The interior of the building was a maze of unfinished construction.
Concrete pillars rose like skeletal ribs, supporting floors that existed only as rough frameworks. Plastic sheeting hung in strips from exposed beams, creating translucent curtains that shifted in the stagnant air. The cursed energy was oppressive here, thick enough that even non-sorcerers might've felt uneasy walking these corridors.
Akira's skin crawled with it.
Every step deeper into the structure made his own cursed energy surge in response, eager to engage. The black veins threatened to surface with each breath. He kept his hands in his pockets, fingers curled into fists, nails digging into his palms hard enough to hurt. The pain helped. Grounded him.
Yuji moved ahead with the casual confidence of someone who'd forgotten what fear felt like. His cursed energy flowed naturally, reinforcing his body without conscious thought—a level of integration most sorcerers took years to achieve. He had it after months. Sukuna's influence, probably. The benefit of hosting the King of Curses.
At least when Sukuna took over, everyone knew. There was no ambiguity, no pretense. The tattoos appeared, the personality shifted, and it was obvious the monster was in control.
Akira's curses didn't give him that courtesy. They just whispered.
"Fourth floor," one murmured. "Can you feel it? Strong. Angry. Delicious."
He ignored it.
"Energy's concentrated above us," Megumi said, voice low. His Divine Dog—just one, the white one—had manifested beside him, a shadow given lupine form. It was sniffing the air, hackles raised. "Multiple signatures, actually. Either the curse has split itself or there's more than one."
Nobara frowned, hammer resting against her shoulder. "The report said Grade Three, singular."
"Reports are wrong sometimes," Yuji pointed out. "Wouldn't be the first time a curse was stronger than expected. Or had friends."
"Great. Love surprises." But Nobara's grip on her hammer tightened slightly. "Guess we adapt. Same plan—stick together, no heroics, clean exorcism."
They found the stairs—a concrete shaft with metal railings that led upward into increasing darkness. The cursed energy grew denser with each floor. By the third landing, Akira could see his breath condensing in the air despite the June heat outside. Temperature drop was a classic sign of powerful curse manifestation. The ambient energy was disrupting normal physics.
His veins darkened visibly now. He could feel them, spreading from his wrists toward his elbows. He tugged his sleeves down further, but the fabric could only hide so much.
"Stop fighting it," the voice urged. "You'll need your strength soon. Let us help."
Fourth floor.
The Divine Dog stopped at the landing, growling low. Its shadow flickered, unstable—a sign that something was interfering with Megumi's technique. Whatever was here, it was strong enough to disrupt cursed energy manipulation.
The hallway stretched before them, lined with doorways that opened into empty apartments. Most of the doors hung off their hinges or were missing entirely. The cursed energy emanated from the far end, a pulsing presence that made Akira's teeth ache.
"Formation," Megumi said quietly. "Itadori front, Kugisaki and I mid-range, Kurozawa support. Don't engage until we assess the situation."
Standard tactical approach. Yuji could take hits that would kill normal sorcerers. Megumi and Nobara had techniques that worked best at medium distance. And Akira—
Akira had never demonstrated any particular specialization, so he defaulted to support. Backup. The role of someone competent but unremarkable.
Safe.
They advanced down the hallway. The plastic sheeting had been torn here, hanging in shreds like shed skin. Dark stains marked the concrete—could've been water damage, could've been something worse. The cursed energy was making Akira's vision blur slightly at the edges, purple hazes appearing in his peripheral vision.
The absorbed curses were excited. He could feel them pressing against whatever barrier separated his consciousness from theirs, eager to see what was about to happen.
The hallway opened into what should've been a large apartment or common area. Instead, it was a nest.
The curse had transformed the space into something organic. The walls were covered in a substance that looked like congealed tar, pulsing slightly as if breathing. Bones—animal, probably, but Akira didn't look too closely—were embedded in the dark material, creating a skeletal lattice. The smell was overwhelming: rot and metal and something chemical that burned the back of his throat.
And in the center of the room, the curse waited.
It was humanoid. Roughly. Two arms, two legs, a torso. But the proportions were wrong, stretched and compressed in ways that defied anatomy. Its skin—if that's what the slick black surface could be called—seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. Its head was eyeless, just a smooth oval with a mouth that split the lower half horizontally, revealing rows of teeth that looked like broken glass.
Grade Three, the report had said.
This thing was easily Grade Two. Maybe stronger.
"Well," Yuji said conversationally, "that's not great."
The curse's head snapped toward them. Its mouth opened wider, unhinging like a snake's, and it screamed.
The sound was physical force. Akira felt it slam into him like a wave, driving the air from his lungs. The cursed energy in the scream was toxic, designed to paralyze prey through overwhelming terror. He staggered, catching himself against the doorframe.
Yuji barely flinched. Megumi winced but held his ground. Nobara clapped her hands over her ears, teeth gritted.
The curse charged.
It moved wrong—not running but flowing, its body compressing and extending like something boneless. Fast. Too fast for Grade Two.
Yuji met it head-on.
