A year. A whole goddamn year.
You'd think after surviving the Night Parade, landing a Black Flash on a legendary curse user, and becoming the Higher-Ups' least favorite science experiment, I'd get some respect.
Nah.
"And so," the curse gurgled, its form a shifting mass of rusted gears and sad, oily smoke in the middle of an abandoned carburetor factory, "I shall feast on the despair of this city! The economic downturn! The shattered dreams of the working class! It fuels me! It..."
I scrolled through my phone. It was a custom job, Mechamaru had made it for Panda, who'd traded it to me for a month of not asking him why he was a panda. It was cursed-energy-resistant. Could survive a direct hit from a Semi-Grade 1. The screen was cracked from where Maki had thrown it at my head last week.
"Uh huh," I said, not looking up. I was reading a forum thread about whether Yuta was still a fraud if he was in Africa. The consensus was 'probably, but long-distance.'
[Host. The curse is monologuing. Its despair-to-mass ratio is quite high. Threat level: Grade 1. Boredom level: Critical.]
"I know, Sage. I'm multitasking."
The curse, 'Factory Grudge', the mission scroll called it, rippled with indignation. "You dare ignore me? I am the embodied grief of a hundred laid-off salarymen! I am toxic ennui given form!"
I finally looked up, slipping my phone into my pocket. "Yeah, yeah. 'Toxic ennui.' Heard it before. Last week it was a curse born from student loan debt. Tasted like stale ramen and tears. Before that, one made from gym membership guilt. That one was chewy." I cracked my neck. "Great Sage, give me the cheat sheet."
[Primary Attack: Emission of morale-sapping psychic waves. Weakness: Sudden, unexpected career advancement opportunities or vigorous physical activity.]
I sighed, a long, suffering sound that came from my soul. "Look, man. I don't get paid enough for this. Have you considered… a hobby? Maybe woodworking? You've got plenty of raw material."
It hissed, and a wave of palpable dread washed over me, the kind that makes you remember every embarrassing thing you've ever done at 3 AM. My coffee this morning suddenly tasted like ash.
[Morale-sapping wave detected. Neutralizing with concentrated spike of self-righteous indignation.]
"Ugh, fine," I grumbled. I didn't even bother with Predator. Too much work. Instead, I focused, a year of Great Sage's brutal CE bootcamp kicking in, and shaped the cursed energy around my right hand.
It wasn't a blast. It wasn't a wave. It was a scalpel.
A blade of pure, hyper-condensed, vibrationally-aligned cursed energy formed, humming with a faint, high-pitched whine. I flicked my wrist.
The energy blade shot across the factory, silent and precise. It didn't explode. It didn't make a sound. It just passed through the center of the Factory Grudge's shimmering, sad core.
The curse paused mid-gurgle. It looked down at the neat, smoking hole in its chest. Then it looked back at me, its many gear-eyes blinking in confusion.
"...Huh?"
And then it dissolved, not with a scream, but with a sound like a deflating balloon and a faint, whispered "...but my 401(k)…"
[Target exorcised. Efficiency rating: S+. Host's method was… clinically disrespectful. I have logged it under 'Preferred Protocols'.]
"Thanks." I stretched, feeling the now-familiar, post-mission ache in my shoulders. "Let's go home. I bet Panda burned down the kitchen again."
=============================
Jujutsu High hadn't changed much. The craters from the Night Parade were filled in. The walls were patched. The air still smelled of ozone, old wood, and Panda's questionable cooking.
I pushed open the door to the common room.
Chaos.
Panda was wearing an apron that said 'KISS THE COOK' and was frantically fanning a cloud of black smoke emanating from the microwave. Toge Inumaki was sitting at the table, his face in his hands, muttering what sounded like a continuous, low-grade curse. The air smelled of burnt plastic and regret.
"I'm back," I announced.
Panda whirled, his bead eyes wide with panic. "Kaito! Thank god! It was an accident! I just wanted to reheat my fried chicken!"
"You put metal in the microwave, didn't you."
"It was in a really nice container!"
Toge lifted his head. His eyes were red. He croaked, "Mustard leaf…" which Great Sage, after a year of refinement, translated as: 'I have seen the face of culinary hell, and it is our furry brother.'
"Where's Maki?" I asked, sidestepping a pile of what looked like charcoal disguised as chicken.
"Weapons vault," Panda said, giving up on the smoke and embracing the impending fire alarm. "She got a new shipment. She's been cackling for an hour. It's terrifying."
The door slid open. Speak of the devil.
