part of an attempt to regain some control in a world that had never bothered to be stable.

In short, you don’t know what to do about this development. If you should work cute baby magic and offer a hug which would revitalize this asshole’s interest in his own kid, and thus provide a stable home that would benefit

both

of them. Or if you should scream your head off and get your dad to

stop talking to this man, only bad things can follow.

Of course, Toji just needs to open his mouth and your pointless moral dilemma is immediately thrown out.

“I don’t think it’s appropriate to give a one-year-old a lollipop… isn’t that a choking hazard? Something my wife used to say.”

Really? Was it now?

You blink slowly at the revelation, looking down at the sugary treat with new eyes.

Looking at the gym-bro Toji, now reminiscent of a drowned cat you decide, there’s a split second where it comes for you to make a decision before the messy pointless thing you’ve been given is taken away by your well-meaning parent.

Yes,

you accept,

this man is an asshole

.

Some of your teeth had already come in. Tiny pointed little things that were crooked and unevenly spaced. You grin like a shark in human skin and offer only a glare before you shove the candy, plastic, and all into your mouth and bite down with a solid

crack.

You have no idea that Yuji is currently attempting to do the same thing.

Cherry, artificial and sweet fills your mouth. Sure, the few teeth you have are protesting this life choice, Jin is currently freaking out, and the stranger is staring at you like he’s just seen a demon, but you let out a pleased hum regardless.

Really, being a mini terror might be your calling in this life.

“MIO! YU! NO!”

You’re shoved into the arms of Toji as Jin frantically tries to pry open Yuji’s mouth, the kid practically growling as he puffs up his cheeks; determined to keep the treat at all costs.

Ah, I’ve made a mistake.

You smile apologetically, red drool dribbling down your chin.

Toji, perhaps through whatever fading remnants of fatherhood still exist in his heart, narrows his eyes at you in a look you're

sure

you’ve seen in a fight edit somewhere.

Oh, no.

You move to squirm away, your coordination

still

unacceptable and impractical for anything of use, and Toji catches you immediately. Before you can comprehend the cries of a disappointed Yu -

and is that Dad pulverizing the lollipop? –

two fingers are already pressed against your jaw. You can feel Toji pushing against the seam of your teeth through your cheeks.

Indignation.

Anger.

Resignation.

Of all the humiliations. This was

your

candy. Developmental appropriateness disregarded, you knew how to safely consume a lollipop! Yuji might not, but that was very much irrelevant! Yet, here you were; being manhandled by an assassin who was

clearly

taking this business too seriously…

Actually, Toji looked about ready to turn you on his arm and slap your back in a few seconds. His fingers tighten their grip, and a good bit of pink spit has already built up on the inside of your cheek.

Dad is

right there

, and, occupied as he is with Yuji’s frustrated crying, and you know he’s watching this interaction and

will

step in if Toji causes any real harm.

But this is slightly terrifying.

A pity you eat terror for breakfast… and every other hour you suffer in the clam’s presence. Still, this might be… a

little

childish. You know better. You used to be an adult, at the very least you can

act

like one.

You feel the fingers relax, Toji reading the surrender in your eyes. And you

do

surrender. You give the man exactly what he

didn’t

ask for.

You open your mouth and let the red mush fall into the man’s lap.

Let it never be said you don’t know how to pick your battles.

After a series of apologies, and napkins that emerge from the depths of Jin’s pockets, the incident is waved off.

“I’ve had worse stuff spilled on me.”

Yeah.

That’s the problem-

“But I mean it; thank you so much for your help!”

“Don’t mention it.”

“My wife would have had my head if something happened, she’s so much better at this than me. Kaori has all the milestones memorized and she’s always getting new parenting books. I think she could probably pass for a pediatrician if she wanted to.”

“Impressive,” he says, but the eye-roll clearly conveys

shut up

.

“She is! My Kaori is such a good mother, she keeps notes on the twins, did you know? Writing down how their eating, behavior changes, and injuries. Just in case anything happens.”

The eye-roll has morphed into a side-eye. Father, the criminal thinks we’re weird.

Yuji nods frantically next to you, grabbing your shoulder as you both watch the one-sided conversation ping-pong back and forth. The rain is still falling and the bus, unfortunately, has not shown up yet. The shopping bags have been precariously piled on the bench- i

t looks like it’s going to fall any minute and get wet regardless of Jin’s efforts

- leaving you and Yuji cuddled close on your father’s lap, who himself is perched lightly on the remaining available space.

Which just so happens to be right next to Toji.

Okay. You pity the man.

Happy now?

“The kids are going to be just as brilliant as her. Yuji is always so alert, you can just see him taking in the world like a sponge! And Mio started talking at six months! Only a few words, but she knew what they meant! She’s reserved but I can see her brain working hard.” He smiles down at you both,

pride

and

love

pouring out of every pore. Even Toji softens in the face of it.

“And look at them! They're adorable!”

The mercenary snorts, shaking his head and his words are barely audible over the rain. “Aimi likes to dress Megumi up as a bear.”

The man freezes, shoulders stiffening as he looks away, back out to the storm as if all life’s answers are hidden just beyond sight.

“Maybe our kids can get together sometime.”

“I’m just passing through. Picking up odd jobs.”

And he is, as much as his wife would hate it. Wandering around Japan instead of staying home with their son. Going back to old skills and habits to take care of hospital bills that just never seem to end.

But it would be worth it, staining his hands again if it meant Aimi could come home.

He wouldn’t know what he would do without her. He couldn’t take care of Megumi by himself. He couldn’t even take care of him now.

Toji Fusiguro wasn’t meant to be a father. Not like the cheerful man next to him.

The truth is, the Yuji Itadori of the future was more like the Jin Itadori of today than either would ever know. And while Jin may not have the calculating mindset of his kenorps of a spouse, he still has that bleeding Itadoi heart and eyes that can see a bit too deep than it seems.

If there’s anything you want to inherit in this whole mess, it’s compassion like that.

“You know, things are pretty good for me, choking hazards aside.” He smiles, but it’s not as bright, as

blinding

as his others. “But it didn’t start that way. Back when me and Kaori first got married, she got in an accident one day. Hurt her head

really

badly, doctors didn’t expect her to survive.”

Your hands grab his arm and you squeeze. You don’t want to hear this, you don’t think

Toji

is in the mood to listen to this, brooding as he is in the corner.

Please stop. Please stop talking.

“It was touch and go. They told me she’d die that night, then that she’d never wake up from her coma, then that, if she

did

, she’d never be the same again. That the hemorrhaging caused permanent damage. That she’d never talk again, that she would have motor issues, that she could have seizures for the rest of her life.”

Your eyes squeeze shut, you feel Yuji leaning against you, concerned for your mood and not understanding it.

You don’t understand it

,

you don’t understand any of this.

But you know Toji is listening now, even if he is turned away and you’re not looking. You still see it. You feel it.

“We got lucky. One specialist promised me he could bring her back and he did. I never got a chance to thank him in person, but he saved my wife’s life.”

Fuck Kenjaku

.

A thousand times over.

“And now I’m here, with these two blessings and my beloved Kaori waiting for me back home.

I don’t know what you're going through, I might be misreading you completely, but… life can get better. Sometimes in the way we want, others in a way we don’t see coming. And whatever’s haunting you doesn’t have to be the end. It can get better.”

Jin is so earnest, so

good

. He says things because he means it. He’s speaking because he thinks it’ll

help.

Toji doesn’t seem to know what to do with the sudden splurge of information, he’s shifting, uncomfortable, and Jin reacts instantly.

“And, hey, good luck on the job hunt!” he chirps, easy and upbeat as if he hadn’t just shared his own grief and joy, “If you have trouble finding something then I know

Sakura and Higanbana

have an opening. It would mostly be unloading shipments and other physical labor; all the flower selling and arrangements would be done by the boss!”

Fushiguro relaxes, his hand on his knees, and he looks at your father like he’s some alien lifeform. “I don’t think I’m cut out for that type of work.”

“Well, if you ever change your mind, just tell him Jin sent you. He seems gruff, but Wasuke is a big softy at heart.”

Toji Fushiguro has yet to fall back into his old ways. His wife is not yet dead, his child not yet sold, and his title as the

Sorcerer Killer

has not yet been earned. The man seated next to him is not a Zenin, not a sorcerer, not a curse user. He is so far removed from that world, from the brutality and cruelty that Toji knows better than his own name, that he might as well be a different species of person.

Toji Fushiguro has been seen once before in his life. Once a little brat with eyes that don’t belong to a mortal, too blue, too cold, too high and mighty for a child. Eyes that reflected the looks of so many who saw him as less the bugs they stepped on.

This man, and his children, look at him with eyes that see just as deeply. Reddish brown eyes warm with empathy, and too golden gazes split between curiosity and a burning focus.

None of it is cold. None of it is superior. All of it is far too

knowing

.

Toji can be seen. He was seen by his wife once and seen by the Gojo heir later, but he’s never been

known

, never had something peer into his soul.

He can feel it, something peeling back his layers and revealing the only truly vulnerable thing about him. Not even something the famed Six Eyes would be capable of. These are civilians. They have no part in his world.

They should have no part with him.

The rain is still falling when he stands. His pants sporting a new red stain that will not dry brown like so many others, and he prepares to leave. His cigarette has fallen to the floor, forgotten in the accident with the kids, and he steps on it, rubbing it into the concrete as –

Jin?

- watches.

He nods his head, if he’s being rude he doesn’t particularly care, but when he wishes the man well he’s surprised to find he means it. Toji steps out into the storm, something pushing him to glance back one last time.

The man is focused on his children, his son snuggling into his side, asking how long they have to stay as Jin promises ice cream when they get home. The girl is looking at him.

She’s a mirror image of the boy, of her father except for those gold eyes that burn.

It's an oddly familiar position he finds himself in, caught by a child, and you don’t connect it, how you're inadvertently mimicking an old wound. It’s good you don’t because then you wouldn’t act like yourself. You are not Satoru Gojo, the spoiled heir and chaotic powerhouse.

You are Yurei Itadori, a girl who should not exist, was not wanted by your creator, and who knows both too much and too little. In that you know Toji Fushiguro far more than your brother or father could hope to.

You watch the man leave, preferring the downpour over the odd little family sitting at the bench, and a part of you wishes you were older, that you were braver, that you were bolder. Perhaps you could change something. Perhaps you could change everything.

You lean back into your father’s hold. Feeling the constant thrum of Yuji and listening to the steady beat of Jin’s heart. You let yourself be soothed by their warmth, your eyes already drooping.

What could you have done that would have changed anything? You are

one

. A

baby

. Your words have no weight beyond your capability of producing them. Your life is not notable when you are just another face in the masses. You have no connections, no skills, no power. You can’t do anything. You can’t

change

anything. You have no control over what these people choose to do or how they live their lives. You are a pawn on the same board as them. Just a pawn.

So why do you turn your head into your dad’s chest? Why do you reach out to grab Yu’s wrist and seek reassurance?

Why do you refuse to watch that man disappear from your sight?

Toji Fushiguro will die. The Star Plasma Vessel Arc will go on as intended, as directed by that one-eyed cat who built this world. Just one event in the cascade of sequences that result in the future you know. None of you are an exception to the cruelties of this world. Especially not the man who holds you now.

You wished Kenjaku would get it over with already. You wished you didn’t care.

You wished you were strong enough to stop it.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

You are three years old and you don’t know if you’ll ever have a healthy relationship with anxiety.You and Yuji were already three. While you don’t know how long Ken had been present before your gestation, three years by themselves felt fairly excessive for an experiment where the most hands-on part was… incubation. Yeah, for the sake of your meager sanity and Yuji’s innocence, you were leaving it at that. Kenny’s stitches had already completely scarred over, which had to make the body transfer thing harder - so why stay?What was Kenjaku waiting for?Well, it wasn’t like you could waddle up and ask them.
Most days, Kaori leaves you and Yuji trapped in a playpen with toys while they sit somewhere nearby, usually reading or writing something in a little black book.You very much hope it’s not this universe's version of the Death Note.A part of yourself had honestly expected Kenjaku to plop you both in front of the TV and let your brains go numb from some kid show, but, mercifully, they didn’t. If anything, they’ve been remarkably “anti-technology” when it comes to the two of you. All of your toys are old-fashioned things from the days before batteries, speakers, and machinery were inserted into everything. You have colorful balls, you have blocks, you have wooden dolls.
Ken-crunchy is apparently very concerned about your brain development.
Why? I doubt Yuji’s intelligence means much when he’s supposed to be a meat suit.
Maybe it was because you remembered a much more stimulating childhood, your brain already rotted and addicted to the instant gratification and overstimulation from modern-day entertainment that drove your actions. Maybe it was just you and there was nothing to blame but sheer boredom. After all, you were anxious, incapable of sleeping your days away, and now freedom lay at your fingertips. Or a few steps away from your unsteady feet. Semantics.You loved Yuji, he was a constant that you’d grown attached to, reliant even. Especially to keep that burning in your gut down and smothered, but spending day after day after day trapped with only him and a few artifacts from a bygone era of childhoods was proving torturous.And so began your side quest of research. Kenbert, the stay-at-home mom, was apparently not exempt from the pleasures of proper mental stimulation. Given that they were all brain - one that had dubbed themselves a scientist however loose the definition- maybe that was the one pleasure they truly enjoyed. Regardless, Jin had lovingly supplied a library for his wife. One that was brimming with books from the few times you’d been taken in there. You needed it . You were salivating over it. More than a few times a week Dad would bring you both in for a story before bed, one usually cut short either to Yu’s fussing or because you’d fallen asleep after dissociating. You could only handle a few rereads, and Hello Moon was only good for the artwork and not the plot!You would never be left in there by yourself, not when you could pull down a shelf and get crushed by the weight of knowledge or when there ran a risk you might damage a valuable tome . So that left only one option.
Sneaking in.
Kendora had to be growing bored of you, he had to be given how you both were left alone unsupervised for hours at a time. Maybe they were secretly running experiments in the nonexistent basement. Figuring out how to release more calamities upon the world. It seemed likely.The playpen that contained you was your standard model; an off-white plastic, with thick bars mimicking a jail for the walls, and a single entrance. Of course, it was tall enough that your hands could barely reach the other side on your tippy toes while Jin and Kaori could step over the barrier as much as they pleased, but that was irrelevant. What was relevant was the locking mechanism on the door.A simple latch. High enough that it wasn’t on eye level, and therefore unnoticeable by most children, but still within reach.You bided your time, playing innocent as the Great Ken went about their morning routine, completely non the wiser to the scheme you’d hatched. It was a Wednesday if the kitchen calendar did not deceive you - so helpfully tacked up on the fridge you stared at every morning as you were fed your scrambled eggs - and Wednesdays meant yoga .Or more accurately, Kaori’s online Yoga class they took to ‘keep their figure’ whatever the hell that meant. Again, why? Ehem , that class took about an hour, usually going over by fifteen minutes plus an additional ten that the brain took to meditate. All of it occurred outside in the sunroom. Of course, the door was open in case of any accidents, but that was a footnote and a pathetic attempt to mitigate this glaring weakness.
So you went along with the schedule. You ate breakfast dutifully as you always do - after eating the mush called baby food you’d always be too thankful for actual texture to ever be picky – glaring at Yuji as he performed his daily ritual of flinging the offerings about. Until you realize both of you acting like angels could alert the brain. After that, you throw food and Ken to help further sell it. Finally , the side quest is done, Jin ran off to wherever he worked, and Kaori changed into their workout outfit of the day, the plan could begin. You forced yourself to wait. Biding your time until you heard the digital voices start and could see the Kaori’s shadow reform into the image of whatever pose they started with.
-What you do?-

You looked at Yuji, who was holding the dolls you’d been playing with yesterday, apparently ready to resume the soap opera drama you’d ripped off from Hamlet .-What you doing , not what you do-
He nodded, mouth forming a silent ohhh , as he asked again, this time with the correct grammar. You… didn’t know how to answer. Yes, you standing in the center of the pen, staring at shadows on the wall like a madman was enough to perk some curiosity. Yuji wasn’t stupid . Actually, he was remarkably aware for his age.
Was he born like that, or was it because he was born with you? And how egotistical to debate that question.