His fist, reinforced with cursed energy, caught the curse in its center mass. The impact created a shockwave that rattled the walls. The curse's body deformed around the blow, absorbing it, then snapped back like rubber.
It lashed out with one elongated arm. Yuji blocked, but the force sent him sliding backward, shoes scraping on concrete.
"It's resilient!" he called out. "Hits aren't sticking!"
Megumi's hands were already moving through signs. "Nue!"
The shikigami manifested—a massive bird-like creature wreathed in electricity. It dove at the curse, talons crackling with lightning. The curse twisted, impossibly flexible, and caught Nue mid-strike. Electricity arced across its body but didn't seem to hurt it. If anything, the curse looked energized, mouth stretching wider in what might've been pleasure.
It absorbed the lightning. Fed on it.
"Energy attacks aren't working!" Megumi dismissed Nue before the curse could damage it permanently. "Kugisaki!"
Nobara was already moving. She slammed three nails into the floor in a triangular formation, then struck them with her hammer in rapid succession. Her Resonance technique activated—the nails serving as anchors for her cursed energy, creating a connection to the curse itself.
The curse convulsed. Its body rippled, parts of it deforming as Nobara's technique attacked from within. But after a moment, it adapted. The deformations stabilized. The curse's mouth twisted into something that looked disturbingly like a smile.
It was learning. Evolving.
This wasn't a normal Grade Two curse. This was something that had been feeding on cursed energy itself, growing stronger with every sorcerer who'd tried to exorcise it.
"Fall back!" Megumi ordered. "We need to reassess—"
The curse's body exploded outward.
Not literally. But it expanded, limbs stretching, torso elongating, filling the room with writhing black tendrils that lashed out like whips. One caught Nobara across the chest, sending her crashing into the wall hard enough to crack the concrete. Another wrapped around Yuji's leg, yanking him off balance.
Megumi's Divine Dog lunged, teeth snapping at the tendrils, but there were too many. One slammed into Megumi, and he hit the ground rolling, barely avoiding the follow-up strike.
Akira stood in the doorway, watching the fight deteriorate in real time.
His friends were losing.
Not badly. Not yet. But this curse was beyond them, at least in its current form. They needed more firepower. More versatility. More—
"Let us out," the voice demanded. Not pleading. Commanding. "You have the power. Use it. Save them."
Akira's hands were shaking. The veins had spread to his shoulders now, black lines visible even through his shirt. His cursed energy was surging, responding to the combat, to the presence of the enemy curse.
He could end this. One absorption. Quick. Clean. The curse would be gone, trapped inside him with the others. His friends would be safe.
And he'd have five voices instead of four.
Yuji was struggling against the tendril wrapped around his leg, cursed energy flaring as he tried to tear free. Megumi was back on his feet, summoning another shikigami—the frogs this time, smaller and faster. Nobara was upright but favoring her left side, probably bruised ribs.
They were handling it. Barely. But handling it.
Akira didn't need to intervene.
Except the curse was gathering energy. He could see it, a dark mass forming in its core, pulsing with absorbed cursed energy from the attacks it had already weathered. It was preparing something big. Something final.
Decision point.
Let his friends handle it and risk catastrophic injury. Or act, end the threat, and hide what he'd done. Again.
"Choose quickly," the voice hissed. "Or watch them die."
The curse released its accumulated energy.
The blast was omnidirectional, a sphere of concentrated cursed energy expanding outward with the curse at its center. Yuji threw his arms up, trying to block. Megumi's shikigami dissolved instantly. Nobara dove behind a concrete pillar.
Akira moved.
He didn't think. Didn't calculate. Just acted on pure instinct, the instinct that had made him absorb that first curse three months ago. The instinct to protect, whatever the cost.
His cursed energy exploded outward.
Not standard reinforcement. Not a basic technique. This was something else, something wrong and powerful and alien. The energy was violet-black, shot through with streaks of deeper darkness, and it formed a barrier between his friends and the curse's attack.
The two forces collided.
The barrier held. Barely. Akira felt the impact like a physical blow to his chest, but he gritted his teeth and pushed back. His veins were fully visible now, black lines spreading across his neck, creeping toward his jaw. His eyes burned, vision tinting violet.
The curse's attack dissipated against his defense.
Silence fell over the room.
Yuji was staring at him. Megumi's eyes were wide. Even Nobara looked shocked.
And Akira knew—knew with absolute certainty—that he'd just revealed something he couldn't explain away.
The curse recovered first.
It lunged at Akira, recognizing him as the greater threat now. Its mouth opened impossibly wide, rows of glass-shard teeth gleaming.
Akira's body moved on autopilot.
He caught the curse mid-lunge. His hands sank into its body, not through it but into it, and he felt the familiar, terrible sensation of connection. The curse's energy flowing into him. Its essence being drawn into whatever void existed in his soul.
Absorption.