Maki Zenin walked in, a long, cloth-wrapped bundle slung over her shoulder. Her glasses were slightly askew, there was a smudge of grease on her cheek, and she looked… happy. In her own, terrifying way.
She saw me, the smoking microwave, the despairing Toge. Her eyes narrowed behind her lenses.
"You're back," she stated. No hello. No welcome. "Good. I need a moving target for the new toy." She jerked her thumb towards the bundle.
Classic.
Then, without breaking stride, she fished in the pocket of her cargo pants and tossed something at my head.
I caught it on reflex. It was a KitKat. Slightly crushed.
"Don't faint during training," she said, as if commenting on the weather, and headed for the kitchen to, presumably, wrestle the microwave away from Panda.
I looked at the candy bar. A year ago, this would have confused me. Now, I understood. This was Maki-speak for 'Good to have you back, idiot. Don't die.'
I pocketed the KitKat. My heart did a stupid little flip. I told it to shut up.
[Physiological response noted. Romantic subtext parameters remain active. Host's affect is ill-concealed.]
"I will delete you," I muttered under my breath.
The fire alarm finally went off with a piercing shriek.
=============================
Training with Maki was less 'sparring' and more 'controlled assassination attempt'. Her new 'toy' was a triple-sectioned staff that could extend, retract, and, I swear, had a mind of its own. She'd incorporated my disruptive style into her own, feinting to draw out a technique, then closing in to shatter it with pure physicality.
I was better now, though. A year of Black Flash enlightenment and Sage's endless drills meant I could match her pace. I used my CE not for big flashes, but for micro-enhancements: a burst of speed in my footwork, a hardened palm to deflect the staff, a kinetic push from my fingertips to throw off her balance.
We moved in a blur of wood and crackling energy in the training hall. She was still better. I ended up flat on my back, the tip of her staff an inch from my throat, for the third time.
She was breathing hard. So was I.
"You're holding back," she accused, not moving the staff. "You're not using that… eating thing."
"Predator's for curses," I grunted. "Not for you."
She held my gaze for a second longer than necessary, then pulled the staff back. "Sentimental," she said, but there was no bite to it. She offered a hand and pulled me up. "Your control's better. Less flashy waste."
"My internal life coach says 'efficiency is king'."
"Your internal life coach is smarter than you."
The door to the training hall slammed open with the force of a small explosion.
"MY FAVORITE LITTLE BLACK HOLE!"
Gojo Satoru stood in the doorway, his white hair defying gravity and several laws of physics. His grin was a slash of manic joy.
Maki sighed, a sound of profound exhaustion. "What."
"I have news!" Gojo sang, bouncing into the room. "The most exciting news! I've been recruiting!"
A cold pit formed in my stomach. "Recruiting."
"New first-years! Fresh meat! Wide-eyed and bushy-tailed and ready to be traumatized!" He clapped his hands together. "And one of them is… special. Like, 'might make the Higher-Ups actually have a collective stroke' special. Fun, right?"
Maki and I exchanged a look. It was a look that said, 'Here we go again.'
===========================
They assembled in the courtyard an hour later. The 'old guard', me, Maki, Panda, Toge, stood on one side, trying to look like responsible upperclassmen and mostly failing. Panda had soot on his fur. Toge was nursing a throat lozenge. Maki looked like she was contemplating murder. I was eating the slightly-crushed KitKat.
Gojo stood in the middle with his new victims.
First, Megumi Fushiguro. Dark hair, darker circles under his eyes, a perpetual expression of someone who'd just smelled something bad. He gave off a vibe of competent gloom. I'd seen him around on missions, the 'Potential Man', though I'd never say it to his face. Great Sage's file on him was just: [Subject: Fushiguro. Technique: Ten Shadows. Status: Constantly burdened. Threat Level: High (when motivated).]
Next, Nobara Kugisaki. Vibrant orange hair, a confident smirk, a hammer casually slung over her shoulder. Her eyes swept over us, sharp and assessing. They landed on Maki, the spear on her back, the don't-fuck-with-me aura, and lit up.
"Woah," Nobara said, the word a punch of genuine admiration. "Cool glasses. Cooler spear. You. I like you."
Maki's lips twitched in what, for her, was a beaming smile. "Hn."
And then, him.
Yuji Itadori.
Pink hair. A grin so bright it should have required a sunblock warning. A hoodie. He stood with his hands clasped, bowing slightly. "It's great to meet you all! I'm Yuji Itadori! I look forward to learning from you!"