-Something bad. Mama will be angry.-

Hopefully, that would be enough to put YuYu off. Despite your adamant… dislike for your mother , and you knew Yuji was aware of it on some level, he had turned out to be quite a little mama’s boy. Probably all that early life bonding.
-Mama will be angry at both us!-

Or maybe you had underestimated the influence Kenjaku had. You were both proud and dismayed at that. While the rules about the library were inherently pointless for you, for Yuji they had some purpose. He wouldn’t know any better and you didn’t want to spend your limited time watching over him when you wouldn’t be able to pull this stunt for another week at the latest.You turned to look at him, ready to put him down gently when those large, golden eyes stared at you, all the love and sadness in the cosmos pushing at you as they please , please , please burst from him like water out of a faucet.
Damn him, he even had the lip quiver.
-You'll be bored-

-I be with you!-

And how could you argue with that? You’d have to be a heartless monster. A robot. Your heart was melting and you could feel the sludge pooling out between your ribs. Life would be so much easier if you just didn’t care.Yuji was already radiating a smug satisfied happiness. You were throwing eggs at him tomorrow morning.
-Quiet. Follow quietly, and no touchy-

Tiny jumps lifted his bare feet off the ground, his fists pumping as he grinned the same smile, minus you’d see on Jin.You turned and made your way to the gate. Kendra was still preoccupied, if you understood the shadow currently they were attempting a tree pose, so you took the opportunity. No going back.You couldn’t help but preen a little as Yuji watched you work, it was simple, balancing on a block so you’d get the right leverage and lifting the square bit of plastic, but he acted as if you’d performed some secret form of magic.As he caught you before you could tumble to the floor, the gate swinging open quicker than you were ready for, you couldn’t help but return the joy back to him.
Surprise.

Happiness.

Excitement.
You made sure the gate was closed behind you, not locked but close enough that a quick and unlikely glance from Kenny would hopefully not invite further scrutiny.You waved your twin forward, the pair of you clinging to the walks, urging each other forward with the odd hand movement, and generally attempting to smoother your giggles.It was… fun, having a partner in crime.The house you called home wasn’t particularly big, so you made it to the library space relatively quickly given your stumpy legs. Yuji, determined to hold up to his promise of not being bored and perhaps on some level of habit, went and grabbed a copy of Goodnight Moon from the small basket that held all the children’s books in your reading corner. You , however, marched over to your quarry. The Big Boy Books … being a kid was ruining you, the cringe would kill you before Shibuya could.You suspected these might be Kaori’s personal collection, you spied a few covers that had to have been romance, trashy and well-loved given the broken spines and shirtless men on the cover, but they were at the very bottom of the shelves, practically on the floor and covered with a thick layer of dust.This had been Kaori’s collection, maybe something the woman had genuinely loved and enjoyed, but Kenjaku, just as he’d done everything, had supplanted and twisted that trait into his own.More books lined the shelves, thick shiny textbooks that ascended into dark brown and black shapes- leather - your mind supplied. The words on some of the spines shine in the morning light just like your own eyes.
Expensive .Above them, sticking out at the very top were rolls, and rolls of what must have been scrolls. Hidden in the shadows, preserved from the light seeping in from the window, you couldn’t separate the mass of paper from one or the other. It was like a gradient, a mass that transitioned from aged yellow to a cream, and the occasional tan from a covering.
Beautiful.

-Close your mouth-

Your teeth clicked as your jaw snapped shut, grunting as you stepped forward.
-Rude-

Happy.

Smug.

Glee.
From what you were able to see, the general system seemed to put the more important works closer to the top, and the less favored or less used on the bottom. Kaori’s romances were forgotten at the base, but a quick investigation revealed that a number of pregnancy books took up the next chunk, later transitioning to ones on infants.
Surprisingly, you didn’t find any toddlers in your eyeline.Thankfully, the shelves stretched across two separate walls, so there was quite a bit to work with. Frustratingly, as you went along, fewer and fewer covers featured pictures or words you’d memorized through storytime.
Honestly, what did you expect?
You wanted to scream. So, so close and you were being held back because you didn’t know some stupid kanji. Ridiculous!You didn’t scream, but that didn’t stop you from stomping your foot like a child.“Mo?”Yuji, nestled in a pile of blankets and pillows in the corner, Goodnight Moon still open on the first page, looked at you like he wanted to run to you. “Mo, Okay?”You sighed. Getting angry wouldn’t help with anything, and you both needed to get back before the Warden noticed your escape attempt.
-We need to clean. Help put away, and sneak back-

Slowly, he nodded, still watching you as if he expected you to start crying, but you both made quick work of putting the blankets back in the corner- even if your folding was rather sloppy-
and made it back just as Kaori walked in.They’d finished early this time.You watched as those dull eyes scanned the room, an obnoxiously cheery voice echoing from outside. You felt your stomach sink as Kaori stepped forward, cautious, head swiveling around and body tense.Your eyes darted to the gate and you felt like you’d be sick. You never locked the gate . Fuck .Just behind you, Yuji’s face paled, his head also darting around, and tears forming in his eyes as he tried to figure out what danger had appeared. He didn’t even know what danger was , but the concept he was feeling was enough to put him in a panic.You watched, still as a statue as Kejaku turned to look at you, eyes flicking down to the gate and you saw the exact moment the curse user realized what you had.You held your breath.A doll cracked under Yuji’s hands.And Kenjaku… smiled .They hummed, closing the latch, they looked at you both, cooing softly before reaching to ruffle Yuji’s hair. They looked at you, dull eyes probing as you stood there, stiff and cold but for the acrid turning in your gut.You saw teeth as their mouth opened. Not a smirk, but it felt close enough to one.And then they were gone. Back outside to the cheerful digital voice and normal schedule.You did not see their shadow move. Not until the program finished and they came back inside. Kenjaku broke their routine that day. You had never been so relieved when Jin came home.“Mo, pick! Mo pick!” Yuji screamed, bouncing up and down as Jin laughed and you stayed curled up at his side. As soon as he’d arrived home and you’d been released from the pen, you’d launched yourself at his legs and refused to leave him. The poor man hadn’t even showered yet.You did not care. You left this man and you would die. Kenny would take you in the night and chop you up into little pieces. Or pull out all your nails. Or stuff you in a jar. … wait a second, I have half siblings stuffed in jars .You felt a warm hand pat your back, “You want to pick a story, Mio?”You shake your head, falling back into the comfort and warmth of your Dad as Yuji peers down at you.“I don’t think she wants to pick something tonight, why don’t you-”“I think she should pick something” Evil itself appeared in the doorway, eyes glinting in the dark, “You coddle her too much. She barely talks because you or Yuji do it for her.” Kenjaku smiled, peering into the room.
Why were they here? They never come here for story time? Why?
“Go on, Yurei. Pick something to read.”You look at the basket, more mindless, pointless excuses for literature stacked inside and you can’t help but inwardly recoil.“Mo pick what Mo want.” Yuji leans close to you, his breath fanning your face and a lopsided smile, so earnest and genuine, that it makes a bit of tension loosen in you.
He’s right. This is an opportunity. It’s torture via boredom or torture via the unknown that is Kenny and you need to pick one. You're not picking the devil you know, you wouldn’t dare to presume to know a lick of what those neurons are firing.
Slowly, you peel yourself away from Jin, missing his warmth and heartbeat almost immediately, but you soldier on. You will be brave. You have to be in this world.You move to the shelves, and you can hear Jin start to correct you, to direct you back to the age-appropriate content, only to be shushed by Kaori.You do not feel reassured as you are waved forward. That smile is a crime against nature.You stand in front of the shelves. Romance isn't a viable option, you do not think even Jin would humor you if you brought that content- Kenny you don’t know but Jin would definitely shut it down if those books are even half as steamy as some of the content you read Before. Pregnancy books also don’t interest you. They have diagrams, the content would be overly specific, and it would be easy for Jin to simplify the text.You can’t help but whine, feeling all this attention on you. You bite on your knuckles, eyes darting as your mind works overtime, trying to find the best option because you will not be doing this again.And then you see it.It’s a small textbook, tall and skinny, with a shiny black cover. You remember the cover, it had an old drawing on it; an elegant old depiction of a group of men sitting at a long table and plucking at instruments.
This could be promising.
You grab it. You don’t stumble under the weight, if you were a normal child and not an Itadori you probably would. But you bring it back only to find something has changed while you had been deliberating.It’s Kaori sitting on the floor with Yuji tucked against them. Jin has left.
Oh, fuck.
“Come, Yurei. Come here.” A flawless hand reaches out, wingers wiggling like worms on a hook and Kaori tilts her head like a bird as you hesitate. “Daddy’s cleaning himself up, Yurei. He’ll be back soon. Why don’t I read to you both tonight? Wouldn’t that be special?”Kenjaku had never hurt you. Ignored you? Neglected you? Inadvertently nearly killed you from ennui? Yes. But they’d never hurt you.Yet.Steeling yourself, you marched forward, handing out the book and seating yourself at their side. Close enough to see the pages, far enough to feel somewhat comfortable. The door was right there , escape was right there .Kenjaku couldn’t afford to damage Yuji. They could damage you all they want.
Confusion.

Comfort.

Happy.
You let yourself pulse the response back to Yuji. It was hollow compared to responses that originated from you, but he seemed to get the message. Snuggling back into Kaori’s side, eyeing you but saying nothing.Kaori, as it turned out, was not so equipped at reading body language.The squeal was instinctive, similar enough to a scream in horror movies, scenes when a character is grabbed by some alien monster- impaled, strangled, or pulled by their ankles- and dragged into a dark unknown where no one can follow, and only fluids and horrible ripping and screaming echo forth. It was that type of sound, and yet, Kenjaku shushed you as if you were giggling too loud in a solemn space. You are dropped into their lap, the book, open and ready, blocking your escape as the brain maneuvers their body to surround you. To hunch over you, like a bird over its chick.Or a cobra ready to strike.And Kenjaku reads to you. He does not skip words or simplify the meanings. It is dry and heavy, speculations of ancient eras, locations of artifacts, and referrals to other volumes and pages; but he works every word, a finger gliding across the page, slowly marking each symbol as its meaning is spoken.This becomes the new ritual, the new routine. Every night like clockwork, you are in Kenjaku’s lap, Yuji dozing off at his side, and the same book is read, always starting from the beginning.It takes three nights for you to stop panicking. It takes another two for you to follow along.
By next Wednesday, you think you might be able to read it for yourself.It’s the same routine, the same schedule. Breakfast, Jin leaves, Kaori stuffs both of you into the pen and moves outside to do her yoga.The pen is different. There’s a new door.It’s thicker, the lock actually requires effort, and you can already see it’s going to take some time to conquer this ugly thing. You also see the baby monitor, balanced precariously and stabilized by a single clip on one of the bars.That should be your warning.
You’ve grown too familiar with fear. Too narrow-sighted for what you want. You are a child, prone to childish tendencies. You pause and you think.There’s a blind spot to the camera, and you angle yourself within it. There’s a block at your foot, the same one you used to stand on last time, and it seems like fate. A cube is not aerodynamic, and you wouldn’t rate yourself as particularly skilled, but you are strong.
You throw the toy and it hits the camera.It’s still connected to the pen, that clip holding on for dear life, and it’s not broken- you don’t think so at least. But it has fallen slightly, the camera crooked and turned to the corner away from the gate and hallway you need to go down.It looks like it fell by itself. A faulty piece of hardware, and you, and oblivious to its failure.You wait, listening and watching. Kenjaku’s shadow pauses, straightening, and for a moment you think they’ve noticed. That they are coming back in to fix what you’ve ruined.The shadow shifts; one of the warrior forms.You let out a breath.
-Mo, explore?-

You look back at Yuji, who ignored your shenanigans so far. You lift a finger to your lips and nod.
-You want to come?-

The boy looks down at his hands, the latest acquisition to your non-screen hoard. Jin smuggled in a toy fire-truck, something that only managed to stay after the batteries came out, and a good amount of pleading from both boys. It was the only hunk of plastic in your collection, and Yuji had started carrying it around with him everywhere .Apparently, the fascination was also a temporary replacement for you.
-It's fine. Play. I’ll be back-

He nods, head whipping up and down, a finger pressed to his own lips. It’s cute, and you can’t help but smile.
Love.

Happiness.

