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damn-stark · 7 months ago

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Chapter 41 Thus with a kiss I die

Chapter 41 of Sugar

A/N- No surprises by Radiohead, you won’t thank me later but it fits this chapter!!!!

Warning- Swearing, ANGST!!!, death, flashback, SPOILERS!!!! long chapter!

Pairing- Choso x Gojo!fem-reader, Suguru Geto x Gojo!fem-reader

Episode and or chapters- Chapter 259

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

*SOMETIME AGO*

“Blood manipulation training day 1,” you talk to the camera and back up to show Itadori, Kamo, and Choso training, but first you pamper yourself and smile at the camera before stepping away to let the others get in view.

“What are you doing?” Kamo asks right as he spots the camera across the mat.

The three of you look at him and you glance at the camera as if it isn’t obvious before looking back at him and explaining. “Recording today's training? It’s good to record some part of it and go back to see what you did wrong. Aoi and I would do that when Yuki trained us. It’s,” you snort and shake your head. “It’s a pretty good idea. We have a lot of funny reels—”

“Fine.”

You pout at the boy's interruption and sit down on one of the benches to watch the blood manipulators at work.

Honestly, you wouldn’t have come but Choso insisted because he wanted to show you how he taught his brother.

“Hm…the trick to convergence,” Choso muses as he rubs his chin in a very smug manner.

“It looks like I’ll be doing switch training with Okkotsu, and Kusakabe,” Itadori says. “So I’ll need to work on blood manipulation the hard way. And we only have one month. Gimme every piece of advice ya got!”

“Through blood and tears,” you interject quietly as you think of a funny pun, and end up catching the attention of all three men.

“Oh,” Yuji feigns a laugh, whilst Kamo looks at you unamused, and Choso rubs his chin and squints at you.

“You’ll just need to learn through blood and tears Itadori,” you repeat louder and a lot more smug because you could think of something you deem funny.

“Literally,” he feigns another laugh and this time Choso finally snorts and chuckles, making you smile wider.

“Good one,” he points at you. “I like that one.”

You shrug smugly and cross one leg over there. “Now why don’t you show me what you got baby.”

Choso’s cheeks grow a shade of pink but he doesn’t falter this time, not in front of his brother.

“Well, convergence,” he turns and swings his arm. “It’s kinda like this…” he pauses and swings to the other side. “Then like that…then a lil’…”

Oh, what a sweet man. As good of a brother as he is, he doesn't really know how to teach does he?

“Seriously dude?!” Itadori remarks.

Then again maybe it’s the student as well.

“Cho!” You call him out, and he peers back to listen. “Why don’t you show him that blood armor thing?!” You suggest so he could take off his vest and his shirt.

“Well,” he finally tells you smugly without breaking into timidness. “Maybe…”

“He’s not ready,” Kamo cuts him off and faces Itadori. “Think of bathing in hot water. You can feel the heat encompassing your entire body. In that same way, you can expand your blood vessels, creating a vague outline of your body. That’s the basic foundation of blood manipulation. ”

Hm simple enough. A lot more helpful than Choso's way of teaching.

“Like when you piss yourself?” Itadori surprises you by blurting, which shouldn't be surprising, he has this goofy sense of humor, but still, ew.

“Uh, whatever works,” Kamo mutters with the same disgust you feel.

“Convergence is a technique that compresses your blood,” Kamo continues sharing with Itadori. “Meaning we can use a sponge or paper- anything that can be crumpled in your hand easily—To help with imagining it’s a similar feeling, cans or clay work too.” He motions with his hand, making Itafori nod in comprehension before turning to face his older brother.

“Choso,” he says. “This is what it means to teach someone.”

You look over at your boyfriend and can’t help but smile and grin even brighter when he starts to point at himself. “Supernova! Ask me about Supernova!”

“For starters,” Kamo counters quite respectfully. “We don’t have time to make blood manipulation a potent weapon for Itadori. It’ll be better for him to get the basics of stitching and stopping blood down.”

“Hmph,” Choso huffs in defeat and with a hanging pout that makes you walk over behind him to probe.

“I would like to know about Supernova.”

Choso slumps down and mutters in defeat. “You can’t even use blood manipulation.”

You push away from him and sit back down with the same pout he just used when he got rejected for teaching.

So much for tagging along!

Nevertheless amidst your growing boredom as you listen to Kamo, your phone rings, and when you check, it’s none other than your business partner, Kong.

“Oh, well what a welcoming surprise,” you greet the man smoothly. “Kong. Honey.”

At the sound of the man’s name Choso slowly sits up straight after being brushed aside to be replaced by the better teacher.

“Geto,” Kong greets quite irritatedly.

You sigh and sit back. “Can we make this quick, I’m in the middle of something.”

“Fine, get this man to stop following me. I gave you everything you needed. You found Geto, leave me alone,” he says rather brashly, which is not to your liking.

“Oh? Well fine,” you feign reassurance but then lean forward and actually click your tongue and inhale deeply as you prepare to bring something up. “But lately there’s been this…well, how can I put this…rat running around in my business…and you know if you don’t kill them they just fester and then it’s hard getting rid of them. What should I do?” You ask casually and glance at your nails.

Kong doesn’t miss what you’re insinuating with that clever choice of words so he sighs deeply and quickly argues. “I gave you everything you have. It’s all mine.”

You sit up and laugh, genuinely laugh, making his breath falter.

“You believe that?” You ask quietly in a voice that makes chills run down Choso’s spine.

“I know it,” Kamo claims confidently.

You feign a smile and remark sweetly. “Your business would’ve been nothing without me. I made it what it is, it’s mine, but because you did lend me a hand in starting it, I’ll give you a second chance. Or else I’ll call the exterminator, it’s not impossible to get rid of rats. Good day, Kong.”

You end the call and put your phone away before sitting up and swinging one leg over the other to continue watching the teaching going on in front of you.

“You know…” Choso trails on. “I could show you piercing blood. It’s pretty simple.”

You blink and look over at him, feeling your whole body ease at the mere sight of those rich brown eyes and that sweet smile. And after seeing him get turned down for teaching after being so excited and talking your ear off about all the things he’d teach Yuji, how can you turn him down?

“All right,” you give in and jump to your feet.

Choso follows you up and slips behind you to slip his hands under your elbows and push your arms out, making you smirk mischievously and bat your lashes before peering over at him.

Choso sees that smirk playing on your lips and swallows thickly before looking at your hands. “Focus,” he scolds you softly since he’s fighting the temptation of your soft lips calling his own to you.

“Okay then tell me.”

“Well,” He goes on and slithers his hands down your arms to grasp the back of your hands and push them together.

“It usually, you know, runs up to my fingers and I shoot. And that happens by bringing up all the blood to my hands and shooting at my target,” he says with growing excitement that makes you genuinely smile and just watch how his pupils glimmer. “I usually feel the heat and a…blood orb collects in between my palms before I shoot it. Which is similar to fire, hm?”

You summon fire to your palms, feeling the heat of the flames run through your veins before they glow under your fingertips. You don’t intend to shoot so you can keep the fire inside so as to not make a mess and disrupt the other learning opportunity happening across from you, but you give Choso your answer.

“Hm,” you hum in agreement and turn your head slightly to meet his gaze, feeling his burning desire under his inventive gaze, and his hot passion on your hips as he gently squeezes them.

“Your stance matters,” he speaks quietly but in an enticing way. “Your footing on the ground must be strong.” He says and glances at your lips, making you feel his blood rushing down to his member between his legs since he presses himself close to your back.

“What else?” You purr and bat your lashes, making him part his lips and breathe in but not mutter anything, you leave him at a loss for words over such simple gestures.

But he also burns you up with his intoxicating smell engulfing your sense of smell, those soft pink lips grazing the side of your ear, his hot breath unfurling over your cheekbone, and that sexy look in those beautiful rich eyes.

He’s such a distraction as he stands so close and that’s a mistake because before you know it, fire shoots out of your hands pointed ahead. When you feel it slip out of your fingers it’s already flying right in between Kamo and Itadori, and hitting the wall, completely missing them by mere inches.

“Oh,” you gasp and cover your mouth.

Choso steps back and looks at the burning hole you made and then looks at the shocked faces of his brother and very distant relative.

“I’m sorry,” you quickly say apologetically as you clutch onto your chest. “I’m…” you trail off and glance over at Choso, but that’s a grave mistake because the moment you do, you both watch each other with guilt for a second, but then you both look over at the black hole emitting smoke from the aftermath and start laughing.

Kamo and Itadori don’t find it funny because they were close to getting burnt, and Choso does feel sorry for almost being the cause of hurting his little brother, but you both can’t help but just laugh with each other. It’s like you’re enticed by each other, and hearing each other laugh only feeds into your humor.

——

*NOW*

Amidst the scorching heat that was quick to force itself through your secret art technique that was slowly failing at keeping you and Yuji safe from Sukuna’s divine flames, was suddenly a life-saving coolness that came with a pitch darkness.

Perhaps it’s your end, this was death coming back to collect what escaped its grasp before.

You don’t want to die. Not yet. Not in front of Choso, not when Satori is waiting for you to go and pick her up to take her home. You don’t want to die here either…

However, before you can convince yourself you’re dead, through the deafening darkness is Choso. He’s very close to you, and he was the one who saved you and Yuji from those deadly flames.

You had heard him calling out to you before, but this wildfire was so overwhelming that your mind quickly drifted your attention away. But now he’s here, he’s your savior and you can't help but smile with relief until your heart sinks to your stomach and this sudden bone-chilling fear hits you.

Something doesn’t feel right. Something doesn’t look right about him keeping up the shield made of blood, and rather than him just being covered in soot and slashes like Yuji and you, Choso seems to be getting slowly consumed by fire. And you would know, you have that technique, you know how it kills a person and the pungent smell of burning flesh.

But this can’t be what you see or smell, not from him.

“Choso,” your voice shakes while you still want to smile as you cling onto hope.