He was like a golden retriever that had been injected with pure sunshine and then given a protein shake. The sincerity was almost physically painful.
[Scanning new entities,] Great Sage intoned. [Subject: Kugisaki Nobara. Technique: Straw Doll. Methodology: Brutalist aestheticism. Threat Level: Moderate (High if host's fashion is criticized).]
[Subject: Itadori Yuji. Physical Capabilities: Aberrant. Cursed Energy Reserves: Negligible. Vessel Status: CONFIRMED. Foreign Entity Detected: 'Ryomen Sukuna'. Energy Signature: Cataclysmic. Ancient. Hungry.]
A series of emergency alerts flashed in my mind's eye. [WARNING: DO NOT CONSUME. WARNING: DO NOT PROVOKE. WARNING: DO NOT MAKE EYE CONTACT FOR MORE THAN 3 SECONDS. PROTOCOL 'ABSOLUTELY THE F** NOT' IS NOW IN EFFECT.]*
I swallowed the last of the KitKat. "You think I should eat Sukuna?" I whispered.
[If host's life goal is to have his soul used as a toothpick by the King of Curses, then proceed. I will observe and take detailed notes for the post-mortem analysis. It will be a fascinating, if brief, final experiment.]
Yuji's radar, tuned to 'interesting people', locked onto me. He bounded over, his energy making the air around him vibrate. "Gojo-sensei said there's a senpai here who eats curses! That's so cool! What's the weirdest thing you've ever tasted?"
I looked into his earnest, excited eyes. "The hopes and dreams of a middle manager," I said, deadpan. "Tasted like stale coffee and regret."
Yuji's eyes went starry. "Whoa. That's deep."
Nobara shoved him aside. "Forget that. Can you tell if a curse would, like, make a good pair of earrings? I have theories about metaphysical accessories."
I blinked. "Great Sage?"
[Subject Kugisaki's paradigm of 'aesthetic-parasitism' is… novel. Data inconclusive. Recommend humoring her. Her hammer appears well-balanced.]
"I'll… get back to you on that," I told her.
Gojo clapped, drawing all attention. "Alright! Love the bonding! Now, let's see what the new blood can do! Friendly spar! Yuji and Megumi versus… Kaito and Maki!" He grinned. "Let's see if my second-years have gotten soft eating cafeteria food!"
Megumi looked like he'd rather be anywhere else. Yuji lit up like a Christmas tree. "Yes! Let's do it!"
Maki just hefted her new staff. "Try not to cry, first-years."
The 'spar' was less a match and more a controlled disaster.
Yuji came at me first. No finesse. Just raw, terrifying speed and power. His fist came at my face like a cannonball.
I didn't dodge. I didn't use Predator. I held up a hand, palm out, and shaped my cursed energy. Not a wall. A lens. A kinetic dispersion field, a bastardized, single-layer, knock-off version of what I'd seen Gojo do in theory.
Yuji's punch hit the air in front of my palm and slowed. The force diffused, spreading out in a ripple of distorted air. It still pushed me back a step, but it didn't break my arm.
Yuji skidded to a halt, staring at his fist, then at me. "Whoa! How'd you do that?"
"Applied physics," I said, shaking out my stinging hand. "And a lifetime of anxiety."
Across the courtyard, Maki and Megumi were a clash of philosophies. Megumi summoned his Divine Dogs. Maki didn't flinch. She read their movements, her staff a blur, deflecting and striking with brutal economy. She wasn't fighting the shikigami; she was fighting Megumi's intent, disrupting his summons before they could fully form.
Nobara cheered from the sidelines, utterly unbiased. "GET HIM, MAKI-SENPAI! WAIT, NO, GET HIM, FUSHIGURO! AHH, I DON'T KNOW WHO TO ROOT FOR, THIS IS AWESOME!"
Yuji, fueled by excitement, overcommitted again. A huge, telegraphed swing. I saw the opening Maki had drilled into me a thousand times. I sidestepped, my hand lashing out in a precise, CE-enhanced chop to the back of his neck.
It was a stunning point. Not enough to knock out a normal human. Yuji wasn't normal.
He dropped to one knee, shook his head like a wet dog, and sprang back up, his grin wider than ever. "That was amazing! You have to teach me how to do that!"
And then it happened.
On Yuji's cheek, a line split open. A mouth. And next to it, an eye, blood-red and ancient, swiveled and locked onto me.
The air grew heavy. Colder. The playful energy of the spar died instantly.
A voice, not from the mouth, but echoing directly in the core of my brain, spoke. It was the sound of mountains grinding to dust.