Nervous.
The gate is more complex this time. There’s a legitimate locking mechanism on the door. Some kind of bolt powered by a spring. You have to push down on a button to disengage it, but simultaneously lift the gate so it can open. You’ve seen it before. It’s going to be quite the test of your dexterity and strength.It takes you five minutes.Your journey to the library is considerably less fun even if it is quicker. But you're on a mission so you don’t mind it. You are going to read today.You grab the book, pulling it down to the floor, and then you grab another. It looks similar enough, and you recognize some matching symbols on the cover; Volume, Era, Japanese, and Histories. It's promising. You open both at the beginning and are pleased to realize that, yes, you have memorized Kenny’s torture book successfully.Now for the fun part.You pull them both close and start examining the writing. Some of it is completely foreign, but others match and you cross reference what you recognize and use context to fill in the gaps. It’s a lot, your brain already feels tired and you're only on page two, but you feel so proud . You are reading . You are actually understanding what these symbols mean.A shadow falls over the pages. You look up and dull eyes look down.Kenjaku’s smiling, head tilting as he looks you over. “Now, what are you doing, little one?”It suddenly dawns on you where you’ve seen that movement before. It was something you’d see crows do when confounded with an interesting puzzle.
A toddler should not be reading textbooks. A toddler should not be trying to read textbooks.If you were an adult, you might stammer and lie. Avoid eye contact and attempt to justify your presence as shame would bloom hot on your face.But you’re not an adult right now, and you have no shame.You look up at Kaori and you smile right back.
“Mama! Mama! I can read too!”
And, oh how it kills you , to smile like an idiot and slap those pages with your hands but you do it anyway. Kenjaku cannot prove anything. Nothing that you do not prove for him. All that you need to do is lean into the baby act and let common sense and logic dispel whatever suspicions, if there even are any, may be lurking in those grey cells.Kaori just smiles as they nod and pick you up. Arms squeezing tight as if you are water that might leak out of their grasp, that monstrous rumblings you heard in the womb echoing from the chest you're pressed against.Kaori never mentions the gate, the monitor, or the books. You do not try to sneak out again.The new routine stays, Kenjaku reading a new book every night. Some are scientific manuals, other’s historical papers, and a few poems that make your head spin.If Jin thinks this is odd he doesn’t say anything. He looks, almost relieved, every night when he walks in to find Kaori already settled, voice droning on with Yuji half-asleep and you held hostage.
Why is he doing this? Why can’t you leave me alone?
The routine stays. You fear this will last until Jin dies. You wonder if it was like this before. You don’t know what Kenjaku is waiting for, but as that cold hand strokes your head, fingers winding through your hair, you can only wait.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

You are beginning to fear for your development. On the one hand, it's not like this is your first time ‘round the merry-go-round of life, on the other, you are pretty sure these levels of stress would not equate to healthy brain chemistry or appropriate attachment levels in a child.Then again, it's only you that is aware of the subtext in this situation. While Kay and Jin’s minds remain a mystery to you, at least you know Yuji is oblivious to any tension that doesn’t originate from you.Actually, that might not be much better.Regardless, calamity is something you’ve become resigned to. You are literally living with an engineer of such disasters and, ever since that woman has suddenly deemed you interesting enough to play house with every night, you take great pleasure in the sanctity of your afternoons. They are Kenjackass free and that's how you like it. No probing, unblinking fish eyes that watch your every movement. No shadow hovering in the periphery of your vision. No specter suddenly appears at odd hours, just smiling as they stand there thinking .
Like any scientist, the nutjob seemed overly passionate and involved in maintaining the viability of their project. Like any bored material girl, they also spent every minute that was not occupied stalking specimen-children indulging in the luxuries of the modern world.
Yuji and yourself were the workday, the afternoon was “Mommy time. ”
Which, from what you could tell, meant some form of weird self-care. A seaweed wrap. A trip to see the opera. Fish pedicures. You’d even caught them crying over tickets to some blue lagoon in Iceland of all places.Raisin Brain was living the high life; “You only live once, Jin!”
Well, that was a blatant lie for both of them.While being stuck in the pen was extremely boring– even if some interesting textbooks and puzzles had been thrown in with you; you knew a trap when you saw it – it was a… decent price for a bit of peace. It could even be enjoyable when Wasuke dropped by to visit. The drama Gramps could create with his presence alone was awe-inspiring . The little ticks Kaori would do every time her parenting was critiqued proved deeply cathartic, even if unnecessary. It had become your hobby, and only source of entertainment , to help out the Old Man in his crusade against the witch. It wasn’t malicious, the way you’d nod your head- Yu mimicking you- every time Gramps ranted. Nor how you’d make a point to cycle through every curse word Kenny said when she tried to make you say mama in front of him. Not even how you’d fling your food only when Kenjaku was attempting at feedings- who says “Here comes the villagers!” instead of airplanes? - and acted with prim manners befitting royalty with everyone else. If Kenjaku had actually been a first-time mom of twins, you’d suspect more than a few tears would have been shed due to your fun. Tears you would be disappointed to see. You knew your nemesis was better than that.So, no, the pranks and antagonism weren't malicious . If you were honest… it might be borderline affectionate sometimes. A ribbing. A way to fight back and give a little justice to this world. And you really, really enjoyed doing it .Kenjaku was keeping you both alive, that was more than you expected and beyond your standard, so it was given that your relationship would never be the most healthy. This situation was fantasic given the alternatives!Unfortunately, everyone else was not on the same page.Even more unfortunate, Jin was not on the same page.“A girls' day! Some time to bond while I run errands with Yuji.”You blink in utter bewilderment. What. The. Hell. Father. You blamed Wasuke for this. The man had been more vocal about your treatment recently, which was sweet, but unwanted… it’s given them all idea s. Proper bonding and healthy parental relationships could shove it. If Ken wanted to be a boy-mom, you’d cheer and support it to canon’s end.Your father was oblivious to your contentment, subtly chasing his wife around in the kitchen as she made her regular chlorophyll smoothie. The corpse bride looks about as enthusiastic as you felt.“Mio is so laid back- it’ll be fun for you both.” See , this is why you need to invest in more tantrums. Now you will forever be known as the easy baby and agreeable child. Hogwash! You’d give Sukuna and Gojo a run for their money if you got the chance!
Curiosity

Confusion
-mad?--Seething, Yu. I’m seething -Thinking for a moment, before nodding and deciding this was simply just one of the many Great Big Things that sometimes came from Mo, Yuji Itadori returned to stacking blocks as the adults talked and his sister kept to her odd meld of good and bad thoughts. Being happy and upset at the same time was beyond him at the moment. His brain hurt trying to make sense of it all.
He smiled as Mo patted the inside of his head.“I don’t know, Jin.” Kaori frowns, eyelashes fluttering demurely a streak of green on her lip, “I wouldn’t want to ruin their routine. That’s very important for children.”You can’t believe it, but you are agreeing with the resident psycho. Yes, please keep the bloody routine . All changes this far have sucked. You desperately wish you could put your two cents in and request to revert to the borderline negligent behavior you’d received as a newborn… sadly that might backfire.“Common, Kor, I know you’re trying , but putting them both to bed- while adorable , isn’t enough.”Seated in the playpen, you had the displeasure of being at just the right angle to catch Kaori’s perfect face twist into something ugly as she turned away from Jin. The green mustache did not help as much as it should have.The rotting stench only got stronger with Kenjaku’s displeasure.“I know you care and are dedicated to the twin’s well-being, but there’s more to childcare than physical welfare.” Pushing up his glasses, your father’s tone turned pleading, “I looked through some of your books and they agree with me; they need quality time with us. Active play, conversations… with our routine.”You would applaud Jin’s tactics, emotional affirmation coupled with the scientist's own research was a heavy-hitting attempt; but something about Kenjaku, the stiff way they were standing as if subject to rigor mortis, the way their face was turned away from all of you- Yuji included - made you hesitate to diverge your attention.“I do spend time with the offspring.”The voice was stiff, and so… unlike the Kaori that had been presented. No cat-like purr, no snappy syllables, no teenage girl level of snobby superiority. It was so flat. So strained .“With Yuji , and even then I think we can work on that. But other than reading textbooks, you don’t spend any time with Mio. I’m worried about her. She doesn’t call for you, haven’t you noticed? She goes to Chichi and me, but she just watches you like you’re a stranger.”You’re already looking away as K looks back to the pen. Walking on wobbly legs over to Yuji and his peaceful block tower. You aren’t hearing any of this, no sir.“She’s not talking either. I know she’s smart, I know you know that too. Yuji’s already so vocal, but Mio doesn’t say anything at all. If anything she gets Yuji to speak for her.”You sit beside your beloved bro, far too aware of how both parent units are looking at you.“Build up high?” you ask, the words jumbled compared to how smoothly they run in your mind, “Too skinny and it falls.”
A vision flashes in your mind, that tall single-block tower collapsing, burning and shattering apart as nondescript figures run and an oversized ape screams from the top of it all before falling to his death.“Like dreams!” the psychopath in hiding says with a smile that could rival the sunshine, “Falls and goes boom! ”You nodd, because what else can you do? Also, since when did Yuji know about King Kong? The block tower is strangely absorbing, but you don’t miss the hushed whispers behind you.“My Father has a point, love. Our kids need their mother. She’s special. She’s ours , Kay.”“I know she is.” there’s silence, heavy and waiting as a cloud of rot blooms and widdens. You can’t help but wrinkle your nose in the face of it.“I’m going out, I need to think and I can hardly take a three-year-old with me today.”Your relief and Yuji’s euphoria mingle and intertwine as the block tower falls. You had hoped that would be the end of it.
But Jin wouldn’t stop.
As it turned out, Yuji’s stubbornness may not have originated from the lunatic who spent 1,000 years making a side project, but actually from the unassuming pink-haired, glasses-wearing lunatic who was married to him. And dad? Dad played dirty. Small suggestions over a few weeks, more books left out, opened to highlighted passages on the importance of secure emotional attachments and maternal bonds. When that failed to work, you found yourself the victim of baby fashion. Inconspicuously dressed up as a mini-me, in animal-themed onesies, in fluffy dresses with ruffles as tulle that made you want to kick your legs and scream because who was the fucker that thought style over comfort was genius for baby clothes? Yuji pated your mind as Jin cooed over you, dressed in a tiara and everything, and envisioned a thousand ways to destroy this pink abomination that clashed with your hair.He’d tied it up in pigtails. Pigtails! With the most vomit-worthy shade of yellow bows, you’d ever had the disgrace to see in both your lives.Kenjaku looked borderline sorry for you.You glared up at Jin. You’d never wish ill upon him, but were you wishing great unpleasantness for an afternoon? Yes. In great detail.
May you always be running late for the train. May you not find good parking on your next outing. May you stub the same toe thrice in a row. May your favorite pillow go flat. May-
“Jin, dear, I know you like to spoil Yurei, but why-” Kenjaku motioned to you, clearly unhappy as you languished in her husband’s arms, “Is she dressed like a rejected Disney princess?”“Oh, I don’t know, I thought it would be cute if you took her out shopping, both my beautiful glam girls.”“How sweet, but I-”“But it will also be nice since Chichi is coming over for tea and she can dress up for him.”That soft, sweet face, your father, Jin Itadori , the man who looked at Toji like he was a wet kitten and offered a job working for a florist, smiles with fangs you didn’t know he had. A shiver goes down your spine and the bloody thing isn’t even aimed at you.
Sukuna’s twin indeed.
“Oh, you hear that, Yurei? A Girl’s Day with Mama! How exciting, ” swiftly you are pulled from the demon-man’s arms, your world still spinning at this new facet of the Sunshine Man.
Ken smooshes her face against yours, “I’m keeping you to myself all day, you little concrete operational enigma ~”
In a blink, Jin’s murder face is gone. As if the soft, serene, patient, and loving look was all his face was capable of being. I have learned something today. Don’t mess with Jin.“You are a quiet one aren’t you?”You blink. Slowly. Like a cat that’s debating on whether or not to grace a human with its attention. You’ve already decided of course, but most of the fun is in the act. You don’t think you are quiet, not really, but you don’t deign to give stitches an answer. Your eyes bore into his and you wait for him to blink. He doesn’t.You smile and stick out your tongue. Ken huffs and goes back to looking through racks of clothes. What can he do to you here? This is one of the few shopping centers in Sendai and, as typical for a Saturday afternoon, it is filled with what must be most of the population. Witnesses, darling mother. Offing half a town would get sorcerers on that changling ass faster than a vengeful curse could form. Background scheming can’t scheme under all that attention.You are uncomfortable, physically and emotionally in this dress, and around this presence, so, maybe you aren’t in a particularly charitable mood. Certainly not one to play happy bouncing baby.You are not Yuji, and you are not inclined to act like him.Kenjaku doesn’t seem to mind. You don’t know if that’s because he doesn’t care about your, admittedly, unbaby-like behavior, or if he just doesn’t care about you. You're not sure how to feel about that.“How about this?”A red jacket is held up against Kaori’s body, you can’t tell but you think it might be leather. You can’t help but wonder why someone hiding would wear something so bright. Then again, no one knows about Kenjaku right now… except maybe Tenegen? Maybe?
Still. Something in you revolts at the idea of Kenjku wearing something so modern… and objectively cool .“No, you’re right. This is completely the wrong skin tone; this body would look anemic in that red. Pity, I do so love that color.”
Oh, thank goodness.
“ Mmm , for the next flesh-suit then.”
Nevermind then.
And then there's a flash of pink. Sweetheart neckline, fake-jewel encrusted belt, and a skirt made of so much bloody tulle you wouldn’t be surprised if the manufacturer just wrapped yards of it around a mannequin because they could. You itch just looking at it. You're itching even harder because you're already wearing it! “How about this? We can be matching! ”You feel decently horrified.“Oh, don’t look at me like that, kiddie. This is what mothers and daughters do . I should enjoy this; it’s a first for me, did you know? I don’t often go for the female look, and I am never going through a pregnancy again.” The evil dress is put away and your tormentor sighs dramatically, the kiddie leash pulled tight as she lifts her hand to her temple. “You're quite an experience. A pity.”You roll your eyes.“So condescending, you must get that from me . ”You stick your tongue out and blow a raspberry. Kenjaku only laughs, poking your forehead.“ Temper, temper. Since I can’t leave you little masterpieces alone, I might as well use this time to pamper myself as I deserve. It’s hard being this level of genius; harder when things like proper documentation and missing persons make life so much harder. A hundred years ago one simply put distance and a smidgen of time between yourself and people. Problem solved! Now everyone is so damn nosey~” Kaori looks down at you expectantly, as if expecting affirmation for the, admittedly interesting, rant. You almost missed the silent ominous version of the sorcerer. Was this what Yuji had to deal with?
- I am so sorry -- Thanks! … why are we sorry? -- Why are you sorry? -- Are you sorry :( -
Ken-Kore must see something in your face because there’s a finger poking your cheek and a manic smile filling your vision.“see! You understand my pain!”You bite your lips to keep from snarling like an animal. Your self-control is melting faster than the polar ice caps, and you are this close to acting your age and making clam-head regret they ever had kids!
“… how would she last in a jar?”
- Yu! I need help! Stat! -Every innate technique influences its user. Whether that was because the technique was part of the user, or because the user integrated themselves with their technique was anyone's guess, but the result remained the same regardless of cause. Cursed energy did things to people.
Some of it was minor, those with abilities that leaned on the more mathematical side of existence were more inclined to those subjects. There was an instinctual aptitude for it; physics, measurement, and estimations made simple in brains built to act on calculations.
For Suguru, it had always been about taste. When he was younger it had been subtle. His preference for simple hearty meals, savory and full of umami flavor, over sugar and other foods tainted by artificial preservatives had been a quirk of personality.And then he’d eaten his first curse, and the world had made sense.Smell and taste were connected of course. It had taken an embarrassingly long time to realize all of the unique perfumes and colognes he’d complimented his peers on were actually their cursed energies. Embarrassing .“Ooo~? What’s got you all red?”Spearmint and ozone tickled his nose, slicing through his thoughts. “Nothing Satoru. It’s just been a while since I’ve last visited.”“Oh, right .” A lanky arm curls on his shoulder, ”You were born in Senadi.” The platinum blonde looks around, sneering, “You miss it?”Suguru hummed, eyes darting around examining the passing alien faces, “Not particularly.”“Huh.” The arm fell off and the spearmint faded, faltered , for a moment.
“ What ?”“Nothing.” hands in his pocket the menace tilted his head, smirking, “I just thought you’d be more sentimental about it. You're always such a righteous softie… it's a bit odd to see you so, apathetic .”“It’s just a place, not a people, Satoru. Life is different for those sensitive to cursed energies and not born in shaman families. It’s harder when you don’t have someone who can understand.”“So, fuck ‘em all?”A slap against the back of his head was the answer. “Geeze,” Gojo rolled his eyes, pushing his glasses back up, “don’t have to be so mean~”“Life is meaner.” Sighing, ignoring the memories and the ache, Getou motioned to the scene around them. All of those clueless people wandering around, the occasional Grade 4 curse darting around, the faint static of cursed energy generated by hundreds of mindless little humans troubled by common mundanity. Life circling on and on, just waiting for suffering to come and slaughter blind little lambs.“Satoru, we have the responsibility of being better,” regardless of what they do, the blind can’t understand, they can’t see, “Of course, the weak will fear what they don’t understand, it's natural. That’s why we need to stand by each other, sorcerer protecting sorcerer, as we work together to save everyone.” In a perfect world, that’s all they would need. “Keep talkin' like that and I might just lose my sweet tooth.”His arm fell to his side slowly, fondness and frustration mixing in equal measure, something only Satoru Gojo was capable of creating, “Excellent.” He laughed, “That’ll be enough to get Shoko to join in on my speeches now.”“ Nooo, don’t you dare! I haven’t even tried half of the desserts on my bucket list. ” Suguru’s smile softened to something more genuine until it faded as a passing woman almost bumped into him.Sendai had gotten bigger since the last time Getou had passed through. How long had it been? Two years? He’d called, but just never had the time to visit. Not that his absence was likely missed.His parents were probably relieved that he was gone. Better to be childless than saddled with a cursed one. “Why are we even here? Why am I here? There are so many better things I could do with my time.”“ Digimon Data Squad is not the best use of your time.”“No, it’s the only use for my time. Until the next game is released. Then that will be the only thing worth my time.”“I’m not on that list?”Satoru waves him off, marching off to a tanghulu vendor, shiny candied fruit displayed and glittering tantalizingly in the afternoon light. “You go without saying.”“There’s been reports of multiple cursed energy signatures around here and they’re only getting stronger. Do you know what that means? ”Satoru turned back to him, already stuffing his mouth with two skewers and in the process of buying a third.“ Eh? Umone, ont doin t’re ‘ob?”
Oh, how he wanted to rip his hair out sometimes.
“ A child, Satoru. There could be an unidentified shaman child that we need to find or a cursed spirit that’s smart enough to hide its signature. Or both.”A grape cracked between his teeth and Gojo couldn’t help but whine as the stick was snatched by his former best friend.“ Pay attention.” “ But this is so boring~ And how exactly am I supposed to find a kid? Look around, Suguru, for a small town there are a lot of kids- what, you think the hypothetical kid is going to run out and introduce- OI! Watch it!” Something hit his leg, and instinctively, Satoru threw infinity up, launching the projectile off him with a thud. Looking down, he expected a sugar high squirrel, or a ball, or maybe a runaway box of Kikufuku- he’d heard that was a specialty around here.What he was not expecting… was a glare of shining gold.
“What the fuck is that?”
“Satoru, that is a child.” No, that was not a child. At least not one Gojo had ever seen before. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but, something big was flagging his Six-Eyes. He just… couldn’t process that information.“You don’t say? How interesting… ” The white-blonde abomination leans over you, those otherworldly blue orbs- and you hated that description, but it was arguably on point for the bugged-out miniature planets that were attempting to pick you apart to mere atoms because they could- meeting your own golden gaze. You didn’t know what to do in this situation. You were not fucking prepared for this. - Yu I am never taking your advice again! Not until your frontal lobe grows in! --You need help ? -“ Ooooo~ you got a twin, princess?”
Maybe it was a combination of the shit day you’d had. Maybe it was the adrenaline of finally slipping away from Kenjaku. Maybe it was the damn dress you were wearing but you could not take this anymore. So, you looked up at the Saturo Gojo and you finally did it.You had your tantrum.“ Oh shit!” Dimly, you’re aware of the two men- teenagers - dancing around your form, still seated from where Gojo’s infinity had thrown you. And hey, wasn’t that something for the bucket list?
“What do I do? What do I do?”