Said man meets your gaze and a charming smile decorates his features. He then glances at his brother and his smile only turns more fond as he speaks his name and yours with a gentle tenderness.

“Choso?!” Yuji exclaims as he too starts to realize what you do but what you keep wanting to refuse.

“What are you doing?!” Yuji proceeds to yell.

You study your husband's face and that fire seems to be consuming more of him right in front of you, and you can’t even stop it.

“You can’t do this!” Yuji remarks.

That smile doesn’t falter, his eyes drift down but that charming smile stays on his face. “I’m sorry,” he finally explains what’s going on. “I was useless during training. Your big brother tends to do things instinctively.”

Why can’t he stop?

Why don’t the flames stop?

Why?

“Cho—” Yuji cuts himself off mid-shout and draws in a shaky breath before his face falls and averts his gaze. “Instinctively, huh? You really hit the nail on the head…” he trails off and shares a moment of silence with his brother that makes you think that he needs to stop or he’ll die. The fire keeps eating at him. It keeps taking more of him away from you.

“Choso,” your whisper trembles, and the charming man slowly looks over at you. This time that smile falters.

“What are you doing?” You ask the same thing Yuji asked not long ago in hopes the answer would change and the outcome would be a hopeful one.

“My love,” he whispers softly and with so much fondness. “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head and step forward. “You promised,” you throw at him with a burst of anger. “You swore!”

He nods without shame and swallows back a lump of emotions he didn’t want you or his brother to see. “I did, I meant to keep that promise, I really did, but what husband, what brother, and what father would I be if I let you all die when I can do something to stop it?”

“We could find a way,” you argue desperately. “I can—”

“No, I saw it,” he cuts you off confidently. “You were going to collapse and I was going to have to watch you die all over again. I don’t want to live just to see that again, you deserve a happy life. I wish—”

“No!” You bellow mid-sentence and want to lunge forward to grab his face as if that would stop the inevitable, but the space is so small that there's no room to move any further, leaving him just out of arm's reach.

“Please, no,” your anger falters and your agony seeps through. “Please…Choso. Tell me what you want to say after. Please,” you break into a shaky sob.

His smile trembles and his eyes cloud with tears, but instead of saying all the beautiful things he wants to recite to you from one moment to another your surroundings go from grim and then to a serene view of vivid green hills, and a timid sun letting the night sky shine.

“Tsukumo threatened to pop my head off my body if I ever hurt you,” Choso mentions casually. “I didn’t believe she could do it until I saw her technique at work.”

You blink and keep your eyes fixated on the beautiful scene conjured up by nothing but the last remnants of his will.

“She was really protective of you,” he mumbles as he starts to notice your aggravation. “But that’s how big sisters are…” he trails off and he reaches over to grab your hand but you pull it away and hug your knees to your chest as you keep watching the gentle breeze move the sea of grass.

“I’ve,” you stammer and clear your throat to let your anger sound clear. “I've lost so many people I have loved, and maybe it’s my fault. I’ve gotten attached to them in this cruel world, but…I thought you wouldn’t let me down. You out of everyone. So w-why?” You can’t help but cry before you snap your head to the side to pierce your watery glare into him. “W-why are you leaving me?”

Choso sees how the last glimmers of the sun capture your eyes and his breath catches in his throat while that tough act falls because the truth is you were one of the few people he could be completely vulnerable with. You could see him sob and he wouldn’t feel like he was looking weak, he didn’t feel like he was letting someone down by crying in front of them. He feels comforted.

“I don't want to,” he finally admits with every word pampered with emotion. “I wanted to live a long life with you and our family. I want to be a father, I want to be by your side, but I’ve lost you once, and I’ve let Yuji down once, I can’t do it again. I can’t…so please don’t fight me on this, my love, please just let me look at you one more time. That way when I look into your eyes all I’ll see is my sun…my moon…my stars…my most beloved, my love, you.”

You can’t. You can’t accept this fate, you can’t pretend to be okay just to make him feel better about his sacrifice. No matter how sweet his words are, you don’t want them to be the last thing you hear, you don’t want this to be your final moments together.

You can’t be selfless. Your heart shattering and turning to nothing but dust terrorizes you. Your chest collapses within itself, and the beauty of the world vanishes to nothing, so you can’t smile.

You sit across from him like you would do when you would watch the city in your sleepless nights when you were trapped in that apartment for nine days. You hold his gaze with your eyes pampered with tears so you can plead and beg speechlessly and desperately like your life depended on it. Because it does, he’s the light that had once vanished in your life, he’s your hope and a part of your soul. How can you not fight for his life?

“Please don’t do this to me,” you cry, but not in that made-up world, you tell his withering body that had little to nothing left of the man you love because of that scorching fire that keeps consuming him.

“I love you,” he redirects endearingly and with that same amount of appreciation and tenderness he always held for you since the day he remembered who you were and what you meant to his old soul.

Albeit you’re selfish, these are the last words you’ll hear from him. Ever. After this…all he’ll be is a memory and you can’t accept it. You already lost one man you loved to death, you can’t lose another one to him again. Not again.

“Choso please don't do this! Stop! Please stop,” you beg with your life. “Choso!”

He holds your fire-kissed eyes that he loves so much and that he found hope in after a century of darkness, and all he sees is his joy as well as the love of his life and he can't be happier that fate was kind enough to let him cross paths with you.

“I love you,” he says a lot softer and with a quiver he can’t hide.

“No,” you sob. “Don’t leave me, please don’t leave me!”

He wishes he could stay and live a long life, he hates hearing you plead so heartbrokenly, but he can’t watch you or Yuji die, he has to do what he needs to do.

Thus he holds your gaze for a lingering second and then looks at his little brother.

“Thank you Yuji,” he now dedicates his last words to his little brother before his life can be taken once and for all. “Thank you for being my little brother.”

Yuji inhales sharply and shakily before filling his brother's heart with sweet words full of love. “Thank you. Big brother…”

After those words are uttered Choso’s chest stops moving once and for all, filling his protective blood bubble with a grieving silence that you can’t process.

You stand there with no heart left, and hundreds of words left in your mouth that you never got to tell him.

“Choso,” you call out even if you’re looking at a cruel reality. “My love?”

The protective blood shield that kept your surroundings dark begins to collapse welcoming a grim sight of thick smoke and a burnt city, proving Choso’s attempts worthwhile.

But you can’t be appreciative, not when his lifeless body falls on the ash-covered ground with a thud. You actually can’t even believe he’s gone—no refuse to accept the truth.

“Choso,” you cry out and crawl over to his body that would’ve been unrecognizable if you hadn’t seen him burn away. “Choso, baby, you,” you say between sobs. “You’re okay. You’ll be okay.”

You gently cradle him and lean your face down towards his. “Just heal, you can do that,” you speak madness. “Do that for me please.”

You don’t think of your babies growing inside you who won’t know their father, you don’t care about his brother he left behind or that some part of you thinks you deserve this agony for all the things you’ve done, all you care about is him and your grief.

“Choso, honey,” you coo as you caress his hardened face. “Heal. Please,” you beg.

There’s still so much you want to tell him. You still need to tell him you love him, how grateful you are to him for loving you even after all the evil you did, for loving someone so cruel and selfish; for seeing the good, your strength, and your beauty. You never got to thank him for all the happiness he filled you with, or for caring for your daughter the way he did.

You never got to tell him that he was the love of your life, or that he completed your soul.

He left you like Suguru left you, and like Satoru did.

He left you empty with no heart or soul left. There’s an empty shell, left even more hollow without your brother. And it hurts, it pains you deeply with such an agonizing pain you have never felt before. It leaves you numb and unaware of the fact that in the blink of an eye, you were suddenly transported with lifeless Choso in your arms just past the area Sukuna vaporized with his fire.

From one moment to another, you’re facing a leveled city straight out of apolocpyse, and the next you’re staring numbly at an abandoned city as empty as the husk you call your body.

You would say that you were alleviated from that sense of danger, but the truth is you didn’t feel it. You don't feel the urgency to move away and protect yourself or who you carry in your body, nothing matters but the hope that Choso will somehow return. And now that nothing else surrounds you, now that Sukuna isn’t stomping your way through the clouds of smoke, you just disassociate yourself. By will or not you don’t know or care. You’re alone, truly alone.

And once again you can’t cling onto the love you have for your kids, no matter how hard you want to, you can’t depend all your happiness on a little girl. How could you give her that burden?

So it means that your greatest fear came true, you’re alone at the end of the world, carrying the corpse of your happiness, half your soul, and surrounded by the fading debris of what used to be.

What can you do now but lay down on the cold ground beside Choso’s corpse and nuzzle against him like you would in the mornings when you were both just relaxing before starting your day. You drape your arm around him like you liked to do so you could keep him close and bask in his warmth. You rest your head on his chest as if you were listening to his heartbeat.

Your world is now so desolate that nothing matters. You’re not cold or in a hurry to help.

You don’t care—or try not to…But the truth is you’re terrified and in withering pain. And never in your life have you ever felt so alone like now.

“You’re such a liar,” you whisper as if he could hear you. “You lied to me. You swore and you lied.”

You should hate him, find happiness, and hate him for leaving you the way he did, but you can’t even fathom the thought. You’re too in love with him to ever hate him or the happy memories that will surely turn sour soon.

“Why did you have to leave me?” You demand to know from a corpse as you refuse to accept reality. “Why? I love you so much…I told you I would die for you…”

You trail off to wait for a response because you know he’d tell you to shut up about doing something stupid, but it was far from a lie, and it was romantic in your head.

Now you understand why that foolish man from that tragic story killed himself for the woman he loved. You understand his pain, and his desperation to see the one you love again so you won’t have to spend a second longer without them. You know now why he couldn’t fathom living on…

Because there’s nothing left. You’re all alone, and there’s nothing worse than that. Which is why you’ll do it.

You’ll die for the man you love.