The curse shrieked, thrashing, but it was too late. The process had begun. Akira felt it dissolving, breaking apart, being consumed piece by piece. Its memories flooded his mind—years of accumulation, feeding on the fear of construction workers, the despair of homeless people who'd sheltered in this building, the violence of gang activity in the area.
Strong. So much stronger than the Grade Fours he'd taken before.
His veins turned pure black. His eyes flared violet. And for just a moment—a single, terrible moment—Akira Kurozawa disappeared, replaced by something that wore his face but felt nothing like human.
Then it was over.
The curse was gone. Absorbed. Silent.
Akira collapsed to his knees, gasping. The black veins were receding slowly, but not fast enough. His friends could see. They'd seen everything.
"What," Nobara said slowly, "the hell was that?"
Akira couldn't answer. His throat felt raw, like he'd been screaming. The new voice in his head was louder than the others, aggressive and angry, raging about being trapped.
Five now. He had five curses.
Yuji approached cautiously, like Akira was a wounded animal that might lash out. "Kurozawa? You okay, man?"
"I'm—" His voice cracked. He tried again. "I'm fine."
"You're not fine," Megumi said flatly. He hadn't moved, just stood there watching with those dark, analytical eyes. "That technique. What was that?"
Akira forced himself to stand. His legs trembled but held. The veins were fading now, retreating back beneath his skin, but they'd been visible long enough. There was no denying what had happened.
"It's complicated," he managed.
"Complicated," Nobara repeated incredulously. "You just ate a curse. Like, literally ate it. That's not complicated, that's insane!"
"I didn't eat—" But he had. Not literally, but functionally, that's exactly what he'd done. "Look, I can explain. Just—not here. Not now."
Yuji's expression had shifted from concern to something more guarded. Not hostile, but wary. Careful. "Did Gojo-sensei know about this?"
Of course he'd ask that. Yuji trusted Gojo implicitly, believed in his judgment. If Gojo knew and hadn't said anything, that meant it was approved. Sanctioned.
"Yes," Akira said quietly. "He knows."
That seemed to satisfy Yuji, at least partially. His posture relaxed slightly. But Megumi's frown deepened, and Nobara looked more confused than reassured.
"We need to get back," Megumi said. "File a report. And you need to talk to Gojo-sensei. Now."
Not a suggestion. An order.
Akira nodded. What else could he do?
They made their way out of the building in tense silence. The auxiliary manager was waiting by the van, looking relieved when they emerged. He took one look at the group's expressions and wisely didn't ask questions.
The drive back to Tokyo felt eternal.
Akira sat in the back, arms wrapped around himself, trying to quiet the new voice screaming in his head. The curse he'd just absorbed was strong-willed, furious at being trapped. It kept showing him fragments of its existence—the moment it formed from accumulated negative emotion, the first human it killed, the intoxicating rush of consuming cursed energy.
It wanted revenge. It wanted freedom. It wanted to tear everything apart.
And somewhere in the chaos of its memories and rage, Akira could feel himself slipping. His own thoughts were harder to distinguish from its thoughts. His own desires bleeding into its hunger.
Five curses. Five voices.
How many more before he stopped being able to tell which thoughts were his own?
Yuji was watching him from across the van. Not obviously, but Akira could feel the weight of his gaze. And there was something in his expression—recognition, maybe. Understanding. The look of someone who knew what it felt like to carry something dark inside.
"Hey," Yuji said quietly, so only Akira could hear. "For what it's worth? You saved us back there. Whatever that technique is, whatever it costs you... you used it to protect us. That matters."
Akira wanted to believe that. Wanted to think that his intentions made a difference, that choosing to use his power for protection somehow balanced out what he was becoming.
But the voices in his head laughed at the thought, and the black veins pulsing beneath his skin suggested intentions didn't mean much when you were turning into a monster.
"Thanks," he said anyway, because Yuji was trying to help and deserved acknowledgment for that.
Tokyo Jujutsu High appeared on the horizon, and Akira felt a sick mixture of relief and dread.
The secret was out. Partially. His friends knew something was wrong, even if they didn't understand the full extent.
And Gojo was waiting.
The van pulled through the gates. The sun was setting, painting the campus in shades of red and gold that seemed far too beautiful for how Akira felt inside.
They climbed out. Megumi immediately headed toward the administrative building—filing the report, probably. Nobara lingered, looking like she wanted to say something, then shook her head and followed Megumi.
Yuji stayed.
"You don't have to face this alone," he said. "Whatever it is you're dealing with. You've got people who care. Remember that."
Then he was gone too, jogging to catch up with the others.
Akira stood alone in the courtyard, the same courtyard where he'd trained last night. Where Gojo had appeared and observed and known, even then, what was coming.
"Five," the new voice growled. "We are five. Soon we'll be strong enough. Soon we'll be free."
"No," Akira whispered. "You won't."
But even as he said it, he wondered if he was trying to convince the curses or himself.
His phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number, but he knew who it was before he even looked.
My office. Now.
Gojo.
Akira took a breath, squared his shoulders, and walked toward whatever judgment awaited.
Behind him, the sun finished setting, and darkness claimed the campus.