“What did you do?!”

“Shhhhh, it’s okay, it okay- and she’s crying harder.”
You could understand why kids did this… this felt good. To just let it all out. All your anger, fear, and frustration in some tears and a few hiccups.
10/10, you would recommend.Something’s poking your face lightly. Your vision is a bit blurry, your cries dimming in curiosity as the shiny red thing in front of you.A candied strawberry. Right there.

There is no Toji to rob you this time.
You don’t hesitate to lunge for it, your baby teeth sinking in with a satisfying crack and you barely chew before swallowing, already working on the next piece on the stick.“Well, that’s mildly terrifying.”“Now you know how the rest of us feel.”Three pieces in and you remember you have an audience. A very important audience.
You look back up, and Kenjku’s face is in front of you. But it’s not Kenjaku’s, not yet. There are no stitches across his brow, no monk clothes, and his hair is tied up in a man-bun rather than free-flowing. This is Suguru Getou. The sane version. You still can’t help but wince as he reaches for your face.“Hello there,” the back of his finger’s brush cracked pieces of sugar from your cheeks, purple eyes soft and voice calm. Every attempt to be comforting for a lost child. How sweet. Would he be like this in the future? If a random lost kid ran into him on the street? You don’t know.“Where’s your mama and papa, sweetie?” You look up at him, blinking slowly. Like hell, you are going to tell him. The three cannot meet in person, not until Kenny’s brain is inside that skull and Gojo trapped in the prison realm- It is a really good thing they are not mind readers. “Where are your parent’s kid?” Gojo is considerably less nice, almost bored, but you can see his eyes, and how they fixate on you. He’s bored, but you're an interesting distraction. Everything is a distraction to him. He doesn’t have a purpose yet.Blue planets blink and he looks away, “Weird kid.”Getou elbows his knee without looking away from you. “Can you tell me your name, sweetheart?”“Mio.”His smiles, fox-like eyes squinting, “That's a lovely name. Do you know what your mama’s name is?”“Which one?”“The one that ain’t ‘ mommy.” You glare at Gojo, sticking out your tongue. He sticks his out back at you. Getou just chuckles.You stand, patting the dirt out on your dress- hopefully, the thing is ruined forever - and you notice the matching tiara on the floor. You smile as someone steps on it, the cheap plastic snapping beneath oblivious boots.“What a shame.”“No, it's not.”Getou frowns at you, “Aren’t you a princess? That’s a very pretty dress.” Gojo’s snicker turns to a yelp and he’s pulled down.“No. Imm not a princess. Don wanna be.”“Why? What girl doesn’t want to be a princess? ” You and Gojo gag at the exact same time, and Getou is mildly regretting he’s not recording this.“ No !” You stamp your foot. This is more words you’ve spoken in a week, but this has been killing you all day, “Not pwetty. Color all wong for ‘air.” You hold up one of your pigtails to illustrate the point, and Getou, like a normal human, nods in agreement.You then point at Gojo, now sitting cross-legged on the floor rather than matching Getou’s squat, and look down at him, summoning all the Kenjaku snobbery you can muster. “An no princess! No one tell me wha to do!”“Really?” you recognize the tone of voice, the drawling “ oooo really?” voice that’s rightfully infantilizing given your current age … should be age? How old are you really?
“Then what do you want to be?”The question is redundant, but you can’t help to consider it. Who do you wan to be? You want to keep Yuji alive and prevent some tragedy, but what do you want for yourself? You think about that burning in your gut. The sensation that’s only growing stronger even as you’ve been containing it , which is oddly dim right now , but you think you’ve already figured out what it is.
Even without Yuji, you wouldn’t have gotten a normal life in this world.“Happy. Or conqueror. Or ‘ermit. See wa life make’ me.”You shrug like that's it.Gojo and Getou are both looking at each other with the same closed smiles and crinkled eyes you sometimes share with Yuji before doing something you know will be stupid. That silent communication. It does not bode well.“Was you names?” you ask, patting your hands together and rocking on your heels, looking up at them with what is, hopefully, wide and sparkling doe eyes.“Well this is Gojo Satoru,” Getou motioned to the white-haired teen, who threw up a peace sign and just said “ Yo.” “And I’m Getou Suguru.” You smile, waiting as Getou tilts his head ever so slowly, and his eyes, slowly, blink closed. “We go to the same school to-”You’re already gone.The two boys look at each other, the same thought running in their heads, the scent of smoke and cinnamon still tingling in Suguru’s nose.“Shaman-child?”“Shaman-child.”And the chase is on.You run as fast as your little legs will carry you… which given how messed up your genetics are, is pretty dang fast. Psycho-evilness aside, you will give it to Kentucky, they have done a masterful job.
“Why didn’t you grab her?”
“She would have bit me!”
You would have. You really would have.There’s a kikufuku stand in front of you, you are tempted to toss it at your pursuers, one in particular , but you don’t think you could pay the vendor back and you don’t want Jin to get into trouble… so you just duck under it and loop around.
“Did you see her?”

“KIKUFUKU! Hello! I’ll take three dozen of your zunda and two dozen of the fresh cream and-!”

“No time for food! Child, Satoru! CHILD!”
You giggle. This is rather fun.- YuYu, option one or option two? - -Two! Two! Two - Mmm , well option one was going back to the candied fruit, but if Yuji wants option two then the store with all those stuffed Kirby's it is! You might even get mistaken for one with your fluffy pink outfit.Everything is remarkably bright in this world.“ Have you seen my daughter? Where is my child?” Why the fuck did you decide to be optimistic?“ Yurei! Yurei come out here right now! So help me, young lady, I will leave you here!” There, five feet ahead of you is Kaori, running around like a chicken without a head, screaming to the heavens, and occasionally shaking a random passerby. Your leash, the one you unclipped yourself from is wrapped around her hand like a boxing glove.You think you see security approaching.Slowly, you take a step back. And then another. And then another. And, slowly, you turn around.
You're off like a shot. Hopefully, Ken wasn’t lying with the threat to leave you behind. You were pretty sure you could run your way home. Pretty sure.
-Change of plans Yu, mission aborted-
-Aww….so candy? -
-... I’ll see if I can grab something-

-No tell Mama?-

-NO telling anyone!-
“YUREI! GET BACK HERE!”
Shit, shit, shit-

You’ve been spotted, you hear footsteps closing in, oh, you're so doomed. The pen for eternity. For eternity. Sukuna will be released and you’ll be in the pen. The Culling Games will happen with you in the pen. You will die in that pen. You will be reborn for your third life and Kenjaku will find a way to have you spend it in the pen. Or a jar… that's also on the table.
-YuYu, come visit me when I’m in prison-

Concern

Confusion

Laughing

-THIS IS NOT FUNNY!-
“Woah there, little lady,” a hand grabs you, and the world goes sideways. “Ally-oop!” You see the floor in front of you, gravity pulling your pigtails forward and…It’s Gojo, and he’s carrying you underneath his arm like you are a football.
Only Gramps may carry you like this!
You struggle, grunting, as you press against his arms, but he only laughs. Still carrying you away like you are nothing. Hands in pockets and without a care in the world, “Geeze kid, you’re stronger than you look, aren't cha? Hey, hey calm down, I’m not going to hurt you.”You try to bite the arm holding you, but the freakishly limber limb is strapping you down like a vice. If Kenny weren’t so close, you’d start screaming.“Oh, good, you caught her.” A hand pats your head, and your teeth snap on empty air. “Fiesty, isn’t she? Were you this feral, Getou?”“I don’t believe so, but we shouldn’t blame someone for defending themselves if they feel threatened, especially not a child.”“ Let me go!” Your head gets patted again, and this time your teeth do land on something, your eyes lock on Gojo’s, your mouth pried open by his infinity but the fingers are just within reach of your teeth.For a moment, you paused.
You have been using your mouth a lot lately. Do you have an oral fixation? Didn’t Freud have a theory about that? If a child wasn’t breastfed enough they’d develop one… huh, maybe Jin and Wasuke’s nitpicking had a point.Or, maybe you were just a creative soul.Your teeth clamped down, and you could feel the technique blocking you, but you just looked up at Gojo. You smiled and his drops.“Hey, hey wait!” You shook your head like you were auditioning to be tick-tock croc in the next rendition of Peter Pan. Bite you could not, shake until those bones were vibrating, you could.“ Ow, ow, ow, stop it! Kidwe’retryingtohelpyoustop!” A camera flash goes off. You still, catching Getou taking pictures in your periphery. Weirdo.Shaking his head and pocketing the camera, Getou squats to reach your eye level and smiles. “Hello again.”You glared.“Can you let go of my friend?”You shook your head.“Please?” You glared and shook your head.“I’m sorry if we scared you, we didn’t mean to. We just want to talk to you, Mio.” He tilted his head, a lock of hair falling across his face, “Your jaw must be hurting. Wouldn’t it be better to let go of him?” He has a point. And it would be significantly easier to scream if you had to. You still didn’t want them to meet Kenjaku, but getting mall security wouldn’t be too hard. If worse came to worse you could bite them again. And instruct Yuji to send over Jin on a rescue mission.You let go of Gojo, spitting dramatically as if it had been the most horrible thing in your life.He had tasted like peppermint. You kinda wanted to eat him.“Thank you. What do you say, Satoru?” The strongest modern sorcerer grumbled out a thank you in between a few “am I infected? ” and “ RCT can deal with germs right?” “Do you think you can say sorry for biting him?”“No.’“Why not? That’s not nice.”“It’s not nice to ‘ase round a three ‘ear old ither. This is ‘indnapping!”“ YOU’RE THREE?!?” you winced at Gojo’s yell, the sorcerer who was currently reevaluating his life at the information he’d been called in to track down a three-year-old, “What is my life?”Rot brutally pummelled into your senses, the only warning before vindictiveness incarnate grabbed Gojo’s collar.“ Put down my daughter right now or I will gut you where you stand! ”You know, the idiot should really take this situation as an excuse to practice his techniques more. This was just embarrassing.
Also, Kenjaku was meeting Six-Eyes and Cursed Spirit Manipulation.
Oh right, this is why you kept your stunts inside the house. Because you couldn’t have anything nice in this world!Other than Yuji. Gege could pry him out of your cold dead hands.
Embarrassed

Love

Excitement
Yes, Yuji was stuck with you forever and you’d pull a Rika if need be to ensure it. Thankfully, such extremes were not yet necessary. Yet. But given your rising panic, the presumed mishandling of canon, the risky possibilities of this encounter, and the blood rushing to your head from Gojo’s mishandling. It’s too much. Kenjaku is staring at the three of you like they're ready to paint the center red, witnesses included in the massacre. Gojo and Getou are oblivious. You can see and feel them tense, how Getou is angling himself in front of you two, how peppermint and static are rising in the air, how rot is coating the back of your tongue. This is a mess.
It’s all your fault.