“Because,” you swear to whatever bind that holds power in your world. “What does strength mean compared to living without you? What is pride when there’s nothing to be proud of in the wake of your loss that will always hurt me and feel like a fresh wound? I don’t want to drag on without you. So please,” you sob into his chest. “Bring him back, I don’t care if he’s a non-sorcerer, just bring him back…”

You’ll give it up, your strength and power that held you so above everyone else. You’ll live as the people you hated. You’ll love the kind of people you hated and scorned for what they couldn’t have just so you don’t live without him. You will leave behind the person you took so long to build to your image. You will die just so you can live on with him by your side until the day you die.

And it can be a few hours from now, you don’t care, you just want him back.

“Please,” you beg whatever force made up the binding vows. “Please.”

You slowly sit up to look at Choso’s face, or what was left of him, and beg with all your agony and might. “Please just come back. Please Choso.” You whisper breathlessly and lean down to whisper against his lips and plead one more time with all the might and sincerity you hold.

“Please come back as gentle and sweet, as caring and passionate, as funny and protective as you were.”

You close your eyes and press your lips against Choso’s one more time, unaware of the fate you sealed, and of the gift of life and death you gave from deep inside of your withered soul with a sweet kiss.

When silence follows to consume you once again, it soon gets disrupted, but this time it’s not you that fills it with sorrowful words, this time Shoko calls out your name, but you don’t bother to get up.

Not because you’re waiting to see if your fate is sealed, you just don’t get up because you don’t have the energy. You’re too numb.

“Honey, get up and let me take you both inside,” she speaks sweetly and with caution.

You stay quiet and still as if you were lifeless yourself, so Shoko decides to slowly walk to you while someone else decides to cut in now; someone younger and sweeter and who doesn’t smoke ten packs in an hour.

Kirara calls out for you and they’re much faster to reach you and actually attempt to see if you were alive, or dead like the man you’re cradling.

“You can be with him inside. Come on, I'll help you.” They offer.

You close your eyes and sigh shakily, letting more hot tears stream down your cheeks,

“Come on,” Kirara doesn’t plead with you, she grabs your arm but makes sure to caress it as she offers her comfort first. “I’m sure this is uncomfortable, and I’m sure you’re cold.”

If you get up you’ll see Kirara, you’ll welcome their comfort. You’ll see Shoko and appreciate her attempts at comforting you, but you’ll still be alone, you won’t see the one person who you’re aching to see in such a low time in your life, Satoru won’t be there to wrap you an embrace or silently sit with you to provide comfort in a way he knows how.

You’ll stand surrounded by people but be abandoned.

“No,” you say hoarsely and grab onto Choso’s body a little tighter. “I want to stay here with him, I’m waiting.”

You open your eyes and catch Kirara's worried glance they share with Shoko.

Yet even then Shoko doesn’t walk over, so Kirara pulls you up and to avoid actually being a nuisance you push yourself up, but never take your eyes off Choso’s corpse.

“You fought well,” Kirara praises you as they wrap a blanket around your shoulders. “You all did.”

“I’ll have someone carry him inside you’ve already overstrained yourself,” Shoko breaks her silence that you begin to find odd. You’re surprised she’s not by your side being as worried as Kirara, she's actually being rather pushy after you returned from fighting Kenjaku.

Maybe all this has just taken a toll on her…

“You’ve been outside too long you feel rather cold,” Kirara points out as they drag their feet with you as you move slowly as if doing so is wearing you down.

“Shoko,” you catch the woman off guard and slowly drag your eyes up, letting her see how red your eyes are from crying so much, and the beautiful tragedy scared on every detail of your face and only spread its roots deeper within you. She can especially see such tragedy in your eyes, it’s hard to miss just like the sudden change.

Once furious eyes blazing with mesmerizing and ferocious fire are losing their mark.

But how, she wonders. Is your grief really impacting you so hard that it’s taking a physical toll on you?

“Kirara let's walk her into my office, I want to check on her,” she tells them as if you’re not there—then again you kind of aren’t there.

“Yuji? Where is Yuji?” You finally express your concern.

Shoko meets your gaze but quickly averts it. “Still fighting,” she lets you know and doesn’t fully relieve you of that worry, but you’re relieved he’s still alive.

“Todo used his technique and brought you in,” Kirara trails on after Shoko.

Aoi?

You glance over at Kirara with worry and they don’t fail to quickly assure you as if they knew what you were going to ask. “He’s fine, he should be helping Itadori fight now, so don’t worry.”

You sigh with relief even if now you have a bigger knot in your stomach because Todo is fighting now too.

“Kinji?” You ask for a man you haven’t heard anything about, even though given the fact that he wasn’t out fighting Sukuna, or here now means he should still be fighting Uraume.

“He’s still fighting, just like you said he would,” Kirara tells you with hope still laced in her voice which makes you think how beautiful it is to hear before you reach Shoko and wonder why she’s having such a hard time meeting your eyes, or even being close to you.

“Shoko,” you call out softly to your best friend and have Kirara stop so you can reach for Shoko’s arm with the intent to ask if she’s okay, or if something else happened, but then just as you thought that this was the end of your world, another pair of footsteps echo towards you.

You don’t think anything of it, you don’t want to because you assume someone is coming to collect Choso’s body, but Shoko shifts her head away and you catch a glimpse of black shoes you recognize. Black shoes you recognized first not long ago.

Can it be?

No, it can't, he's…dead.

But…

You draw in a deep and trembling breath and slowly scale your eyes up the approaching figure, feeling your pulse quickly racing as you recognize those baggy white pants you once thought were too big to wear for a fight, and that tight black shirt that hugged him tightly.

As you reach his face you question your sanity. It has to be your grief, it can’t be who you think it is right across from you.

He’s dead. He…he…

Oh, but those eyes. They’re so unique and so kind. How can you mistake that lively gleam in his eyes that always accompanied him? How can you mistake those bright eyes that you called home, that you found comfort in when you were terrified and upset?

You can’t mistake the eyes of your beloved older brother. You can’t miss the fact that his chest is moving and that he blinks. You can’t mistake him for an illusion because he revives that hope you had just lost with the death of your most beloved.

You can’t mistake him because he’s standing right there in front of you amongst the silent wind, the distant and unwelcoming warmth, and under the dry sky.

“Satoru,” you muse blissfully.

A/N- WHAT IS THE WORST THING SHE CAN DO AFTER FINDING OUT ABOUT WHAT THEY DID WITH GOJOS BODY?

Tagged- @deniseabad1928 @secondary-character-25 @starlightanyaaa @notsaelty @d4rno @moonnime @kodzukein @yozora7154 @heijihattorisgf @elegantweirdorchest @natakina

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osunism · 2 months ago

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Daughter of Disgrace

"Is there any place where Heaven's bastard daughters are welcome?"

🔞 Rating: Explicit [MDNI] ❤️‍🔥 Pairing[s]: Satoru + Sundari || Nadja + Sukuna ⚠️ Warning[s]: Explicit sexual situations, graphic depictions of violence, major character death[s], as well as some toxic relationship elements. Spoilers for the manga. Sukuna is his own warning but there is cannibalism, abuse, body horror, and mild torture in this fic. So canon-typical violence. 🪧 Summary: In the aftermath of Satoru Gojo's sealing, Sundari must choose rebellion in order to free him. Lucky for them both, rebellion has always been her preferred modus operandi. 🎧 [ godslayer principle ] -- Sundari's Playlist

⚠️ Be Advised: This is the sequel to Beast of No Nation. It's recommended that you read that fic first to get the context of this one.

⛩️ AO3 𑁍 FFN 𑁍 Fic Masterlist 𑁍 Parallax OCs 𑁍 Sonder OCs 𑁍 HCs & Meta ⛩️

�� Chapter 12: In Every Lifetime

"An ending, a beginning, an ending, and a beginning. And so it goes; round and round; the great Wheel ever-spinning. The harmony of death and rebirth; sin and salvation; sacred and profane; poison and cure; disgrace and redemption; curse and blessing.The universe is a series of cycles; the most perfect math there is.

Who says our story must end here, my love?"

We all carry within us our places of exile, our crimes, and our ravages. But our task is not to unleash them on the world; it is to fight them in ourselves and in others. —Albert Camus

Yuji cups Sukuna’s remnants in his palm. A miasma of crimson smoke swirls above them. Two crimson eyes glare back at him, and half the remains of a mouth sneer in hatred. Yuji seems unbothered by even this last vestige of vitriol his uncle bears for him. In Sundari’s inverted domain, what they have come to understand is not divine mandate, but a Heavenly Summons, their souls are briefly connected, their memories bleeding into one another’s. For a brief instant, they are alive and dead all at once, and Sukuna sees the simplicity of Yuji’s life unfold before his mind’s eye, painful and warm and filled with all the things his own life lacked.

He sees his daughter’s ancient origins, from her birth amidst a clan of strong warrior women, to her ascension as a deified sorceress, protector of women and children, to her sealing after the terrible curse—his curse—finally found its fangs at the throats of the innocent; the painful fracturing of everything she was, the loss of all she knew. He sees too, the life she created for herself, a new version of her, still capable of strong, and ignorant of the cursed markings that give everyone pause. He sees memories of her dying her pink hair to jet black, a cloud of curls just like her damnable, beautiful, self-sacrificing mother. But, Sukuna notes with pride, Sundari’s face is all his: pride, insolence, and confidence in unfathomable spades.

Sundari and Yuji see Sukuna’s soul, fractured and made whole repeatedly over centuries, and the whole cursed story of him unravels itself in their minds, including Kenjaku’s scheme that led to Yuji’s conception. They see all his deeds laid bare, and they see his story with Nadja unravel: love and loss, over and over again, and his determination to find her across the centuries. They feel the terrible emptiness of his unanswered question: why did you leave me? Worst of all, they see Sukuna before he became the force of reckoning he is now. They see the coiled, frightened child with too many arms, eyes, and mouths, and too much power to be controlled. For all of his life, others have sought to control him, and Sukuna has never accepted anyone’s yoke.

