Jogo left the alley without looking back. The smoke of the burning carcass had already begun to thin, and the heat was dispersing into the night air.
His eye was narrowed as he stepped over the body, his cane rhythmically tapping against the ground with every step.
The ragged and panicked breathing of the Woman behind him was ignored as he simply left her to her devices and returned to his aimless walk.
'A society made of Heroes and Villains.'
Jogo adjusted his earplugs as he walked, feeling the steam escape his ears.
His aimless walk soon brought him past a small convenience store, in which roamed a few Humans. Among them, was a man with Horns and animalistic traits, yet here he was, hanging around Humans. They laughed and talked in a tired fashion, something that Jogo found himself staring at for a moment.
There was no malice. No fear. Simple comradery.
'Hanami... Dagon...'
The memory of his... comrades? No. That wasn't right. Was it?
'My... friends...?'
The thought was foreign. No, it felt downright wrong. He was a Curse! They were his comrades in common cause, but nothing more! Nothing... more...
The Curse felt his irritation bubble up but he restrained himself. The memory of Dagon and Hanami flashed in his head... especially Hanami.
'The Human girl in the Alley... She had a flower on her shoulder too.'
It had taken him aback upon noticing it. So badly in fact, that he had asked her for her name.
'Mikoto... was it? Not Hanami.'
The girl was still alive. Killing her had not been worth it. And she had given him a lot information after all...
'Humans... these people here are Humans. But not those i know...'
The Curse soon found himself at a small Park. It was empty given the Night, leaving only the faint rustling of leaves and he found himself a bench on which he sat down.
'The Quirks appeared 200 years ago... and now everyone has them.'
Jogo's frown somehow deepened even more. He tried to rationalize the situation, linking it to the fake "Geto Suguru," but he did not see that mad-man creating such a peaceful world.
Yet, it had been him who talked about the potential of Cursed Energy... and wanting to see its peak.
'Would this, be what Geto considers the peak of Cursed Energy? Merging it with the Humans perhaps?'
He didn't know whether such a thing was realistic in the first place. And even if it was, it sounded far too removed from Geto's personality to be true.
'That... or the Humans somehow overcame their struggles.'
Jogo was an old curse. If there was one thing he knew, it'd be that Humans always bounced back. Despite that he was confident that his alliance with Hanami, Dagon and Mahito would have been able to wipe out every Human if it wasn't for Jujutsu Sorcerers.
But even this possibility, sounded wrong.
'Putting that aside... what does that make them?'
These... Human curses. Were they more Curse? Were they more Human?
'No. That question is wrong.'
Sukuna had told him that, hadn't he?
'This isn't about them. This is... about me.'
Was... Was that what Sukuna meant?
You should've burned everything in your path. You didn't even try.
This... wasn't just about power, was it?
Jogo's eye widened, the realization striking him like lightning.
'Its about identity...'
The Curse's entire Philosophy, his entire way of Life, had been build on the idea of truth and Lies. Humans were Liars. Curses were the manifestation of truth.
But that was not identity. At least not in the sense Sukuna had meant.
No. Identity, was personal.
'I see. I generalized Humans and Curses...'
...
...but was it wrong?
...was it wrong to do so?
An entire Decade. He had lived this truth more than an entire decade.
'But what if... i was wrong?'
-
-
Hours flew by. The first rays of Sunshine touched onto the park, painting the East in a red-orange Hue.
The curse of the Iron mountain, was still on the bench, gazing at his environment, listlessness apparent in his eye.
The first joggers entered the park, some greeting Jogo with a smile and a nod, things he did not reciprocate.
More people came in, Human parents and their Children, fussing over the little Humans known as "Children" who went to play in the Park.
Despite this environment, Jogo did not move from his place. His eye listlessly darted around, watching as everyone went on upon their day.
Then, his gaze shifted to himself.
His thin lanky arms. His grey skin. His large hands.
Jogo's stare remained on his arm for a moment. His memory replayed the beatings he had experienced, Satoru Gojo tearing off his head and Sukuna's attacks drawing blood at every strike...
Then, he formed a claw with his hand, made a small cut into his palm, watching as the purple liquid, which acted as his blood, poured out.
'A curse's blood...This is-'
"Excuse me, Sir! Are you alright?"
A voice snapped him out of his musings. Jogo looked up and met eyes with a human male. The man was visibly worried as he stepped forward, not touching Jogo, but simply regarded him, concern written across his features.
"Sir, do you need first aid? A wound this big could lead to bad infection."
Jogo's eye was wide. The man had only glanced at the color of his blood, then worried about... his safety?
A spark of Irritation arove, hotter than he had felt in a while.
"Don't bother me! Who do you think you are? I am stronger than you can even imagine!"
His voice cracked like a volcanic roar, and for a moment, the heat above his head simmered, black smoke emerging from his head. But the human did not flee, merely flinching and stepping back with a light bow, as if respecting him.
The elderly Mutant remained seated, his wide eye following the man as he walked away. The wound on his palm had already healed, leaving no trace.
But even after the man had left, Jogo found himself thinking about it. This small moment of care and compassion. Something foreign to him.
And something he wished to experience again.