"You."
Everyone froze. Megumi's shadows stilled. Maki's grip tightened on her staff. Nobara's cheer died in her throat.
"The little thief. I can smell it on you. The faintest stain. You've tasted a fragment of what is mine."
Sukuna.
I kept my face blank. My heart was trying to beat its way out of my chest. "Great Sage, talk to me."
[Panic not advised. Acknowledgment protocol. Do not show fear. He feeds on it.]
I sighed, the most put-upon sound I could muster. It took effort. "Great. The tenant's awake. Doesn't he know about quiet hours?"
The red eye narrowed. The pressure intensified. "Cheeky insect. I'll enjoy tearing that stolen shred from your soul. It will be… amusing."
The mouth curved into a cruel smile. Then the eye closed. The mouth sealed shut, leaving unmarked skin.
The silence that followed was thick enough to swim in.
Yuji was pale, his hands clenched. He looked from his cheek to me, horror dawning. "I am… SO sorry about him! He's so rude! And gross! And he never pays rent!"
I shrugged, forcing nonchalance. "It's fine. My internal narrator says he has the emotional maturity of a salted slug. We're used to it."
Nobara broke the tension by marching up to Yuji and poking his cheek. "Does that happen often? Can you feel it? That is so unsanitary. And bad for your skin!"
Gojo, who had been watching the whole thing with the delight of a kid at a circus, finally sauntered over. "Well! That was informative! Good job, everyone! No one died! Mostly!" He threw an arm around my shoulders, pulling me away. "A word, my little black hole."
He steered me towards the edge of the courtyard, his voice dropping to a theatrical whisper. "Sukuna's interested in you. That's fun! He thinks you stole something from him. A little piece of his… essence. Did you?"
I thought back. A year ago. The falling crate. Eating the force, the kinetic energy. The conceptual 'cut' of it. Had I, without knowing, taken a sliver of Sukuna's own 'Cleave'? The idea that cut through anything?
My face must have shown something.
Gojo's grin turned razor-sharp. "Keep it that way. Don't know. A confused, slightly-annoyed King of Curses is much more fun than a focused, vengeful one." He patted my head. "Now go! Be a good senpai! Teach the pink one not to get himself exorcised!"
The rest of the day was a blur of forced normalcy. Yuji followed me like an eager puppy, asking endless questions about CE control. Nobara debated curse-accessory theory with a bemused Panda. Megumi and Toge shared a silent, understanding look of suffering.
That evening, I found myself on the roof. The sky was bleeding orange and purple.
The door opened. Maki walked out, two cans of vending machine coffee in hand. She tossed me one.
We drank in silence, watching the lights of Tokyo start to flicker on.
"The first-years," she said eventually. "They're a mess."
"We were worse," I said.
"We still are."
A comfortable quiet settled between us. It was our language.
"Sukuna," I said, the name tasting foul. "He's going to be a problem."
"So we deal with it." She took a sip. "Like we always do." She glanced at me, her eyes sharp. "You've got that look. The one you get right before you do something monumentally stupid."
I stared at my hands. At the faint, almost invisible scar on my knuckles from the Black Flash. "I'm just thinking," I said, slowly. "If the King of Curses wants a piece of me back… maybe I should take a bigger piece of him first."
Maki shook her head. But she wasn't frowning. A small, exasperated, fond smile touched her lips. "Idiot."
Below us, in the courtyard, we could hear Yuji's booming laugh, Nobara arguing with Panda about the tactical merits of a cursed-energy-powered nail gun, and Megumi's long-suffering sigh.
The new era had crashed into our lives with all the subtlety of a wrecking ball. Our weird, messed-up family had just gotten bigger, louder, and infinitely more complicated.
[Daily Log Concluded,] Great Sage announced in my mind. [New variables integrated: Itadori Yuji (Vessel/Sunshine Incarnate), Kugisaki Nobara (Aesthetic Terrorist), Fushiguro Megumi (The Burdened). Host's baseline stress has increased by 5%. Companionship and chaos metrics have increased by 300%. Net outcome: Positive. Projected survival probability for upcoming calendar year… recalculating…]
It paused.
[Probability holding steady. Apparently, chaos is a viable survival strategy.]
I finished my coffee, crushed the can, and looked at Maki. She met my gaze.
Yeah. We'd deal with it.
===========================
Word Count: ~3,100
A/N: yo wsg, FINALLY the main plot begin's, hope y'all liked the chap, kinda slice of life but good, anyways. (throw some stones if you want to see more chapters)