At the core, they understand the hunger in him. Ravenous and all-consuming. Insatiable.

This is what happens when two domains do not clash…but overlap, two souls vying not for dominance, but harmony.

Yuji and Sundari’s souls hum on a similar frequency, a sustained note across time and space, heard and felt throughout Heaven and Earth.

“Sukuna,” Yuji’s voice sounds the way a gentle summer breeze feels, and two crimson eyes glare up at him, glittering with malice…and fear. Mortality has never pressed so closely to the King of Curses in all his days.

“Let’s try this again,” Yuji says, and there is a compassion in his tone that cuts deeper than any slash Sukuna has thrown.

“Let’s try living with each other, not to curse one another…”

Sukuna feels the curse in his guts, squirming and wriggling and burning.

“Even if no one accepts you…”

Stop it, brat. Stop it.

“I can live with you.”

Sundari is poised for the kill, but Yuji’s words give her pause and she regards him curiously. Even after all her father has done, all he has sought to do, Yuji still seeks to offer him the benediction of mercy? Sundari knows she should be angry—at the very least, offended—but she cannot find it in her heart to care. She feels scraped and raw and exhausted. She wants to end this cycle, to strip away her father’s curse and free the world of the burden that is him.

But she’s seen his memories, she’s seen what he was, and what he was forced to become.

“Don’t you dare try and play the compassionate card now, brat,” Sukuna sneers. “I am a curse, and you’d do well not to underestimate me.”

“You aren’t a curse, dad,” Sundari says, weariness coloring her voice, blood dripping from her nose. She doesn’t know how much longer she and Yuji can sustain this connection. “Just…you can literally try again. Maybe Yuji’s right: maybe there’s another way. Another path. Anything but more of…this.”

Sukuna’s gaze roils towards his daughter, taking in her appearance. The markings that once limned black into her brown skin are faded, almost more like birthmarks than tattoos. No matter what boon she has won from Heaven, she will bear his markings for all her days. That is how powerful his curse is.

You aren’t a curse.

I’m not a curse. I am cursed.

The realization reverberates through their shared connection, and all at once he gasps.

Sundari and Yuji are suddenly gone, as is the divine presence that had united them. He stands alone in the darkness, but the presence in the void is familiar. He’s been here before.

“Well, well, well,” a voice drawls, drawing his gaze downward. “Didn’t expect to ever see you here, of all people.”

Gojo Estate, Kyoto, December 30, 2018

In the aftermath, Sundari dreams. For once, she is uncertain if what she sees is memory or fabrication, but she pays attention. The visions are disjointed, always in media res as dreams are prone to being, but the recurring symbols and themes are there, and she does recognize some bits of her own memories in the patchwork film reel.

Sundari dreams, and Megumi stands in the darkness Sukuna has left behind, overcome by the sudden silence. He is once again alone with his own thoughts.

But everything is so fuzzy around the edges. His thoughts move with the ponderous, amorphous pace of a lava lamp’s contents, and somehow always just out of his reach. It takes him hours to figure out how to formulate his thoughts into the obvious conclusion: Unlimited Void. This is the ill effect of surviving five waves of Unlimited Void. His thoughts are disjointed and fractured, out of sync and hard to catch.

Ironically, he understands Gojo now more than ever.

His eyes open, and he hears himself gasp, fills his lungs with air, breathes of his own volition for the first time in weeks.

Sukuna is really gone, but Megumi can feel something knotted in his soul; furrows, like a claw marks. The separation should have killed him, but Sundari had a barrier active to protect him from sharing Sukuna’s fate.

Megumi hears himself panting as his thoughts come in a sudden rush, then stretch out again at that damnable pace.

“Fushiguro!” Yuji’s voice shatters the silence, and he sits up suddenly, startled all the way back into his body. His eyes take in the sight of Yuji, clad in his uniform, posing with a box.

Out of the box springs Nobara Kugisaki. Megumi’s eyes go wide. His mouth works but no words come. Kugisaki, sporting a black eyepatch embroidered with a hammer, nails, and rose crest, grins in triumph.

“Sorry I missed the party!” She boasts. “I was getting some much-needed beauty sleep! I heard it was a woman who saved the day!”

Yuji rolls his eyes. “Well, she’s my cousin…technically. Kind of.”

“Okay…are you ever…gonna explain that?” Megumi asks, frustrated with how slow his thought-to-speech reflexes have become. He imagines Gojo is having a good laugh at his expense about this. Megumi gets annoyed at the very thought.

“Look who finally decided to join the land of the living!” Gojo’s voice shatters the quiet, and Megumi becomes annoyed for real. But he’s also relieved to see his sensei alive and well. Gojo is grinning, sporting new scars to match Yuji’s own. Megumi touches his face, is relieved to not feel Sukuna’s features swimming under his skin like a parasite. He can feel the rugged scar tissue where Sukuna’s face had overlain his own. It will be some time before he can look in a mirror comfortably again. He catches Yuji’s gaze, and the boy’s brown eyes are soft with sympathy. If no one else understands, Yuji understands what it is like to be ridden by the curse that is—was—Sukuna.

Over the next few hours, Gojo and Yuji piece together the entire tale of mounting his rescue, from the moment he was taken, to when Sundari freed Gojo, to the final battle. Megumi remembers Nadja’s unexpected sacrifice in more ways than the others, and he looks away at the mention of her name. He had been present for Sukuna’s reunion with her, had born witness to their…relationship. He isn’t sure if Sukuna knew he was aware or if he simply did not care. He isn’t sure how he feels about it, only that he cannot find it in himself to hate Nadja for it. Whatever else there was, love had existed between those two, twisted as it was. And in the end, she’d chosen to save the person who could stop him.

Megumi wonders if Gojo was right about love being the most twisted curse. In the end, it had claimed Nadja and Sukuna both. He looks at Yuji again, wonders if…

“Where is Hikmat-san?” He asks. At the mention of Sundari, Yuji and Gojo exchange glances.

“She’s not awake yet,” Yuji says sadly. “After she dismissed her domain, she collapsed. Gojo-sensei brought her back here with you.”

Megumi looks down at his hands. He remembers being present when Sundari came back for Nadja’s remains. He remembers feeling Sukuna’s uncertainty. His fear. He was afraid of losing everything, including his life. But seeing his own daughter vowing to kill him had broken something in him. Megumi owes her a debt he can never hope to repay, but Sukuna has taken someone he loves as well.

“She’s going to be in recovery a while,” Gojo says in that easy way of his, as if he doesn’t doubt Sundari will be up and about in no time. “But she’ll bounce back. I know my girl.”

“Your girl, sensei?” Nobara asks, waggling her eyebrows. Gojo spreads his hands and sticks out his tongue.

“Yeah, and if I can convince her, she’ll be your sensei too when you bunch officially become third years.”

Yuji and Nobara look excited, their eyes sparkling. Megumi looks somewhat suspicious. He has a feeling there’s more to it than Gojo lets on, but he withholds his suspicions if only because his mind is still fuzzy, like moss has grown over the parts of his brain that are normally so quick to connect the dots. How long will this go on for, he wonders. He supposes he should count himself lucky this is the worst of the side effects.

He should be dead, after all.

Megumi is strong enough to walk on his own, and he dresses while Yuji and Nobara fill the emptiness with mindless chatter and Gojo looks on with a secretive smile, his eyes blindfolded once more. For a moment, it feels like old times. Megumi looks around for a calendar or clock. His phone’s been lost since Sukuna stole his body.

“How long has it been? Since everything happened?” Megumi asks. Gojo grins in a way that makes Megumi regret asking the question just as Nobara answers: “You missed Christmas!”

Yuji frowns and glares at Nobara. “So did you!”

Immediately, she and Yuji break into an argument about whether or not missing Christmas was more important than saving the world. Gojo’s grin softens into a fond smile, and whatever mischief he had planned for his own response is withheld for now.

Megumi does not get an answer to his question either way, and sighs.

By now, he has deduced that they are on the ancestral Gojo Estate, a place he hasn’t been to since he was a small boy still learning to harness his technique. Being trained by Gojo Satoru’s own tutors before matriculating to Jujutsu Tech had made him intimately familiar with the grounds.

He knows where to go, following Sundari’s cursed energy to another room. His classmates trail after him, still bickering, and Gojo walks behind them at a leisurely, long-legged pace.

It’s just like old times, it’s nothing like old times.

Megumi resists the urge to roll his eyes because of course Gojo put Sundari up in his old bedroom. She looked so exhausted, even in her comatose state. Megumi can’t help the stab of guilt that twists in his guts. Yuji places a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s not your fault,” he says, understanding as always. Megumi’s jaw tenses but he can’t ignore how comforting it is to have Yuji touch him again after having Sukuna put them at odds. “She’s gonna wake up soon.”

“Yeah,” Nobara says. “She can’t miss New Year’s!”

“What is it with you and holidays?” Yuji asks irritably. Nobara places her hands on her hips, fixing him with a stare.

“These are important milestones, and it makes sense that the woman who saved your sorry asses would be there to celebrate with us.”

Yuji wants to retort that none of that makes any sense and that it was a team effort that took down Sukuna, but Gojo is brushing past them because Sundari is waking up. They hear her groan tiredly—irritably—before she’s moving.

“Fuck me,” are the first words of the woman who saved the day. Nobara suppresses a snort of laughter, Megumi’s brows go up, and Yuji’s eyes go wide. Only Gojo seems unphased by Sundari’s choice of words.

“Morning, beautiful,” he says to her, and she squints up at him with all four of her eyes. Her pink curls are disheveled, sticking up in all directions, her skin is dry and a little sallow, and there are shadows under her eyes Megumi’s shikigami could hide in.

Satoru has never found her more beautiful because she’s still here. Alive.