What can you do, to stop three special grades? You’re a baby.
A baby.Your lips stumble, your throat clogged and heavy as panic rises in your chest, desperation rises and sparks something you didn’t think possible; “ M-mama!” The sorcerers freeze, the two imbeciles with a combination of guilt and embarrassment at their apparent almost-kidnapping, but Kenjaku…Kenjaku is looking at you with those wide gold-fish eyes, face pale as a sheet and scars stretched tight against her skull.
She’s not looking at the teenage special grades.She’s just looking at you.Your throat is tight, your airways feel like they're shrinking, and something wet dibbles on your face. You open your mouth, but all that comes out is an intelligible cry, eerily similar to the curses you shrieked as you came from the womb.You’re still yelling out a curse, but it’s one this life has gifted you rather than mere expletives.”“ Ma-ma!, Ahh-” Your control is slipping, you feel like you are being consumed from the inside out and you don’t know if it's the burning heat or pure emotion that’s shredding up your insides.
You feel Yuji, distant, your bond pulled thin, and his concern and spike of fear makes you want to go home. To wrap yourself in his presence. To be cradled by Jin. To be balanced on Wasuke’s knee.Your hands reach for your tormentor, your nemesis, the person you can and cannot blame for this lot in life.
You call for Mother.K does not move. Arms still outstretched from previous pleading and attempts to grab you or strangle the teenagers- you think the limbs might be shaking slightly. Muscles convulsing underskin, like a computer program that’s been overridden and fritzing out.You're not much better.Getou takes you from Gojo. Holding you upright and shushing you as he pats your head. “I’m sorry,” he says, “We’re not stealing your daughter; we were concerned to find a child wandering out alone.”He passes you back, Kenjaku’s arms slowly enfolding you, pressing you against their chest as if they could absorb you with contact alone. You hear the great rumblings; a heart pumping, intestines working, a stomach grumbling, and blood flowing within a corpse that should be silent.You grab their shirt, rubbing snot and tears into the fabric as you bury your face into that stolen sternum. It’s the familiarity you gain comfort from. It must be.How could you ever feel safe with a heartless monster?Suguru Getou watched quietly. Enraptured as Satoru chattered beside him. Apologies and backhanded compliments on the gremlin child, before he had to step away to take a phone call.Sweet syrup, pooling into his senses like a haze, a rotten bitter earthy aftertaste pulling him out of his thoughts. His mouth moved before he could think.“You're a sorcerer.”The woman’s eyes narrowed as she pulled the child close. Her face blank and her eyes shifted between him and Satoru.“I’m not part of any of the major clans, my ability is barely noteworthy to begin with. I'm certainly not worth this harassment.” her chin lifts and her lip curls into a sneer, “Especially by some students.” Ah, the uniforms. For the first time, the black cloth felt a bit tight and the golden buttons a bit too heavy. Suguru adjusted his collar, a blush hot on his neck. “We were worried about your daughter. We had been called in about unusual cursed energy readings, the theory had been a spirit-consuming competitor or a rogue shaman. I guess we have our answer now.”The readings would be a better match with an untrained sorcerer, like a child, but not even Satoru could have been exorcising curses at three. Better not to point out sloppy work to an already enraged mother.
And Mio’s signature was small as it was, he’d only been able to pick up on it when she’d been crying. She was a grade four at the most.
A weak sorcerer to-be. That child needed to be protected, from a misunderstanding world and cursed spirits that would be too eager to cut down a potential threat.“I assume it’s been you that has been handling the curses around here. There hasn’t been enough activity to warrant much attention since I joined Jujitsu High School.”Sniffing, the woman smiled, a hand stoking Mio’s head, rot entangling and covering wisps of smoke, “of course, what mother wouldn’t protect their offspring?”The mother giggled, her energy remaining in the air even as the wrath disappeared from her face in a blink. She leaned forward, whispering as if sharing a secret, and Mio’s eyes latched on to his. “My husband isn’t aware. Neither is my father-in-law, that bastard of a man has enough reasons to dislike me already. I don’t plan on telling them. Our world is a dangerous one- the more you know, the more likely you are to experience that.”Her head tilted, a closed smile on her face as a strand of hair fell over her face, tone calm and easy. Eyes soft. “If you could omit me and my family from your report, I would be very grateful. I don’t want my little one to get dragged into our world before I’m ready.”
-Too late for that bitch-

-Bitch?-

-A female dog, Yu. Tis a female dog-
“Of course. I understand. Since there isn’t any active threat, I don’t think it will make much of a difference.” He bows, Satoru stamping on his heels behind them, fully engrossed in the phone and ranting about wasting his time.
”I had never realized how fascinating children could be or perhaps that is simply a by-product when they are mine…” The woman drawls, shifting Mio to her hip, the toddler biting her fist and looking between them. Adorable.“What is your technique, sorcerer?”The question catches him off-guard. Again, he answers without much thought, the words slipping out like honey from a jar.It makes sense to ask. To be curious. Gojo Satoru is distinctive among their people, so it is only natural to wonder what power is assigned to walk beside him. To wonder what clan is still keeping their edge. To see what politics may ensnare and what pull his name and power may hold. The mother hums indulgently as Mio pulls on her hair. Not even blinking as the hand used to free the captured lock is promptly bitten and held hostage. How wonderfully patient.She chuckles, eyes crinkling and mouth stretching. She still hasn’t stepped back from when she first leaned in, if anything she moves closer, feet aligning back under her shoulders, body straightening to look him in the eye instead of up.
“What an interesting capability! So, unique! I wonder if it’s a result of a spontaneous mutation or an evolution of recessive genetics…”
Mio started pulling on her mother’s shirt, the neckline visibility distorting as the fabric stretched. Tiny face scrunched, head trying to shake the hand still caught in her mouth. Unlike Satoru, her mother didn’t react to such antics. Instead, she remained focused on him, eyes unflinching and voice soft, kind, maternal.“Don’t fear, I don’t have any prejudice towards someone's origins. Power is power, and we all strive for it regardless of where we start.” It was as if she could see through him, see the insecurities, and old wounds that he’d let scab over. There was no unnatural sheen to her gaze, just empathy.
Empathy that must have been borne from experience.
“Just imagine a world where only the Kamo, Gojo, and Zen’in clans existed; the genetic bottlenecking and inbreeding would be outrageous!” She laughed, warm and soothing, syrupy and sweet, Suguru felt his mind slowing in the face of such sugar. It was different from the energized craze of Satoru Gojo. It was lulling and disarming. Inviting. “People like you and I add a little spice to the mix! How can we evolve if nothing new ever comes?”The woman tries to reach out, but Mio grabs her mother’s wrist, possessively pulling it back, mouth still latched like a leech.“If you are ever back in Sendai, please come to my home, I’ll treat you as if you were mine.”
Cinnamon and smoke. Sweetness and decay. It burns his nose, but his mouth can’t help but curl into a smile.

A loving mother and a protective daughter. A sorcerer able to raise their child with the attention and understanding so many of them grow up lacking. Here in Sendai of all places, because of the acts of the strongest, this fragile domesticity can bloom.A child and mother, and he’s helping to protect them.He bows again as they leave and waves as the little girl watches him, golden eyes as unblinking as her mother’s. They still linger in his mind, even as the pair disappear into the swarm of humans.“So we’re keeping quiet about this little secret? That there are three unregistered soccerers running around Sendai?”“ Three?” “The girl was a twin. Strong bond, I could see them interacting the entire time.” He’s silent for a moment, eyes unfocused under the dark lenses of his glasses, “I’ve never seen that before.”“The mother said something about bringing them into the fold when they're ready. I don’t blame her for putting her children ahead of clan traditions. It's noble really.”He can feel Satoru shrug as his body drapes over him, spearmint and ozone wiping out the fading traces of the other sorcerers.“You know you owe me, I lost a stick of tanghulu during that chase.”“How about I get you that kikufuku ?”“We’ll have to eat it on the way back. The geezers are calling us back for a new mission. something to do with a star or whatever. You got my back?”And Getou smiles, the words out of his mouth because there is no thought needed for them.“Always, Satoru.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Things change when given enough time. In that way, evolution is inevitable. Small things grow and shift deep inside an organism. Deeper than you or even Gojo would be capable of seeing.

Gojo Satoru never saw Geto Suguru’s heart darken until a village burned.

How could you ever hope to notice a darkened heart fall further?

What could you do if you noticed?

Nothing.

You often awaken in the dark. At night when it’s silent and still; when monsters like to creep through shadows and hide just beyond what you can see.

In the beginning, it was because of Yuji. He was your starting point as he often is; waking you, mind screaming out in hunger, discomfort, or loneliness, tiny lungs working hard to propel the shrill screams your infant body couldn’t even roll over to ignore. It might’ve been a good thing, in the long run. Desperation had a way of pushing limits, and your bond developed far faster than in the womb. His heartbeat and quiet thrum of life were enough to anchor you, but your brother needed a more attentive touch. As your bond strengthened and he quieted, a stream of reassurance, warmth, and pressure akin to the possessive hold you’d had on each other since utero, would ping-ponging back and forth between you. You were connected, you and he. Even if Yuji didn’t realize it yet, it was the both of you against the world.

In later years, as hunger and fear were replaced by the soft nonsense of dreams, you were awakened by the creak of floors and the dim stretch of rot. There was a schedule beyond nightly feedings. An itinerary that had grown just as dependable as the way Yuji’s mind would nestle into your consciousness. The ever-lingering menace would disappear just as the sky was tinged in orange and red, only to return once color had been leeched from the world.

For your first two years of life, Kenjaku ignored you completely. In the night, under the moon’s revealing glare, there was no husband, no nosey father-in-law, no audience to play pretend for. The mask, though not the person-suit, peeled off. Sometimes it was by the window, or the door, or maybe in the rocking chair that the scientist would sit, still and mute, but awake and watching. As if a sentry, or a warden, Kenjaku would stand guard and observe.

Waiting

for something that never came.

In your third year, you came to understand it all a bit better.

You would wake up in the dark to distant sounds and creaks that were decidedly alien from the surefooted steps of your incubator. But it never dared to breach the safety of the nursery, and it never lingered where the curse user’s shadow fell.

Until one night.

Maybe it was the excitement of the day that had made Kenjaku late. Maybe it was complacency that made the old geezer slip up in their self-assigned duties. Or perhaps it was paranoia, and the curse user had lost track of time in their mania. All you knew was, that the very night after you had met Gojo and Geto, the rot-stench of Kenjaku faded away as the sun fell and hid behind the horizon and it did not return with dark.

But something else did.

Something knocked. Something scratched. A shadow brushed against the walls of your crib, a sound swooshed just beyond the open side, and a pale, and a pale translucent hand emerged into the light. Something clammy poked your chin, and a cold breeze raised the gooseflesh on your limbs as something pulled down your blanket, exposing your neck and arms.

Something wet dropped on your face, and your eyes squeezed closed as the warm, viscous liquid dipped down your cheeks like a mockery of the formula you’d been weaned off of. A nail traced your eyes, your nose, your lips, your chin.

You stopped breathing as it leaned over you. Nose pressed into your hair and icy lips on your forehead. A hand wove its way under your blanket, under your onesie,

and under your neck

.

The hand was familiar, the stench was not. There was no sweet rot. No great and distant rumblings.

There was only the smell of blood and something dark and oppressive that was smothering you. Something bitter. Something barely sweet. Something like rancid meat and garlic and shit. Something truly

rotting.

The hand raised, carrying you with it. Your upper body leaves the safety and warmth of the blanket and mattress, and another hand traces your face again, that bitter smell

suffocating

as a palm covers the side of your head and fingers clamped down like a vice.

You struggled, arms flailing and legs kicking as you kept your eyes closed,

you do not see, you do not see, you do not see-

A sting. Your own warmth leaking out into the night. Your blood spilled in the half-heart grip of the cursed spirit that held you.

Yuji began to wail.

The thing dropped you and wailed too.

You kept your eyes closed, your body still.

You do not see, you do not see, you do not see-

But your ears could still hear. Your senses could still feel. You could still sense the sudden wave of rot and syrup that clouded the nursery like the surge of a tsunami.

“You keep coming back don’t you?”

Kenjacku had come.

“They’re mine now. Everything is. So just move on already. Shoo.”

The small embers of burning within you cracked and shifted as the thing came closer. Fear keeps you alive, and fear wants you out of the situation. But the spirit didn’t return for you. It backed to the crib next to yours instead.

Though you could not see it, the dead woman was hunched over the sleeping Yuji. Hissing and wailing, taloned hands slashed at the air whenever the imposter came close. Her blood-stained stomach pressed against the sleeping boy, as if trying to absorb the child, to return what must have been taken. What she, in spirit, never got the chance to bear, but in body was

hers.

A toddler may not return to the womb, but one may certainly suffocate their way to a spirit’s side.

While not particularly intelligent, this Ubume had been persistent and admirably sneaky. Always trying to get in. Always trying to get close. It was not often Kenjaku was faced with the consequences for his chosen face, but motherhood had a way of surprising the millennia-old sorcerer. Many surprises in fact.

The spirit did not react as he touched the daughter. Bruises and a small cut dangerously close to an artery, but overall fine even as the little one shook in the bed.

Terrified

would be too small a word for it. With dismay and a strange sense of anger, he noticed how she had wet herself. Tears ran down her face, salt entering the abrasion as urine stained the sheets.

In the dark, it looked remarkably similar to blood.

Cursed energy latched on and smothered the dear like mucus from birth. Residuals of the very pest that curled around the vessel like a cowering bitch. Tenderness turned into violence.

“You don’t care for our little ghost?”

Disgust settled in their borrowed gut. Rejection was not anything new, and favoritism even less so. He was guilty of it for

all

of his offspring. It made sense that Yuji Itadori’s perfection would be a masterpiece that even the spirit of his original egg donor couldn’t help but gravitate towards. But Yurei?

She was his own.

Wasn’t that what Jin said? And wasn’t it true? The intelligence, the pettiness, the look in those eyes that mirrored Kenjaku’s soul in a way he’d never thought possible. Yurei was

his

. His creation. His child. His very extension.

An unexpected variable turned gift. A potential ripe for evolution.

How dare this shallow remnant of a mother reject her?

The ghost, or what was left of her, died at the hands of her own technique. Gravity folded her cursed flesh down and in until she was nothing more than a smooth round marble of pain, anger, and longing. It was impressive that such desire had persisted long after its creator’s end. Kaori had been dead by the time the twins were conceived, but it would seem her desire had lingered and been spurred on by their creation. The craving for a family,

for a child

.

Kenjaku crushed it beneath his heel.

Yuji was fine. Yurei was fine. The cursed energy was already fading, supplanted, and replaced by his own.

Perhaps it might be better to wait.

But no. Hesitation had allowed for this opportunity. Sorcerers had already been lurking. The twins were turning four in a few days; they had survived the riskiest time of childhood. In the modern day, it was practically guaranteed they would flourish until they came of age and entered the world of jujitsu.

It would be rude to cancel on Wasuke, plans had been made.

Plans had been made a very,

very

long time ago.

There was no need to wait. No reason to hesitate.