“What fuckin’ year is it?” Sundari asks, rubbing her face with both hands and yawning. It’s only when she uncovers her face that she notices the trio of students crowding the doorway.

“Oh,” she says. “Sorry. Uh…come on in, kids!” She glares at Satoru, who is grinning. “What the fuck, man?” She mouths and he blows a kiss in response. Sundari does her best to fix her face as Yuji and Megumi join her. She takes a look at Megumi’s face, notes the scars in the places where her father’s face once was. He’ll bear those scars for all his days. She looks down at her hands, notes the scars of innumerable slash marks, like macabre tiger stripes. Also a mark from her father.

The tattoos are still there, black again, no longer faded. Whatever else she got from the boon she demanded, Heaven still sees fit to remind her of her origins. No matter, she will carry the scars and the ink with pride. Let the world see how Sukuna’s daughter treats with sorcerers.

You can prove them wrong.

Sundari looks at Yuji, who smiles at her, but there’s a blush in his cheeks that wasn’t there before.

Cousins. She wants to laugh. What the fuck was Kenjaku’s problem? Ah well, at least she can say she’s got some semblance of family left to her. Yuji isn’t so bad, after all.

“So,” she says. “I’d like to formally apologize for my dad being such a dick. Uh…Yuji, you’re still gross for just eating his Finger like that, but sorry for everything that came after. On the plus side, I got my memories and powers back. On the other plus side, my dad’s dead! Satoru, I’m starving…is there pizza?”

Satoru laughs despite himself. “Whatever you want, babe. I think Shoko’s going to be by later for a physical.”

Sundari swings her legs out of the bed and stands. She feels a slight rush that makes her momentarily lightheaded, and feels Satoru’s strong grip on her arm, steadying her. She meets his gaze, and they share a smile.

Nobara gags.

“I cannot believe Gojo-sensei got a girlfriend before I got a boyfriend,” she grouses. Yuji glares at her.

“How is that hard to believe? I had to watch you get your literal brains blown out!”

Nobara grins, her remaining eye glimmering. “I know. Wasn’t it fucking cool?”

Yuji makes a face. “It was horrifying! I thought you were dead!”

“As if some punk ass cursed spirit could drop me! I’m the Girl of Steel!”

The bickering begins anew, and Megumi lets out a long-suffering sigh. Sundari decides she likes Nobara immediately. Maybe she’ll consider Satoru’s not-so-subtle requests that she look into teaching.

“Gojo-sensei,” Megumi says. “Can I talk to you alone for a minute?”

Satoru presses a kiss to Sundari’s temple, giving her a gentle squeeze before excusing himself to the hall with Megumi. Satoru knows there’s a few things he owes to Megumi, but he’s surprised when the door shuts and Megumi immediately throws his arms around Satoru.

It startles both of them.

Satoru’s arms come up and he places them around Megumi with a gentle smile. Neither one of them question the moisture soaking his jacket as Megumi simply clings to him.

“I’m sorry, Megumi,” Satoru says, and means it. “When I took you in all those years ago, this wasn’t what I envisioned for you. I should have prepared you better, but none of us could have—”

“It’s fine,” Megumi mumbles, taking a deep, shuddering breath. It’s not fine. Not right now. It probably won’t be for some time. “I just…I thought I was going to lose everything I ever cared about. When he…”

There’s a lot.

Satoru pulls Megumi back to look at him.

“Do you want to talk about it right now? Are you ready to?” He asks, none of the usual playfulness in his voice. Megumi swallows, wipes his face hastily.

“No,” he says softly. “Not right now. It’s too…fresh. My thoughts are still jumbled. I just needed to see that you’re real is all. I thought…when Sukuna figured out how to bypass infinity…”

Satoru’s brows go up in surprise, a piece of the puzzle clicking into place. So that was why Nadja had intervened. She knew what Sukuna was using the Ten Shadows for. Satoru frowns. Why hadn’t she warned him ahead of time? Likely she counted on Sukuna wanting to counter her in the event of her betrayal. She had been playing against him, and Satoru had just been another piece on the board. No one had counted on her sacrificing her life to save Satoru. He remembers Sukuna’s shocked expression as Nadja countered his World Cutting Slash with her Executioner Blade. He remembers it shattering in her hands and seeing Sukuna’s technique broken in two. He’ll never forget that as long as he lives.

He wishes he could commend her. He decided he will tell Sundari where Sukuna’s half of Nadja’s ashes are kept, since her own urn was destroyed in the final battle.

“I’m the Strongest, remember?” He assures Megumi with a grin. Megumi doesn’t look convinced, and Satoru is worried about the state of his ward’s mind. He makes a note to hold Megumi back from missions until he’s been fully evaluated. And to ask if he still wants to be a sorcerer at all given all that has happened to him.

“Why did you take me in…all those years ago?” Megumi asks. “Was it because of my technique?”

Satoru hesitates. He’s been bracing himself for this conversation for a long time, but he hadn’t expected to survive his encounter with Sukuna. He’d had a letter prepared in case anything happened to him! Now he has to actually tell the whole gory story.

Damnit, Nadja.

“Well,” Satoru says. “It was your father’s dying wish, actually.”

Megumi’s eyes go wide. “What?”

Satoru chuckles, rubbing the back of his head. “It’s a funny story, in retrospect. A little ironic, really. Like I didn’t even know he had a kid, and then when I saw you it was like—well of course his kid would have fucking Ten Shadows, right?”

“Gojo! You’re rambling. What do you mean it was my father’s dying wish? You knew him?”

Satoru sighs. “Briefly, and it wasn’t a happy acquaintance. He tried to kill me, actually. Almost succeeded too. Look, one of these days I’m gonna sit you down and tell you the whole ugly story, and then you can summon Mahoraga or something and we can have it out, if you want.”

“You killed him, didn’t you?”

The words are like a guillotine blade, cutting all the life out of the small space between them. Satoru blinks, takes a deep breath, and slowly reanimates on his next exhale.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “I did. His final words were for me to keep you from being sold to the Zenins. From my understanding your dad was a gambling man, and his final bet was on you, Megumi.”

Megumi stares at Satoru, his expression caught in a crossroads of too many things to name. For much of his life, he assumed his father had simply sold him off and had been living a charmed life off the money these last few years. For much of his life, Gojo Satoru allowed him to believe this.

“I tried to tell you when we met,” Satoru says, as if reading his thoughts. “But you said you didn’t care to know what your dad was up to; I can respect that, and you’ve always known your own mind. I figured if you ever changed your mind, you’d ask. I admit my delivery of the news wasn’t the best. This isn’t much better. But the bottom line is he believed in you, Megumi. It’s the one thing he and I have in common.”

Megumi’s throat bobs in a heavy swallow, and he looks away.

“And then I got my entire body hijacked by Sukuna, killed my sister—”

“You didn’t kill her,” Satoru says sternly, eyes flashing like blue fire. “Sukuna killed her, and he did it deliberately to hurt you. That death is not on you.”

“You don’t know that!” Megumi says. “How could anyone know that?”

Satoru snorts. “Actually, there’s one guy I can say who does know that. His whole technique revolves around shit like this, actually.”

Megumi’s brow furrows and he makes the connection in his mind.

“Higuruma-sama? Yeah…he trapped Yuji in his domain once. Put him on trial.”

Satoru grins. “That’s him! He agreed to work as a sorcerer without question. He’s absolutely batshit, perfect for the job. Anyway, if you ever wanna know what you’re actually guilty of, just ask him to pull you into his domain. But be careful, if you’re guilty of something really bad, he’ll be obligated to kill you.”

“What? Why would you tell me that?”

Satoru rolls his eyes. “Because you’re blaming yourself for shit that wasn’t your fault, Megumi. And since you won’t believe me—your gorgeous, twice-blessed sensei—when I tell you you’re good, then I guess we can see if Higuruma has to, you know…” Satoru makes a quick slicing motion across his neck. Megumi stares at him impassively.

“Never mind,” Satoru says. “You aren’t…you’re taking this remarkably well.”

Megumi’s gaze is distant, as if he’s looking into the past and a soft smile crosses his face.

Hey kid…what’s your name?

Fushiguro.

Not Zenin? I’m so glad.

“What?” Satoru asks. “Don’t keep me in suspense, kid.”

Megumi blinks like a waking dreamer and meets Satoru’s gaze.

“Nothing, just remembering something from Shibuya, is all.” he says with a secretive smile. Satoru smiles back. He knows all about nothing. Satoru’s smile fades in the next instant, however.

“Wait, why Shibuya? Megumi, I can’t even mention Shibuya without three sorcerers cowering in a corner in tears over it. Why are you smiling about that?”

Over the next several weeks, they piece together the massive puzzle of chaos left in the wake of Sukuna’s devastation, and Kenjaku’s schemes. Sundari learns from the memories she and Yuji shared with Sukuna that Sukuna devoured Tengen whole and absorbed her into himself. As a result, his remains must be preserved in order to maintain the barriers Tengen has been strengthening and maintaining for countless centuries.

Sundari also knows that Tengen is partially responsible for what Sukuna became. She and Yuji discuss it in private, agreeing to only share the knowledge they’ve gleaned from Sukuna’s memories with Satoru. It means a major power imbalance in favor of the Gojo Clan, but better them than Kamo. There’s also the dilemma of Choso, who bears the Kamo clan’s hereditary technique, but being what he is, will never ever be formally recognized by the clan. Yuji and Sundari take Choso in without question. The Kamo Clan raises no fuss about it, so long as the abomination of their clan’s shame makes no claims for power. Choso himself has no interest in clan politics, preferring to remain with his younger brother, Yuji, who continues his training in the art of Blood Manipulation in earnest.

Sundari decides she will unpack the strangeness of their family tree at a later date. That Yuji hasn’t freaked out about a single reveal is a testament to his steely nerves, but Sundari thinks it’s because Yuji prefers a more simplistic view on his life and doesn’t overthink the minutiae. Sundari, however, has a millennium of experience under her belt and still nothing has floored her quite like the revelation of her father’s side of the family. Yeah, Sundari tucks that away for later…maybe they’ll recruit a jujutsu therapist they can all talk to one day.

Aside, there is still the matter of the higher ups being decimated. No one knows who is responsible, and yet there can be no other answer. But who will dare come forward to accuse the Honored One, who is responsible for Sukuna’s defeat and helping return balance back to jujutsu society?

Sundari has to commend Satoru for his political cunning. He’s consolidated enough power to execute his dream bloodlessly, but that still leaves the problem of jujutsu sorcerers being short staffed year-round.

There are still curse users out there, and a missing armory from the Zenin Estate that no doubt is finding its way to the black market for exorbitant prices. The work of a sorcerer is unending, and Sundari joins Satoru on his investigations and missions, acclimating to life as a modern-day powerhouse, feared, scorned, and respected all at once.

So it goes, round and round.

Time seemed to slip through their fingers like water. The work of fixing Tokyo, of chasing curses new and old, of rebuilding the parts of Tokyo ruined by Sukuna alone…it is exhausting, and it is bitter. But it must get done. Even Nanami, injured as he is, finds a way to contribute in other ways, lending his expertise to the less experienced sorcerers, ensuring they have what it takes to survive in a field as chaotic as this one.

Little by little, jujutsu society finds a way to limp back to life.

And Satoru finally does the one thing he has been wanting to do since before this whole mess began: he buries Suguru.

Once, he might have seen to this task alone, but he calls Shoko, tells her his intentions, and she meets him at the chosen location without any questions asked.

Watching Suguru’s pyre burn feels like he is burning an old version of himself. Satoru cannot quantify what this moment will mean when he looks back on it later on in his life, when the grievous wounds have finally been balmed to oily scar tissue. He just knows that the version of him that loved a version of Suguru that died long before his body, no longer exists. As Suguru’s remains burn, and he and Shoko pick the bones from the ashes and place the ashes in an urn, Satoru lets himself weep for the first time.

Shoko watches the strongest sorcerer alive curl up and weep, and she takes him in her arms and lets him. Satoru weeps for all that he has lost, all that was denied him, and all that Suguru could never become because his Six Eyes couldn’t tell him what was wrong before it was too late. He weeps and mourns at last—at long last—and purges his heart of everything. Suguru should have been here. This dream was because of him, and he should have been here. But Satoru knows he must let that regret go too, if he wants to succeed at all, he has to let it go. And after a while, the tears run dry, and his body feels soft and pliant in Shoko’s embrace. He sees the silent trail of tears down her cheeks and knows that they both needed to be here for this.

It feels like a chapter being closed for both of them, and an unspoken apology for their own culpability in the wounds both of them bear from it.

But there is no more room for guilt and self-flagellation.

Satoru gives himself three days of quiet reflection in the aftermath, running the gamut of grief in all its ugliness and beauty and catharsis, and then he returns to the searing present. He returns to the realization of his dream.

He finds his phone, sends a text to Sundari.

Satoru resists the urge to point out the joke about too many appendages and organs, considering Sundari’s appearance. If he intends to get any affection tonight, he must behave. He still laughs, though.

Satoru smiles to himself at her reply. It’s sweet of her, really, to give him space to grieve. Still, funnel cake sounds good, and he misses her. With everything returning to some semblance of normalcy, Sundari returned to her apartment, which didn’t surprise him in the least that it’s in Ginza. He makes a note to tease her about it later. Apparently, Nadja left everything to Sundari in her living will should anything happen to her. Satoru finds that ironic, as well. Still, it’s left Sundari nearly as wealthy—if not wealthier—than he is.

Satoru considers it. He likes her apartment. It’s a quaint, earthy place with a vibe that reminds him of a rainforest in the middle of the city. Sundari keeps so much green, growing stuff in her home that the very air feels different.

Satoru can already hear Sundari’s laughter in his head.

Satoru is glad no one is around to hear his veritable squeal of glee. He needs to tell Nanami to get a girlfriend or boyfriend or whatever he’s into. Having one is actually amazing. He wastes no time, packing a bag and taking a cab to Sundari’s mid-rise apartment building. It’s an older building in a more solid style, and far more spacious than newer buildings tend to be. Satoru can make out her balcony, crawling with pothos and wisteria. Smirking and glancing around, he teleports into the air, floating over her balcony railing. Sundari just happens to be walking by when she spots him. Satoru grins when he sees her four eyes go wide, and she lets out a startled shriek before calming down to let him in.

“What is your fucking problem?” She demands, but there’s no heat in her tone. Satoru closes the distance between them, wrapping her in his embrace and kissing her soundly.

Sundari forgets his unorthodox entrance in favor of the kissing. By the time Satoru pulls away, his cheeks and hers are flushed, both of them heavy-lidded and half-drunk from the contact.

“Oh,” Sundari sighs, a drunken smile slipping onto her face before she lets out an involuntary giggle. Satoru grins. It pleases him that he can fluster her and make her soft when the rest of the world must experience her so harshly.

“You hungry?” Sundari asks. “I can order something or cook.”

“I came here to eat you,” Satoru says easily as he removes his shoes before entering the apartment proper. Sundari glances at him with a smirk over her shoulder. She doesn’t fluster from his declaration, not after everything they’ve been through, and she doesn’t take his desire for granted.

“Is that why you’re here, pretty boy?” She asks in that tone that makes Satoru shiver and smile. Yes, he’s her pretty boy. He wants to be her pretty boy. Hers and hers alone.

“Yeah,” he says and without warning, he activates his technique. Sundari yelps as she’s suddenly drawn to him by an unseen force. Satoru catches her in his arms, and then he’s kissing her again, this time leaving his marks on her jawline and neck, breathing in deeply to imprint her scent on his very soul. Sundari makes small noises of pleasure, letting out a whimper when she feels the soft, wet muscle of his tongue trace patterns on her neck, tasting the salt of her skin.

“I missed you,” Satoru murmurs into her skin. “I’m so happy I found you.”

Sundari doesn’t know why her eyes suddenly sting with the threat of tears, and she has to catch her breath and blink several times.

“I missed you too, Toru,” she whispers, and then lifts his head to look at him, staring into the pieces of Heaven he calls his eyes. “And I’m happy you found me too. More than.”

It’s simple physics after that.

Satoru and Sundari make their way to the bedroom, stripping as they go. She loves getting him out of his teacher’s uniform at the end of the day, and Satoru loves undressing her in general. Sometimes what she wears leaves little to the imagination [which he appreciates], but tonight she’s clad in clothes for lounging: a pair of pajama shorts and a tank top that has clearly seen too many wash cycles. Satoru helps her out of all of it, until she’s bare and laying back against the pillows on her bed, looking like some goddess out of a myth.

As far as Satoru’s concerned, she might as well be. His goddess, at any rate. And he will pray to her in a way that only he can.

For a moment, they take one another in, blissfully naked. There’s no skylight above Sundari’s bed, but there is a lantern that throws mandala patterns against the walls, dancing through the leaves of her massive monstera that crawls across her ceiling, making everything look wild and erotic and dreamlike. Satoru reaches out, traces the cursed markings on her body: the concentric rings on her strong shoulders; the black bands on her arms, wrists, thighs, and ankles; the ones on her face; the ones on her chest, following the swell of her high and proud breasts. He grins when she gasps as his thumb and forefinger capture and roll a nipple between them. He watches her legs part a little, eager. His eyes drift down, catch the sight of the mandala pattern illuminating the slick on her inner thighs, dripping from her cunt.

His eyes travel back up to her face, framed by blush-pink curls. Four ruby eyes gaze back, guileless and expectant.

“You are so fucking beautiful, Sundari,” Satoru whispers reverently. “I could look at you forever.”

Sundari’s cheeks bloom with heat and she bites her lip, suddenly feeling bashful. She knows she is beautiful, but it makes her stomach go into freefall whenever Satoru tells her. Her heart flutters in her chest.

“You’re beautiful too,” she whispers, holding out a hand and beckoning him closer. Satoru goes to her, crawling between her spread legs, his cock hard and heavy between his thighs. Sundari’s hand lowers, her fingers wrapping around it and making Satoru hiss in surprise and then pleasure as she swipes her thumb over the head, smearing the droplets of his seed forming at the tip.

“My pretty boy,” she whispers, her voice husky with desire. Satoru leans in, makes a whining sound as she squeezes his cock and nips his glossy, pink lips. “Mine.”

“Yours,” Satoru says in a rush of breath as she strokes his cock with the tender firmness of one who knows he’s hers. It’s true, and his fingers curl into the sheets as he fights the pressure building in the base of his spine.

“Sundari…” Her name comes out as a strained and hoarse gasp. Sundari smiles at him knowingly, and he sees the tender cruelty in it.

“Yes, baby?” She asks, slowing her stroking. Satoru’s hips thrust involuntarily, seeking more of it. He wants to be inside of her—needs it, actually. He wants to envelop himself in the tight, wet confines of her cunt and never leave. He wants to fuck her until she dissolves like spun sugar in his mouth.

“Oh?” Sundari’s smile becomes a grin. “Is that what you want, pretty boy?”

Fuck. Had he said all that shit out loud?

Satoru is silent for a moment, his cock hard as stone in her hand. He’s not the strongest sorcerer for nothing.

“Yeah,” he says, his tone suddenly harder than before. “I do.”

The equation between them shifts as Sundari’s eyes light up in excitement and Satoru pounces on her before she can react to the shift in the air between them. They struggle for dominance, of course, mindful of their strength for the sake of the bed itself rather than one another. Satoru still thinks fondly of the crater left by their coupling in his yard.

This is different, though. There is no adrenaline from battle to fuel them: only the need and want for one another.

And love too.

Satoru is so sure this is love because he has tried being without her and he can’t.

Don’t leave me baby, I just found you.