Kenjaku stood still, the light of the moon casting a silvery glow on soft toys and wooden blocks. On the changing table and rocking chair. On the rug on the floor and the mobiles overhead. The cribs seemed to glow, their inhabitants' sleepy angels within.

Kenjaku stood over one, a hand in his pocket, wrapped around ink-marked paper and the treasured seed that lay hidden within.

Yurei finally opened her eyes to look at him.

Gold, pure and burning. Wide and far too seeing, a gaze that would have been more at home on the Gojo prodigy than a little girl from a no-name deserter shaman.

She knows

he couldn’t help but think, regardless of how illogical, his little darling knew what must be done.

Kenjaku watched as the Umbume’s energy faded away, as his own covered and seeped through. He felt more than saw a tiny flicker of something else push against him. Not for the first time, he wished he might have Six-Eyes to peer in and peel back what little gift was hidden inside of you. Wishing that his technique allowed him to be more perspective of other’s energies beyond baseline auras. That he could absorb your mind and know you just as well as he knew Kaori.

But, then again, there would be no need for experiments if it were that simple. How boring would that be?

You and your cursed energy would remain a mystery for now. He could wait.

He was always waiting.

Smiling, the better Kaori stepped back and turned to the drowsy prince. Yuji had woken up at some point and was now rubbing the sleep from his eyes with a scowling face. Utterly oblivious to how close he had come to death, confused at the tears on his own cheeks, and the distressed mood he had awoken into.

-

Mo?

-

Gently, as any mother would, Kenjaku pushed the little fists down.

“

Now, now, you’ll damage your eyes if you do that, sweety. Don’t want to give your Uncle an astigmatism, do we?”

Normally, the little boy would giggle. He’d reached up to his beloved mother with grabby hands and a plea to be held. This time, Yuji was oddly silent. He was looking at you, eyes finding yours through the bars of your crib.

Concern

Worry

Unease

-

Mo?

-

Fear

Fear

Fear

“Ah, ah, ah, my big brave boy, look over here.”

Two fingers gently grasped his chin, pulling the child’s face back towards his own.

“Mommy has something special for you, dearest.”

The other hand lifted from a pocket, something made of paper and almost cigar-like balanced between their fingers.

-

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry

-

You cannot stop this. You’ve resigned yourself to it, but something inside of you is dying as Kenjaku puts the finger between Yuji’s lips.

You don’t look away. You want to but you can’t.

-

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry

-

“Eat it up. I know you can.”

You can almost feel it sliding down your own throat. The binding-covered finger was heavy and putrid. Indeed tasting of soap, vomit, and feces as Yuji would one day so eloquently put it.

You can’t help the bile that rises in your mouth.

“There, there, you're doing so well.”

You shiver as Yuji’s tiny throat works the disgusting thing down. Your faces mirror each other, teary eyes, flushed, and shared grimaces as you start gagging.

“See? Such a good job, little one.”

-

This won’t happen again. I’ll never let this happen against your will again.

-

You're retching. The heavy feeling in your stomach isn’t going away,

it's getting worse

. Yuji is curled up into a ball, tears freely running, and you can

feel

how his stomach is turning as Sukuna Ryomen’s digit settles.

Bile pushes up, and you force yourself to swallow it.

You're shivering. Curled up in the same fetal position with the same tears, the same pain as something new encroaches on your bond. Something foreign is weaving its way around the cord tying your souls together.

You hate it.

“

So, you are connected. A pity.”

A hand pats your head, fingers winding around your hair, pushing it back and exposing your face with a small neutral hum.

You stared up at those fish eyes, your insides on fire as that asshole looks down at you with that same damn smile. Kenjaku coos, their attention fixated on you.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, sweet thing.”

Hands pick you up, and you’re only half aware of it. You’re bathed, changed, and comforted as sheets are replaced and the cut covered with a bandaid.

It's all a blur. The only constant is Kenjaku’s face and the gold-flecked fish eyes that don’t blink.

He pats your back, soothing you in your silence, muttering praises and promises, giving the shivering Yuji only a cursory glance.

It makes you angry. Grabbing fistfuls of their shirt, your tiny nails scratch at Kaori’s skin, as the burning in your gut lifts and rises. You want to bite. You want to rip. You want to

devour

.

You don’t know what to do with that.

The faintest trace of smoke rises, familiar and comforting, and the monster hums as their hand clasps the back of your head.

“So strong, my darling. You’ll burn so brightly while you can.”

You are laid back down, the blanket replaced and the corpse tracing your features just as the curse had done before.

“I’ll always be with you, Yurei. Mommy will never leave you.”

Had it been said by anyone else, those words might have been comforting, as it was, you were just happy when Kenjaku left.

He was lying

.

He had to be

.

Why had you ever called them mother?

And why did you wish they’d act like one?

When the dawn speared its way through the last vestiges of night, you didn’t know what to expect.

No. You were

incapable

of expecting anything.

Your stomach rolls and twists, your chest heaving as shivers rack your body. Tucked into a ball, you couldn’t even lift your head or turn your body away from the shafts of light that cut into the nursery. You’re a mess and it wasn’t even the worst of it.

Yuji was the worst of it

.

You could feel him. The nausea, the disgust, something

new

that seeped into your bond and tainted it like a stain leaching into white wool. It was easing, slowly, but,

damn it all

, you both felt like you’d been hit by a truck and left to crawl off the road. Part of you wondered if this was what dying felt like.

It wasn’t. You knew that from personal experience, but this was still objectively terrible.

Something wasn’t mixing right, something was

off

.

You felt so, so,

hungry.

You whined and cried, tears and snot running down your face and you couldn’t stop. You felt like an infant again- worse than an infant. Even as a baby you’d had a sense of self-control, but now-

Now you wanted to peel off your skin. You wanted to grab something and rip it apart with your teeth, you wanted heat and warmth, and the putrid rotting smell-

Kenjaku’s presence, cheerful and smiling-

like the horror show the night before had never happened-

was enough for bile to crawl its way up your throat and your stomach to cramp and rage. You almost expected the organ to come alive, that it would dig its way through muscle and mucus, your skin splitting open with a red grin as it would reach out and open itself up like some carnivorous flower, smiling with teeth before latching on the curse user and devouring them whole.

You daydreamed about it. Oddly, satisfied with the concept.

You cried. You wailed.

And it just wouldn’t stop.

Yuji was no comfort. Exhausted and spent, he just looked around with bleary eyes, the constant thrum of his presence the only noise that traveled across the muted bond.

You wanted out.

You wanted to bite something.

You wanted to hold something close until it seeped through your skin and became part of you forever.

It scared you, these new feelings. Enough that you batted Yuji away when you were both put in the pen, his heartbroken expression and

longing

killed you just a little bit more.

Kenjaku just watched with a smile.

Him. You want him. You want his skull between your hands and brain squished beneath your fingers. You want that rot to be smothered under your skin and burned away till you can only taste ash.

But you can’t do that. You're a baby.

And that violent desire isn’t yours. You don’t want it to be.

Fear

Disgust

HUNGER

-

Mo? It’s okay, Mo. It’s okay.

-

HUNGER

Fear

HUNGER

-

I’m here, Mo. I’ll protect you.

-

You’re crying. Silent tears ran down your scrunched-up face, the pain still rattling your body- and you

know

it's only a fraction,

a reflection

, of Yuji’s- and yet your brother is still focusing on you. Comforting you, reaching out through the bond when you reject his touch, and sending waves of

love

,

reassurance

, and

warmth

.

He loves you. The pure adoration of a child, and it soothes the burning emptiness that lingers in your gut. A heart battling against your stomach.

Today, the heart wins.

Fear

Empty

Confusion

Slowly, carefully, Yuji shuffles to you on his chubby legs. Cautious as he breeches your space, waiting for you to push him away again.

You don’t.

He sits. A small

oof

as his diaper hits the floor. Gold meets gold, your sniffled breaths duet each other as your mirror reaches forward. His hand wraps around your wrist, and, even as the echoes of Sukuna Ryomen’s

stupid stupid relic

linger, he grins that toothy grin.

“I’m ‘ere, Mo. You donna need to be sad now.”

You lunge, your body wrapping around him just as he once did, back when it was just you and him in that tiny dark haven- a world without curses and fake mothers and death. A world that was just the two of you. And the hunger dies. The burning fades.

Within Kaori Itadori’s skull, a brain watches intently.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Time lacks much meaning for you in this state. There is the morning, the day, the evening, and the night. The only references you have are the sun and the schedules of Koari or Jin or Wasuke. On weekdays Jin leaves for work. Wednesdays Kaori does yoga. Sundays Jin comes to visit for tea.Round and round it goes. A calendar you have yet to fully integrate into but are at the mercy of nonetheless.
But there are always exceptions. Jin taking a day off. Kaori disappeared for a bit longer than normal. Wasuke dropped by with a gruff frown and fresh flowers. A horror-filled night that you’d prefer to stuff down and ignore, even if every sunrise is marked as yet another day between your now and the previous then. Another gap in time, another barrier that the monster seems less and less likely to tear down and impale you on. Kaori, who still watches and smiles and thinks , but keeps their distance from you. That grin twitches downward every time you meet their gaze. What you’d give to be in that brain- what you’d give to take back that thought. Everyday exceptions to the mundanity. That’s how you mark time.Today is one of them. It’s less a realization and more an observation.Your birthday is coming up, you think. You’ve caught Jin hiding ballons behind his back and Wasuke said something about expenses and sharing instead of getting two of everything. The hypocrite left two different bouquets of flowers. One in shades of blue and red, the other pink and yellow.There’s also the princess crown.It's damning, sitting there on a table just within your line of sight. Sparkly cheap plastic painted gold with pink jewels and feathers. Even more than the obnoxious abomination that was destroyed during the Mall Incident. If Yuji’s hair wasn’t pink, you’d be remarkably sick of the color. As it is, you can’t help but love it.That does not mean you want princess dress rendition number 2. You’d burn all the tulle in the world if it was within your capabilities. Burn it and dance in its ashes.Yuji watches as his sister’s face curls into a smile. Not like Dada’s smile, or Gramps, but something a lot like what Mama makes sometimes. Hands pressed together, fingers flexing, as their eyes narrow and lips slowly unfurl to reveal teeth.
He clasps his hands, happy that Mo is happy, even if he can’t quite understand why fire and screams and dresses torn apart are fun. But Mo’s laughing at it, so it must be good. It must be just one of the many things that make up the wonder that is Mo .You are amazing. Yuji doesn’t even understand half the things that he feels from you, the developmental differences keeping understanding just beyond his reach, but he knows that your important. That you are special . And you’re his .
Love

Warmth

Mine
Despite being so intimately connected, you do not have an ability to truly read Yuji’s mind. Nor can he have complete access to yours. Just as you feel and hear snippets of him, what he shares, and the distant mumbles of what he keeps, Yuji too is limited.Your mumbles just happen to be so much louder.
Yes. Something is different about today. Decidedly off as you see Jin run through the house, glasses crooked and a smile he keeps trying to smother.He’s not very good at it considering he keeps breaking into high-pitched giggles every time his eyes flick over to you and Yuji.
Concern.

Worry.

Confusion.

-Is Dada broken?-

-His danger sense already was-
That ever-familiar stench of rot sweeps through the room, you can practically feel it encircling the pen like a hungry beast- you promptly ignore the source of it, turning your back to Kenjaku as you sit with Yuji, watching as a toy elephant gores a stuffed cat. You nod in approval and try to pretend like your skin isn’t itching and your insides aren’t pulling towards the sorcerer who's laughing with Jin. No. You bite your cheek and turn your focus to Yuji . He’s what matters here. He’s what will last. You’ll ensure it. Safe is all you can think of as your consciousness brushes his, love and warmth enfolding you as you’re clumsily welcomed in. Yuji preening, his hand moving for your wrist as he hands you the cat.Stitched green eyes and soft white fur. Scratch out one eye, and then burn it slowly. Watch the plastic melt as fake fur incinerates. Pull it apart and let the stuffing fly. It’s okay because it's not real right? It’s not the author, just a stand-in. A vulnerable, unfortunately, resemblent stand-in. Yuji drops the cat in your lap, patting your head he nods, and then returns to the wooden elephant. He’s colored it pink. You don’t know when he’s had access to markers or why Yuji decided to make it pink in the first place, but it is a stunningly beautiful modification regardless and you make sure to complement it as deserved.You’re content to sit here with Yu and strangle not-gege. You are resigned to ignoring the cooing behind you.“ They’re so big now, Kay! I can’t believe they're four today!”
“I don’t understand why you insist on sneaking around. Not like Yuji is aware of what's going on, or that either of them will remember this.”

“So you want me to cancel the photographer?”
“No, that’s for my memory, Jin. A picture will last longer.” No, you do not shiver at the implication in that last sentence. You don’t.“Mo?” wide gold eyes stare into your own, both hands reaching out with the pink elephant, “You want him?”
-No. He’s yours, Yuji.-
“You sure? He helps! Suuuuper strong and safe.” The elephant is pressed against your cheek, Yuji smiling toothily as his eyes almost sparkle. You feel a little like a stray cat being tempted by a can of tuna. “He helps people. Blasts away bad guys with his nose- like this”
Thats all the warning you get before air and spit are blown into your face by the utter madman you call a sibling.You can’t help but laugh, teetering back to the ground. Eyes so filled with the image of Yuji’s proud little face, the world, Jin’s cooing, and even Kenjaku’s rot fade far into the background.In that moment, even if it won’t last, your heart feels a little warmer and the world less dark.You don’t think three-year-olds require much in the way of birthday celebrations, but, apparently, your parents disagree.
Part of those celebrations, apparently involve a trip to the mall. More specifically, a trip to the mall for a scheduled photoshoot complete with rented outfits.You fight to keep from hissing as you pull at the white sleeves of the dress you’ve been draped in. A kimono somewhere in your brain supplies. You don’t think you’ve ever worn one before.You… kinda like it actually. The fabric is soft and smooth, almost shiny, and dotted with embroidered red flowers. Your hair is down, trimmed to just below your chin, and brushed till it gleams. You feel pretty.You just hate that Kenjaku is matching with you.True, Kaori’s outfit is a brilliant red, with white cranes and splashes of something green tastefully decorating the fabric. But the fact that you are wearing similar colors is bad enough for you. It’s even worse with the knowledge it's with outfits they picked out.Truly, Ken exists to torment you with fashion.Yuji and Jin, however, are in exact copies of black and red kimonos and are adorable . Why can’t you be matching with them? Why? You stew quietly, frowning even when Jin cradles you and the photographer directs you to your places. There’s cake at home; you’ll focus on that while ignoring how the morning sun is glaring down at you and how Ken’s eyes make you feel cold regardless.
Cake and flowers, and Wasuke coming over for tea.
Love.

Warmth.