Eventually, Satoru pins Sundari, grasping her legs to place over his shoulders. He pushes her legs back, exposing her cunt, which opens like a beautiful flower, petals glistening and dripping with dew for his mouth.

Satoru grins, his eyes glowing in the dim light, and spits directly into her pussy.

Sundari moans and writhes in response at the obscenity of it all, and then Satoru leans down and meets her dripping cunt in an open-mouthed kiss. He does as he said he would: he eats her. Satoru’s jaw will ache, his tongue will ache, but Sundari will be thoroughly and unerringly sated. He makes sure of it.

His lips wrap around her clit, sucking hard, moaning as if she is the best meal he’s had in ages. Sundari reaches for him, legs spread, and his hands find hers, linking their fingers while he gets lost in the slippery, wet heat of her, eyes closed in private bliss.

“Ngh…Satoru…” She moans and he makes an inquisitive sound, looking up at her through heavy-lidded cerulean eyes, glowing brighter than a galaxy’s heart. Sundari keeps moaning his name, dragging out the vowels and hissing out the consonants as he works her clit until tears spring to her eyes and she’s panting and flushed and quivering with the desperate need for release.

He pulls away just before she can come, and she lets out a frustrated sound.

“No,” he says, his voice hoarse; chin, cheeks, and lips glistening with her juices. “No, baby. I want you to come on my cock. I want to feel this pretty pussy squeezing me when you lose your mind.”

Sundari, so desperate to climax, nods and agrees. Satoru leans up, sitting back on his heels and dragging her by the hips into his lap, keeping her comfortably laying on the bed. His cock seems eager too, straining and hot against her went cunt. Satoru bites his lip before reaching down to grasp his cock in one fist, stroking himself before pushing the head inside of her. Just the tip.

“Satoru!” Sundari hisses, and her eyes flash dangerously even as he rewards her with a smug smirk, teasing her by sliding the head of his cock up and down her slit.

“Yeah?” He breathes. “Just testing the waters, baby, don’t worry.”

And then he slips inside of her, relishing the guttural moan that spirals up from her as he sinks down to the hilt inside of her. For a moment he holds her hips, and it very still. He looks down at where they’re joined, the soft white hairs of his pubes rubbing against her clit and making her shiver. He bites his lip again when he feels her walls constrict around him. He’d almost forgotten about her conscious muscle control. But he’s ready, this time.

“Mmm,” Satoru groans, tightening his grip on her thighs. “Ask nicely, Sundari.”

Four crimson eyes narrow at him, and he rewards her with a blade-ready smirk, eyes flashing like stars in the dusky twilight of her bedroom.

“You come into my home to make me beg?” She demands, moaning in frustration and indignation and pleasure alike as Satoru moves his hips just so, giving her just enough friction to make her pulse leap in her veins, but stopping just short of satisfaction. He can do this all damn night. He can do this until the world crumbles to dust.

“No,” Satoru says. “I came into your home to make you come, but I want you to ask me, Sundari. I want you to ask me to make you come.”

Sundari glares up at him and Satoru can’t help it: he laughs. She looks so much like Sukuna, down to the way her nose wrinkles to show her displeasure. Sundari bares her fangs.

“Something funny, Six Eyes?” She growls, and Satoru feels her strength returning, legs pushing against his grip as her ankles lock behind his back. He’s still buried nine inches inside of her, but the way she’s focused you wouldn’t know it. Satoru reaches down, makes her watch as he swipes a thumb against her swollen clit.

Sundari lets out a choked sound, her control momentarily slipping. Satoru teases her clit with light, tight circles, and her eyelids flutter. The lower ones even close.

“That’s it,” Satoru purrs, watching her as he feels her pussy grow wetter around him with each stroke against her clit. He contemplates making her come without having to move his hips, but he craves movement as much as she does. It’s a contest of wills at this point, and unlike battles involving jujutsu, the flesh is far less durable during sex. He can only stem the tide of his own climax for so long.

“S-Satoru…” Sundari’s voice comes out as a stammering whimper, and she pulls with her crossed legs, trying to force him to start moving. He sits there, stroking her clit idly, and there’s an almost cold wintery expression on his face, as if he’s the god and she’s the supplicant.

The Honored One grins as his goddess opens her mouth and begins to beg him.

The words come first as a stammering trickle, then a sultry, moaning torrent. She begs him and as she does, he increases the pace of his stroking thumb, spreading her slick over her clit, noting with pleasure when he sees his cock glistening with her fluids in the soft, golden light.

“Come for me,” he murmurs and Sundari does. Satoru hisses as her walls flutter around him, and he holds her steady, stroking her clit through the orgasm that has her writhing and calling his name. It’s only when she’s about to settle down that Satoru gives in and begins to move his hips. He has been nice enough, and his goddess is strong. He fucks her.

Sundari’s hands claw for purchase, one fisted in the sheets, the other going to her headboard to grip it tightly or risk getting her head knocked through the wall. Satoru doesn’t give her time to adjust because he’s indulged her pleasure. It’s his turn to chase that glittering edge, and he wants her to take it. God, she has done so much in the short time since her unsealing, he just needs her to take his cock right now.

For a long stretch of time there is only the sound of Sundari’s short staccato gasps, Satoru’s labored groans, and the heavy, wet sound of skin meeting skin as Satoru attempts to nail her to the mattress. Sundari can’t think straight, and she knows that’s exactly how he likes it, gripping her hips and lifting her halfway off the bed to pull her along his cock. She throws her head back, screaming his name, begging him not to stop, begging him to come inside of her.

Satoru plans to grant all of these requests in due time, but right now he wants her in every way he can have her. He stops his rhythm to pull her up. Without needing to be told, Sundari tangles her limbs around him: four arms pull him close and together they situate themselves into the Lotus position, face to face, heart to heart, body to body.

“Hey you,” Satoru murmurs, nipping her lower lip with a smile. Sundari meets his gaze with heavy-lidded eyes, the concentric circles within them swirling. The curse she carries is gone, but the brand of her lineage remains. She is terrifying and beautiful and wild and he lovesherlovesherlovesher.

“Hey you,” she replies, her voice sultry and husky.

This time, they move as one, surging with one another’s breaths, cresting and falling into the troughs of one another’s respective rhythm, and finding harmony. Somehow the pleasure is insurmountable this way, and both of them become exceedingly aware that this is different.

“Satoru…” Sundari breathes, and she can’t seem to fill her lungs fast enough as she clings tightly to him, nails scraping his back as she moves. “Satoru…I…”

“I know, baby, I know,” Satoru murmurs, kissing her tenderly, open-mouthed and saturated, wanting to share her very breath in this moment. “I feel it too.”

That bright and terrible presence from her domain inversion is watching them. The universe itself is sanctioning this union, and by doing so, redressing an imbalance for which their stars were written.

The pleasure is beyond flesh, now. Sundari moves her body without thought and Satoru maps the contours of her back with his hands, sliding them up and up against her. He chants her name, kissing her temple, her cheeks, her neck, and taking her earlobe between his teeth just to feel her shiver in delight.

In this space there are no demands made of the other, no commands, and no roles. There’s only the frequency of pleasure they have found, reverberating through both their souls like some primordial note sung long ago, and sustained through every cosmic union so heavily soaked in fate and destiny.

When Satoru comes, he realizes that this is exactly how he felt when he was on the edge of death twelve years prior. And Sundari tumbles after him, clinging to him tightly as their thoughts and their very souls seem to touch like two exposed wires, sending sparks to spangling in their blood.

The bright presence recedes like an ancient wave, and as they return to the skin and bone of their bodies, sweat-slick and panting, they realize that the only presence in the room now is their own.

“Holy shit…” Satoru breathes, burying his face in Sundari’s neck. “That was…I think that’s the best sex I’ve ever had in my fucking life.”

Sundari smirks, turning her head to nuzzle him with an almost feral purr.

“Yeah,” Sundari agrees, her voice quiet and mystified. “Same. Do you think…what did it mean?”

Satoru raises his head, his eyes swirling with a steady rotation of what Sundari swears are clouds this close. She blinks before the side-effects can start setting in: dizziness, vertigo, and dissociation. Satoru explained it like microdosing Unlimited Void.

“I have a theory, but let’s talk about it in the morning. Tonight is for fucking.”

Sundari’s laughter rings in the air like temple bells.

Winter gives way to the tentative thaw of early spring. Most of the curses have been cleaned up, and Tokyo is almost back to her old self: hustling, bustling, busy, busy, busy. The rhythm of the city returns, and sorcerers resume their work of managing the cursed energy of an entire people. There are changes, however.

The pay is better, for one. Satoru consulted with Mei Mei for that particular bit, and called a meeting of the clan heads, large and small, as well as elders in the community, and representatives of independent factions in order to oversee the drawing up of a new charter. It took several months, and there was dissent, but the basis of the new charter was laid, and Satoru sees part of his dream brought into reality. Just like infinity.

Satoru’s snide remarks to Gakuganji the previous summer turned out to not be in jest or even in spite: his birth did herald a shift in the jujutsu world, and the biggest change is the number of sorcerers being born and those recently awakened to their abilities. Satoru helps delegate the task of assessing these new sorcerers and offering them a chance to study at Jujutsu Tech. He has been consulting with his colleagues and they came to the agreement that they can no longer feasibly pull only from high school aged students, especially since Kenjaku’s awakened sorcerers need guidance.

Thus, Jujutsu Tech becomes open to all sorcerers for study, regardless of background or nationality. Satoru knows the biggest blind spot they had with regards to Kenjaku’s scheme was their obsession with secrecy, even from one another. He vows not to make such a mistake again.

The changes are met with varying degrees of excitement and disdain. The students currently enrolled are thrilled to welcome more classmates, and sorcerers working for Jujutsu Headquarters begrudgingly welcome the extra hands.

Despite all this, it is Sundari’s presence that polarizes jujutsu society. Sundari herself has known that it would be this way, but when she receives the first, crisp press of her new Jujutsu Tech instructor uniform, she knows that Satoru has fought a hard battle to approve her for training.

The uniform itself is splendid: all black, of course, a tailor-cut jacket, with the gold swirl buttons representing Jujutsu Tech, a black mock-neck sleeveless top, and a black form-fitting mid-length skirt, slit up both sides for ease of movement. Her choice of footwear is a pair of black, platform boots. Sundari notes that the jacket itself has the trishula symbol embroidered in red on the back, to match the marking that adorn her and Sukuna’s brow. She smirks, knowing that it was Satoru who likely had a hand in that particular design choice.

These don’t have to be a curse.

Sundari observes herself in the mirror with a hint of pride. Her pink curls are styled into two puffs atop her head, and she blinks all four of her eyes and for a moment she thinks she sees her father’s reflection instead of her own. She traces her face markings, and then smiles.

“Well dad,” she murmurs to herself. “Here’s to a better way.”

Sugisawa Municipal High School, Sendai City, April 4, 2019

The sun is shining when the car winds through the hills toward Yuji’s former high school. Ijichi is silent but occasionally glances at Yuji and Sundari, who sit in the back seat, each peering out their respective windows. The radio is turned to a news station, and they listen with half an ear as reports of Tokyo’s continued recovery from the Culling Games. Of all the barriers that had trapped players inside, Sendai’s region had been the most violent, and the scars of that war—invisible to non-sorcerers—are clear as day as they pull up to the high school.

“Are you sure about this?” Ijichi asks as they step out of the car. Yuji and Sundari share a look, and Yuji nods.

“It’ll be fine, Ijichi-san,” Yuji says brightly with his characteristic grin. The scars of Sukuna’s domain are faded, leaving only the slash he received from Mahito, and the scar at the corner of his mouth. Sundari’s own scars from Malevolent Shrine are faint, looking more like tiger stripes than anything else, and nothing can compete with the stark black lines of cursed ink.

“Alright, I’ll defer to your judgement, Itadori-kun, Hikmat-san,” Ijichi executes a perfunctory and crisp bow. “I’ll be here when you’re ready to go.”

Yuji and Sundari head toward the school. Since the Culling Games Sendai has been quieter, mostly because the residents are still frightened of the curses that sprung up over the winter like mold. Sundari’s cursed presence alone is enough to send any lesser curses scattering. They are like shy animals, crowding up against the borders of humanity, eager to taste the very people who feed their existence.

They cross onto the football field and Sundari’s brows furrow.

“Is there a dead body buried out here or something?” She asks. Yuji glances at her, eyes wide.

“Wait, so the rumors were true?!” He asks back. Sundari blinks several times, staring at him. She decides not to press the matter further as Yuji leads her to the Stevenson screen further outside of the football field’s endzone. Yuji fishes an ornate, silk-wrapped box from his pocket. The inside is lined with red silk, and sitting there is a mummified finger belonging to Sundari’s father…and Yuji’s uncle.

“And we’re sure this is the last one?” Sundari asks. Yuji gives her a knowing look.

“Yeah!” He says. “Since he can’t come back through the Fingers anymore, the energy can ward off evil. A good talisman, don’t you think?”

Sundari looks down at the box, and it’s not lost on her that both her parents have been reduced to such small talismans. Her mother’s ashes sit on her dresser, and her father’s remaining Finger will now ward off evil. She makes a mental note to come back and see about purifying the energy of this place because she is pretty sure there’s a dead body buried around here.

Yuji places the box within the screen and shuts the door. Both he and Sundari press their palms together in prayer. For a moment the air is charged with the scent of burnt ozone or burnt sugar. Their cursed energy blooms like a lotus in tandem, the power of their jujutsu sealing the deal, as it were.

When it is done, the air seems to return to normal, and the sun shines a little brighter. Sundari feels as if her heart is lighter, and there’s a warm feeling in her chest. She bites her lip as tears prick her vision. She never thought she’d feel a modicum of anything for her father. He’d been nothing short of horrible to her in the brief time she knew him.

And yet…

He’d loved her mother once. Loved her enough to beg for Sundari’s existence. Loved her enough to stay his hand from killing her. Loved her enough to call Sundari’s existence a miracle.

Maybe he’d loved Sundari a little bit too.

“Hey,” Yuji says, glancing at her. “You okay?”

Sundari blinks away the tears and nods.

“Yeah…just…taking in the moment. Thanks for doing this, Yuji. It was a brilliant suggestion.” She smiles at him, and he beams with pride, and for a moment he doesn’t look like a war-scarred sorcerer. Just a boy of sixteen with a strange family tree and a new lease on life. Sundari turns away from the Stevenson screen, away from the last vestige of her father.

“Let’s go,” she says. “I promised Satoru I’d grab some kikufuku for him on our way back. And I’ve apparently got more teacher training.”

Yuji and Sundari walk back across the football field, back toward Ijichi and the car, chatting about what kind of kikufuku to get, and Yuji offers to show Sundari around Sendai, claiming he’d already given Sukuna a tour, but he wasn’t as excited about it. Their voices fade across the field as the sun crawls across the sky, its light shifting the shadows in the trees.

Unnamed Shore, Unnamed Time

“Well, well. What’s this, our second conversation?”

Sukuna stares down at the cursed spirit, who leers up at him with that oil-slick grin and mismatched eyes.

“Something like that,” Mahito says, recalling that none of the so-called “conversations” had been pleasant ones. He stands to his full height, but even that is nothing compared to the overwhelming height of the King of Curses. “My ability has to do with reshaping the soul, so I guess it makes sense that I wound up in this place.” But something about Sukuna is different…

“Hey,” he says. Fuck it, there’s not much the King of Curses can do to him in this place. Sukuna raises his brow in response. “Something I meant to ask you. You were lying before, weren’t you? About living according to your nature. You weren’t acting in accordance with your nature at all, were you? You were taking vengeance for what was done to you.”

Sukuna stares at the cursed spirit and for a moment Mahito thinks he’s fucked up again.

Instead, Sukuna lets out a laugh that sounds almost amused and self-assured.

“What difference does it make?” He asks. “I lived how I knew how to go on. I…” He thinks, shuts his eyes a moment, remembering. “Well, not entirely true. I was afraid my own curse would burn me up, so I could only spit out the curses writhing in my guts. I had two paths open to me, and I chose.”

He doesn’t need to look to feel the familiar chill of Uraume by his side. They are quiet, eyes downcast, but Sukuna can see the tears glimmering on their cheeks. He places an arm around them, giving their slight shoulders an affectionate squeeze. The shiver that runs through them is one of relief and despair. Sukuna looks away from them, his eyes searching.

“Looking for her?” Mahito asks, his tone taunting. Sukuna’s crimson gaze cuts to the cursed spirit sharply for a moment, questioning without a word. Mahito wonders how far he can press his luck before Sukuna makes good to kill him once and for all.

“She passed through here not too long ago, we chatted for a bit,” Mahito places a finger on his lips. “Unfortunately, I don’t think her bosses took kindly to her loitering. She’s mortal now, after all. Can’t be caught holding up the cycle!”

Sukuna’s expression hardens, and the wheels of his mind turn quickly. Where was she, then? If she passed through this place, then her soul must already be on its way to rebirth.

Two choices.

In every lifetime, I will probably love you.

Sukuna shuts his eyes.

“I see,” he says quietly. “Then if there is a next time, I think it would be nice to walk a different path.”

“Do you think you’ll find her?” Mahito asks, grinning his malicious grin. Sukuna does not spare the curse a second glance as he takes Uraume’s hand and begins to walk, toward the darkness, toward the light.

“You’ve gone soft, old bastard!” Mahito grouses. “Chasing after love! Blegh!”

Sukuna laughs. “Of course I have,” he says. “I lost, after all.”

Uraume looks up at Sukuna, a rare breach of their unspoken decorum, a question writ in their lilac gaze.

“We’ll find her,” Sukuna says. “No matter how many times the Wheel spins, she was made for me. We’ll find her.”

Fin. Masterpost 𑁍 Previous Chapter

Author's Final Note: So, here we are at the end of a journey. I don't know if anyone is out there, silently reading my words and bobbing their head to the playlists, but to everyone putting eyes on this story and ears on the soundtrack: thank you! And to the folks who have been commenting on the chapters, or sharing my stories in the fandom: thank you! What initially began as a thought experiment of "what if Sukuna had a daughter with an immortal" became so much more, and I'd like to thank Gege Akutami for giving us Jujutsu Kaisen. I really haven't been this inspired to write for fandom for almost a decade, and I decided to check out this manga/anime and I've been obsessed ever since. It makes me so happy to write stories in such a fascinating world with such intriguing and fun characters.

Even though the manga is over, I'm holding out for an amazing anime adaptation going forward, and JJK is honestly a classic for me that I know I'll love revisiting it for years to come. I have other fanfic for JJK for those of you who are down to hangout at the Parallax Afterparty where I'll be posting stray stories, scenes that didn't leave the cutting room floor, character studies, and other cool lore that doesn't fit into the fics! Or, if you're really fucking with my galaxy-brain OC x Canon agenda, head on over to Lost Worlds & Endless Nights for the Parallax AUs. Or if you want different leads in other universes, head over to my series Sonder! I don't intend to leave the fandom, so for any holdouts: come get ya fanfic, here, hot off the presses! I'll be churning out these puppies for at least another six months to a year.

Again: thanks for reading. Talk to me in the comments or come holler at me on my other socials [if you got 'em] if you've got questions or wanna yell or whatever.

𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍 Muse 𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍

© 2024 Hajara Asiri. Do NOT copy, translate, plagiarize, repost anywhere without permission [reblogging posts is okay]. This includes copying my masterlist format or feeding ANY of my writing to the uninspired AI garbage machines. I only upload on Tumblr, AO3, and FFN. Title and footer banners by me. Dividers and support by @cafekitsune.

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