Curiosity.
You lean out to grab Yuji’s arm, he’s held by the monster,
and your parents- standing almost smooshed together really- are close enough that it's not too much of a hassle to hold him while being held.Faintly, you hear the clicks of the camera.
There was a picture in the manga. One of Ken-Kore, healed stitches and holding toddler Yuji as Jin stood at their side. A family portrait, what should have been the first of many. What, instead, became the last remnant of a mother that never really existed. This must have been that portrait.The kimono feels heavy, alien, with that thought. Your outfits don’t belong in that portrait any more than you do.
So why the change?
You wish you could ask- that you were brave or stupid enough to do so, but instead, you bite your tongue and keep your frown.Just one more mystery of this world. You’ll debate about the implications later. Maybe when Jin hangs up the picture, or when the source of your bafflement is gone.Satiated, you relax into Jin’s arms, your own hand clasped tightly around your twin, and focus your gaze on the empty lens that’s capturing this moment for all of time.You do not look up at Kenjaku.
You wish the rot had not become so achingly familiar to you.You hadn’t seen any hints of the jujutsu world. No appearances from Gojo or Getou. No Toji dropping by the flower shop. No curses- or at least no curses like that night. You’ve started noticing them now, lingering outside home or in your periphery when you're taken out. They never come close.You make sure never to give them a reason to.Part of you is sure it is only a matter of time before those ugly bastards rear their heads- part of you wants them to, salivating at the chance of a fight, of blood and energy and teeth- you will enjoy peace while you have it. You’re living on a countdown to chaos, after all. But somedays… some days feel like they are just asking for trouble.Today for instance. It seems a little on the nose, some horrible life-altering trauma occurring on your birthday of all days, but at the same time…What else do you expect from Gege’s world?
And yet.
You're given a cupcake. Small and covered with icing, Yuji slams his face into it before anyone can start singing.You shrug and do the same. Why not? A flashing camera is the one constant of the evening. You both passed around, cooed over, and played with. Wasuke gives you a flower to hold, and Yuji promptly tries to eat it. Jin hands you over to Kaori, you promptly try to eat her. Just like Yu, your attempts are met with failure and laughter.Your chest buzzes, warm and aching.By the time other faces enter the Itadori home, neighbors or friends you think- people who greet Jin with friendly words and Kaori a slight bow- you’re already done with this iteration of a birthday. Tucked into Wasuke’s side, holding another flower, this one a bright cheerful yellow, you and the old man watch the festivities with a content fondness. Happy, you realize as a person talking to Jin hands Yuji a gift and Koari lets out an unimpressed snort. You feel happy.
Surely bad things will come now. Now when I’m not ready for it, when this world almost seems good.
But it doesn’t. Instead, this good world fades out, dulled by the thudding heartbeat of your grandfather and the constant joyous thrum of your better half. Destruction does not come for you.It doesn’t come on your birthday.
It comes the day after.
You were empty.The realization came on suddenly. A moment of nothing and then a moment of everything, as if you’d suddenly gained a new awareness of the cracked heated thing you called a heart. Another hole had formed. A yawning cavity opened its maw, cold and vacant, devouring what once had been cradled inside the organ.Empty. You hadn’t felt this since the dark haven. Not since you found that thrum. Not since Yuji wove his way into your soul .And now, something you hadn’t even realized you had was gone.They’d left. A quick grocery run they’d said. A prescription pick up for new glasses, checking out a sale at a boutique, meaningless mindless errands that would be faster with two than just with one. Wasuke had come to babysit. Jin and Kaori had left, and now. And now- Jin was gone .You don’t know how you knew. One minute you're stacking blocks on the floor, the next you're staring at nothing, the world's gone quiet, and something is missing from your chest. Jin is gone .You can feel it. Right in your heart where a little piece of warmth has died, where something was stolen away. When had he become part of you? Why was he part of you? Jin is dead .
A piece of you is dead.
You felt it, a door closing, a page-turning, a lock’s pins ticking against ill-fitting teeth. Something has ended.
You can’t go back. You can’t open that door, you can’t restart this story, you can’t turn a key you don’t have in the lock.You can’t go back.“Mo?”
Dead. Dead. Dead and gone. And you're here, still breathing, still living when you should be gone too.

Why hasn’t Kenjaku killed you, yet?

Grief.

Grief.

Grief.

Why couldn’t he just get it over with?
- Mo! Mo! MoMoMoMo!-
Will you fail? Will Yuji be snatched away too?
- Don’t leave me, please, don’t leave me- “I will never leave! Never ever!” He shakes his head emphatically, “Don't cry, I powtect Mo forever! I’ll beat up wat makes you sad!” His little face looks so determined, and you can feel it, that drive immature and unrefined, but strong and sure , that you could see him charging at Sukuna himself, toddler or not.Oh. You're crying.
And Yuji is holding you, tiny hands pressed against your skull and pure panic on his face. He’s crying too. And you feel it, the ache, sorrow, grief, and fear that is pouring out from him.
It takes a moment, a second of you reaching out to comfort, to realize that it's not coming from Yuji at all. “I’m hurting you.” And you ignore the frantic shaking of Yuji’s head, the way matching pink hair flies and his hands press harder against your temples.
“ No! No, Mo never hurt me. And I’ll never hurt Mo. Ever! I protect. I help!” “We’ll protect each other, YuYu.”
You won’t promise to never leave, or that you’ll win against all the monsters- you won’t. You barely have a chance against the darkness that lurks in this world, and you don’t know if you can stay standing against the suffering that will come.But you can promise that Yuji will not only have that suffering in the future. You can promise that you’ll take on some of that pain.In the anime you remember how obsessed Yuji was about a good death, to give that final piece of dignity to those around him and give his own life meaning. Well, you have your own part to add. “ I promise you’ll have a good life.” You breathe out, your hand latching onto his wrist. Not one free of suffering, or harm, or violence. But, as a vision passes of a bloodied and scared boy wailing amid debris overlooking a decimated city, you can promise something much simpler.”You will be happy, Yuji. You won’t be alone.”If it weren’t for how entwined your souls already are, you might’ve noticed the vow that pulled you even closer.—By the time the police knock on the door, grief and resignation have already marked you like hot tar.Yuji still doesn’t understand. You don’t think he does. But the boy refuses to leave you.He does not ask for Ma or Dada. He only says your name every time your soul begins to drift, mind turning to that dark cavern still bleeding and aching.You smell Kenjaku. The rot pervades, stinking everything until it is all that your senses can perceive of the world.You hate it. Even Jin’s clothes smell like them. You don’t know why you keep returning to it.Wasuke keeps you inside during the transition, not letting you talk to the movers who take your things or the well-wishers who drop by with food and condolences. You and Yuji remain at his side, the old man unwilling to let you so much as go to the bathroom without knowing about it first.His paranoia is understandable. His silent anger even more so.You just wish that he wouldn’t save his crying for the late nights.Within a week, you’re being loaded up, Wasuke taking you both somewhere far away from Sendai and the ghost of his son or the shadow of his monster bride. You are content, lungs breathing rot-free air for the first time in your existence, and a horizon of possibilities awaiting you. Yuji falls asleep holding your hand. Wasuke drives, puffy eyes fixated on the road like it might come alive and eat you whole.It’s only you, staring out the window and watching a passing world, that notices the stranger on the corner. Standing just on the outskirts of the town, a woman with a face-splitting grin waves at your little car.You don’t wave back, and the air, clean and fresh, feels just a bit emptier.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

If there is one thing you’ll give Ken-Chucky credit for, it was that they made life interesting while they were in it.Hair pulling, sleep depriving, and a constant level of psychological torment kinda interest- but interest regardless. Some days you almost missed it.Yep. It was official. Your development had officially been screwed over. Then again, what can you expect from someone whose brain has teeth.Time passed in its oddly quick yet slow way. In a blink, you were three, then four, then five. A baby to a child and life showed no signs of slowing. Change, you couldn’t help but wonder, had a way of doing that. Of freezing the past, preserving it entirely, but cutting you off completely from that era. Never going back, not capable of lingering, the only way through was to move forward until the next end sliced that time away too.They were gone, and both of them were never coming back.After Kaori’s act of homicide, or the accident as the police put it- something that made both you and Waskue sneer, your shrunken family moved away from Sendai. The move surprised you. You had never thought the Itadoris would exist anywhere other than that out of the way countryside town. Still, based on canon, an eventual return was inevitable. Or you hoped it was.Surely your existence hadn’t changed that much. You’d only been a drooling repressed baby for crying out loud. You certainly hoped you hadn’t taken canon so far off course with a poorly timed tantrum.Didn’t you? If you weren’t in Sendai, if Yuji never went to that middle school, then he wouldn’t find the finger. Wouldn’t eat it. Wouldn’t be pulled into the jujitsu world under the threat of execution and last wishes.Unlikely. Yuji still housed a finger and Ken-cod had put in to much effort- too much investment, not to pull something regardless of your family’s physical location.It was… inevitable.So, you kept quiet. Soothing your twin as the only world he’d ever experienced fades away. Trading the laid back oasis of the country for a buzzing city- one that made you almost puke, it smelt so strong, so bitter it made your stomach cramp and skin itch. This was not something you could have predicted. Had you any say, you’d recommend a trip to another country entirely.Alas, Gramps did not ask for your opinion on the matter.
Wasuke didn’t ask much, really. He said even less.It reminded you a bit of Kenjaku, how the old man would silently watch the pair of you, unblinking and still, as if you’d both disappear the moment he turned his back.You didn’t leave the small apartment for a long time after you arrived.From what you could gather, Waskue still owned Sakura and Higanbana. He’d hired help to run the flower shop while you all lived in the city; Kaori and Jin’s life insurance offered enough cushioning to allow for it and a small rental in Kyoto. But those finances, and child protective services, were enough of a monthly worry that the isolated den your grandfather built was slowly taken apart.It started with a job. Construction work after numerous failures at trying to be a cleric, Gramps apparently “didn’t have the face for it,” poor man.
You’d made a point of kissing his forehead everytime he carried you around after that. Grumpy, older, and jaded he may be, but that was still your Gramps.
Yours. What would you do when he left you too?
You saw Jin in him sometimes. When he’d fall asleep in his chair, the tv playing with the latest anime Yuji was into- all of crunchy mom’s hard work being flushed down the drain- Wasuke’s face would soften, lines smoothing over and his raspy breath deepening.He’d usually wake up with you tucked into his side. Neither of you said anything. You never had to with him.The final change, as you and Yuji where released into the grand and frightening world, was one you really should have expected.School.Six years old and you were about to enter hell. Yay.Backpacks almost double your size, a calloused hand holding one of your own, the both of you were escorted to Kyoto Primary School with a degree of weariness.You had barely left the apartment within the last two years, especially not after the incident. The multistory building ahead of you, nothing but white concrete and glass, seemed no more inviting than a graveyard. Had about the same amount of curses too, if your senses were right.
You’d already done this all before! Why must you suffer again!
Yuji, tucked behind Wasuke’s leg stared up at your grandfather pleadingly, worry, worry, nervous, wafting off him to such a degree that a few curses began to approach. Low levels with pudgy insect bodies that could barely hover off the ground; they never got close enough to be threatening.Nuances. The lot of them.“You two, listen here.” Glazed eyes flicked away from the awaiting purgatory and to the frowning old man, your expressions perfectly matching even as your gaze sharpened. “Don’t cause trouble and be respectful to your teacher. Yuji-” the boy yelped as the leg of safety was pulled away, “Be brave and protect your sister if any twerp pulls something. But don’t forget to make your own friends.”A finger tapped against your forehead, that same gruff voice and stern face focused on you.
So worried, so nervous. He’s going to be pacing most of the afternoon away. He can’t control life, he failed to protect one son, now an opportunity for more loss comes from you both.
“Ya gotta talk for yourself, girl. Don’t make Yuji here speak for you, stand up for yourself and be polite to your teacher!”“I will, Gramps.” you smile, “As long as their not stupid.”The old man snorts, not appeased but certainly amused, “You’re good kids, don’t let anyone tell ya any different. Now go.” With that, you're both pushed forward to the concret monstrosity and Wasuke leaves without another word.Perhaps it is the sudden absence of your trusted adult, of that constant source of stability, but Yuji almost seems to awaken. A switch flipping from dependent to depender, and you can feel his hope, excitement, and, yes, lingering nerves. His hand finds yours, and the start of a new era begins.It was quite comical, and oddly similar to several pictures of you both as infants; Yuji, bright-eyed and animated, and you scowling and flat as sunshine incarnate drags you into a glorified prison. Granted. This was your first time in the Japanese school system, but the similarities were enough that you were prepared to write off the experience and dropout before puberty just made everything worse.Children scared you.Just sitting there. Staring. Smiling with almost adorable gapped-toothed grins, beady eyes sparkling. They were so loud, and touchy, and blunt, and egotistical.All perfectly normal given the developmental standards, but you weren’t part of those standards now were you?You… didn’t really know how to be a child. It was embarrassing to join in on some of the games, annoying when your perfectly organized supplies got disturbed or distributed out and returned covered in dents, doodles, and mystery goo.

Disgust.

Boredom.

Sadness.

Eventually, your peers stopped asking to borrow your things. You were completely oblivious to the shadow at your back, how the sun flared and glared at the poor souls that caused such silent despair and resentment.Faintly, you did notice that, while no one asked Yuji for anything, he was always the first to offer when Sensei’s gaze turned to your desks. He was always the first to speak for anything really, the both of you disregarding Gramps command to try and be independent. Rumors circulated that the youngest Itadori was mute. You didn’t care to correct that assumption.Your selfish little heart was perfectly content with this arrangement. And, despite the distance kept within those early years, Yuji didn’t seem to mind it either. It was the two of you against the world, and if Yuji shielded it from you for a bit- well, you were a selfish little creature, weren’t you? You’d pay him back for it. You’d promised to.
“Mo is special! She’s not stupid!”

”There is nothing wrong with my Granddaughter! What’s wrong with the rest of your disrespectful brats, huh? Are you teaching them to alienate along with their kanji?”

“Mo is my sister! She’s amazing!”

“Mio does not need any testing done. There is nothing wrong with her brain, emotional or otherwise, if anything she’s smarter than all of you! … I have the notes left behind by that woman to prove it.”

Yes, you are a selfish little thing.
You did not care if Ming and Tai were getting married during break or if they had decided to divorce by the end of the day and now had shared custody of their eraser-children. You did not care if all the girls flashed and waved their hands, bragging about the brightly colored nails their mothers had helped them paint. You didn’t care how the boys taunted and claimed to be the strongest when they all ran so damn slow. You didn’t care who had gotten a note in their lunch or whose dad had walked them to school that morning.You didn’t care. You took note- but that wasn’t the same as caring.You cared about Yuji. You cared how torn he looked sometimes, between you and your self-exile to the far corners of the tiny world of children, and the shrill laughter and screams of that world. You cared about the barbed edge of anger that would radiate whenever he saw Sensei. You cared about how his mind would grip your own, holding tight and almost shaking as any poor deluded soul, child or not, infringed on your shared orbit.You cared about Wasuke. And, oddly enough, you cared when those disappointed eyes met yours after you’d both been sent home; Yuji with bruises and a victorious air, you without a scratch but the shock of seeing goodness incarnate tackle some nameless boy who’d tried to sit with you in his seat.You were selfish but you cared. How exhausting to be torn between the two.Wasuke pushed and corrected, perhaps, in the original world, that was enough to shape Yuji Itadori into the golden soul he was meant to be. But here, in a world with you on his shoulder and in his head, there was more than one guiding voice to listen too.You were selfish.-Don’t leave me, Mo.-But you cared.-I never will. Now go have fun. Play for both of us.-Sometimes, as you sat on the far edges of the playground- hopefully looking every bit as dramatic you felt- a familiar phantom scent would pick up on the wind. Most of the time it was the sharp bitter scent of curses, but others, others it almost smelt like rot.It was never like that one time before. The incident. The first time you’d all left the apartment only to come back and have your eyes water at the odor. You had thought something died in the vents. Wasuke had practically torn the walls apart at your insistence. Nothing was ever found.A few things did go missing. The abused cat plush. A drawing. The kimono picture.It had never been as strong, but sometimes, you would swear there was the faintest whisps of rot in the air.You learned to tune it out. As you grew, nothing came of it. Why should you care?Life was boring. Part of you hated it.You could feel valuable seconds of your life being wasted with every school day and when cram school was added in the evening, you felt the last traces of your control shrivel up and die. It wasn’t much different from your time as a toddler, this endless waiting, except you actually had motor skills and expectations to meet.Sleeping in class became a game. Lesson roulette; Sensei would smack down a ruler on your desk and you’d have seconds to jolt back to consciousness and give an answer to the question of the day.
The grumbling frustration and resignation that would emerge every single time always made you resume your nap with a smile.

Admiration.

Envy.

Warmth.

-Don’t slack off Yuji, I’ll quiz you later-

-Onee-san!!!-
By the time you reach seven, most teachers know better than to interrupt your sleep schedule. Occasionally you’d find yourself under the bright-eyed tutelage of some poor soul that thought they could make a prodigy out of you.Nope. You were staying in the same class as Yuji even if you had to flunk every exam in order to make your point. You were the bane of every adult in your life and there was a level of sick amusement from their exasperation.Ah, well, there wasn’t much to engage with that would hold your attention longer than five minutes. The shame of being at a university level in an elementary school. In all honesty they should be on their knees thanking you that you haven’t diverted into more… active forms of entertainment.You’d had a teacher ask Wasuke once if you had a habit of wetting your bed. Or if mysterious things had happened to animals while you were around. It was only after the old man’s face turned red; and a very long and loud lecture that had ended with the man looking like a crumpled ball of paper on the floor, that you finally understood the implication of the questions.Kids were strange. You, inherently were strange. That didn’t mean you were a serial killer in the making… or a psychopath.You felt things.

You did.
You- you weren’t a psycho. You weren’t.
“No matter what you do or don’t feel, Mio, you’re a good kid. Choose to be good and that’s what you are. Doesn't damn well matter what anyone else says.”

Love.

Worry.

Warmth.

Maybe Kenjaku had messed with your head more than you were willing to give credit for- or maybe that was just a cover up for who you were. Maybe that distance you’d always had to your old memories wasn’t just because you were reincarnated.
Maybe you were just defective.
“You chose to be who you are, Mio.” A gruff voice murmurs late at night, Yuji sprawls out between you, a small snot bubble inflating with every breath, and a hand brushes the bangs that fall over your closed eyes. “And I know you are good, my girl. Just like my Jin.”
Gramps really deserved more than the world gave him. Just as he pushed and corrected Yuji, that calloused steady hand also guided you. Questionable mental state or not, you’d be a much more concerning person without him. That school should have been on their hands and knees thanking him.Yuji as well for that matter. Despite being equally as much of a pain in those first few years, he’d joined Wasuke as the angel on your shoulder… or rather the Jimmy Cricket in your head. The amount of time that boy had talked you down from the ledge of impulse and intrusive ideas should qualify him for sainthood.
Yuji always seemed to understand you when others couldn’t.At first, Wasuke was just like the rest of the authority figures in your life. Significantly more paranoid and stubborn, but just as unrelenting and narrow minded even with his hidden gooey softness. You were seven, why the hell should you care about your grades and showing proper respect to elders you would never see again.

Life was in a countdown; either a fiery doom in shibuya or execution due to finger eating. Or due to treason because like hell you’d let Yuji be executed- Sukuna or not.
You had higher priorities. Like breathing. And mastering your poker face. And figuring out your psychological status. And trying not to antagonize the curse in the corner of the room. You counted yourself lucky none of them willingly got within five feet of you, but it was only a matter of time with your luck.In short, education could suck it. If you could test out and become Yuji’s permanent tutor you would.Alas, it would seem that somewhere you’d gone from potential prodigy to serial killer in the making and back up to descending delinquent.Cue the Book Incident.A reading log and book report you were accused of falsifying; because of course the pink-haired menace couldn’t have read ten books in a week and written a paragraph summary for each with words like hence without cheating.
Wasuke didn’t think you’d cheated either, the man had seen you read those books and listened to your rants about subpar plots. In the principal's office, your feet swinging underneath the stiff chair and Sensei glowering at you, Gramps had gotten the oddest smile on his face as he listed out a compromise; you’d redo the assignment during a detention period under supervision.
“You can do that right, Mio? If you’ve done it once, I’d say you can do it even better.”
You’d taken it as the challenge it was.Rereading the ten books, dramatically turning the pages as you’d locked eyes with Sensei Hardass, the reading portion was completed in two days. You’d then brought in ten more books, most of them in English and all of them far above the deemed level of your ability. Or age group. Two days later, you turned in twenty book reports, all of them including the word hence, and proceeded to offer a short lecture on intersectional themes of hospitality and trust as was presented in host and guest relationships within historical Medieval Japan, Greek mythology, and western literature like the Great Gatsby. That was the most you’d ever spoken in public. You couldn't figure out if the heads poking into the room did so out of awe of your content, or sheer bafflement at the sight of your mouth moving. It might have been both.Again, you were seven.You may have flown too close to the petty sun.At eight, your third-grade teacher finally seemed to understand the memo. You were left alone to read at your leisure as long as you got passing grades.
And you did. Always at the same level as Yuji.Yes, the sadistic little monster in you did find the eye-twitching absolutely delicious.Your rapidly gaining a reputation as a punk to be; between the flagrant disrespect, know-it-all attitude, and complete disinterest in most activities would pin you as a prepubescent bum- if it weren’t for how you obviously weren’t cheating- in your opinion taking you to another room for a multiplication exam was unnecessary; and pointless, but you’d never ask Yuji for answers on principle.Overall, not a bad childhood. So far at least.
And then came the day when Yuji got sick.Your bond, though the specifics and true nature was beyond you, did not just physically transmit feelings or thoughts. Sometimes, it also transmitted physical symptoms. Sukuna’s finger- you mentally spit at it- triggered a similar reaction. You’d never gone through something that bad since, but allergy season was something you’d wish on only your worst enemy.This time the problem was nothing more than the common cold. A common cold that left Yuji feverish, throat scratchy, and nose permanently running. A cold that left you uncomfortable in sweaty clothes no matter the temperature and constantly wiping phantom snot from your face. Unpleasant.Given your usual close proximity, you'd likely be properly ill within a few days, but, till then you still felt his muffled view of the world and tried to reply with as much comfort, love, warmth, as humanly possible.May this have unintended consequences on your awareness? Potentially. Did you care as you ran towards Kyoto Primary, your sole purpose of turning in homework and gathering notes for the day before you could sneak back home? No.Maybe you should have.Usually, you’d do this walk with your brother. To do it alone felt off. So, running was only natural. Your small body ducked and weaved through the crowd with ease, your movements far too fast for a normal human. Rot whispered by your nose just as you turned around a corner a bit too quickly.All you saw was black as your face planted into the back of someone’s knee.
Embarrassment was quick, especially as you felt the person stumble. Swears and anger palpable, burnt coffee clearing your not-stuffy sinuses. Rubbing your nose, you really hoped it wouldn’t bruise. Glaring, you looked up at the obnoxiously tall person who’d been in your way.Only for your blood to freeze.“Why you impudent little monk-” Suguru Getou’s tongue stilled as he looked down at the child who’d run into him.Pink. Pink hair, gold eyes, and a startled glare that pinged something in the back of his brain. Something important.The little girl sniffed, shuffling back, hands holding tight to the straps of a school bag, she looked at him wordlessly.
An arrogant little human. She looks the same age as Mimiko and Nanako.
“Aren’t you going to apologize?”She shakes her head. Hair coming loose from its ponytail, the pink strands flare out only to fall just above her shoulders.It’s familiar. That coloring, that hair cut, that cold look. But it’s different too, like two pictures overlapping to create one. Does he know her?She moves to duck around him- quick, far too quick for most people, and why does he half-expected her to run? But Suguru moves on instinct, his hand grabbing her shoulder. He isn’t even fully sure why. She is just a random civilian, a monkey, not even worth the dirt on his shoe.But he grabs her.And then he feels it.
Cinnamon and smoke, cursed energy that rises out and clouds around her. It snaps at his own, a hungry little beast clawing at him, and Suguru’s hand jolts back.The energy disappears, but the memories come.A little sorcerer family living in Sendai. A mother and the pink haired daughter, she’d been a toddler then and he’d been a teenager.Not that twenty-one was that far away from sixteen in the long scheme of life. But with everything that had happened…

That had been the last mission before everything had gone so terribly wrong.
Suguru had gone to Sendai. Looked for the Sorcerer Mother, extremely embarrassed once he’d realized he’d never gotten the woman’s name… but there had been no sign of the family. He’d been forced to give up. Not long after, he’d found his girls. And he’d saved them.And he’d been banished from jujitsu society for it.Mio- he remembered that name-
Mio, taking the momentary introspection and shock on the part of the curse user as the opportunity it was, had already fled out of sight.

Yuji, back at the apartment, found himself rudely awakened from a medicated nap by his twin’s mental screaming.

Suguru, finally returning to the present, found himself confronted with two realities and one possibility.One. He’d finally found something related to the mysterious sorcerer.
Two. It was a child. A shaman-child who’d repressed a decent amount of curse energy to the extent he couldn’t even sense it until Suguru had made direct contact. That skill was rare in adult trained sorcerers, but in a child?
It was common for all the wrong reasons.Nanako and Mimiko had been like that when he’d first found them. Bruised, beaten, and caged. Frightened for their lives, suppressing cursed energy was almost instinctual to young children. A natural reaction to life-threatening situations. An old survival mechanism.And the pink-haired girl was doing the same thing. And Mio did it expertly.Cinnamon and smoke lingered, and something broken and used started to awaken in Suguru Getou again.
A sorcerer needs help. A child was in danger. He could save her. Save her like he failed to do for Riko. Like he succeeded for his girls.

Suguru Getou, the second strongest, could help protect a weakling.Across the street, a man’s smile stretched wide against skin, teeth clenched tight and squeaking against a shifting jaw. There was a moment of hesitation before neurons fired and nerves echoed their commands. A breath of air, a pause, and bit by bit pressure relinquished. The mask smoothed back over.Pushing back brown hair, finger pads pressing against the stitched incision, the man let out a hum.
The response was intriguing. Without the aid of hormones, he’d expected interest to fade, and yet.Perhaps a portion of that woman followed him over. Some inane chemical that had merged with him just as his own DNA had overwritten hers.An interesting theory. He might have to think about that.He watched the Curse User. Watched how that filthy outstretched hand hovered in the air, how it slowly recoiled back, cupping an untouched temple. Even from this distance, they could see how the shocked face morphed, how aristocratic features hardened with resolve, as a body turned to the direction of the long gone child, eyes narrowing against the dust she’d kicked up.
What fun.
It would be prudent to make his move now. Now when his prey is vulnerable and the vessel he owns is tool enough to use. It wouldn’t take much for a trusted face to lure a target into seclusion, out of the sight and awareness of surrounding humans. Into the dark where life could be snuffed and a vessel abandoned. Circumstances ripe for another strike against sanity and then a finishing blow to cut short this Curse Users life… but there was an intrigue there.He was a curious thing, and time wasn’t against him for the moment. Why not indulge?
He’d moved quicker than he had in centuries, scooping up and restoring this vessel as soon as the opportunity presented itself. It wasn’t his preferred type; not influential, not particularly powerful, and rather aesthetically lacking if he were to put it nicely.
The teen reminded him of Jin really. There was use in that, the finer points of manipulation required a level of investment. Affection created a hesitation like no other.
He was above that. He always had been.
The Curse User was vulnerable. Separated from Six Eyes and spiraling down. It was only a matter of time till the fool sealed his own death, if not by execution than by his own audacious arrogance.
What was more audaciously arrogant than to touch what was owned by Kenjaku?
Let this unique opportunity play out… He might just get more than a new tool out of it. He might get a bit more time as well.The Curse Manipulation technique wasn’t going anywhere. If anything, time would make it stronger. Time made everything stronger.
Except for humans. They’d just grown stagnant. Weak.
There were a few exceptions to that truth, and there was a level of satisfied pleasure that his creations were proving similarly exceptional. Perhaps he’d had more of an influence in their genetics than he’d first believed.
Afterall, they’d done so well in this new city. Adapted magnificently; Sukuna’s Vessel had developed nicely. Strong, potentially as strong as the last remaining Zen’in Heavenly Restriction brat, perhaps more so when the Spare dies, and he had proven also begrudgingly charismatic. In a childish naive way, shy and oblivious to the awe-stricken looks of his peers and the fondness of his teachers.
And yet, he looked to Yurei for everything.Had he not birthed them, even Kenjaku may have mistaken the younger for the older. It was a pity, that sharp intelligence stifling under inept teachings. Turning that bright little spark to a smoldering ember on the outskirts of a meaningless world.That boredom the Spare floated along in, languished in, only emerging to meet a challenge before sinking back into the depths of mediocrity. His creation was better than that, capable of more than that.Perhaps that was why they kept returning. Curiosity and frustration over the stagnation of so much potential- short lived as it must be.
Neglecting the wards hadn’t yielded much results. He’d kept the ones within Wasuke’s pathetic den intact- what did that man even know about protecting offspring?- but not even the steady removal of protections around the school or along the Itadori’s typical route had forced the Spare to develop. No curses took the bait of fresh young meat, and Yurei never seemed to see curses as a challenge.He knew she could see them. Her mask was a fine thing, but a mother knows.If Yuji were to be targeted- but no, that would put the plan at risk. That would not be acceptable, the goal must be completed first and foremost. Entertainment and answers were, sadly, secondary.But his ghost had grown restless. The Spare still felt that boredom, slow as she was to satiate it. He could see it. In the sharp strikes of her writing, in the listless face she wore every afternoon, in that imperceptible distance to every lesser creature around her.
His creations were predators, and one of them had already grown her teeth. A pity she was not using them. Typical offspring required little more than time or a scare to develop their techniques. Of course, in no universe would anything of Kenjaku’s creation be typical. If a curse was not enough to awaken her potential, then perhaps a more human hand was necessary.
Perhaps this development might satiate that boredom.
It certainly would abate his.