The crack located below Utaha's left eye snapped open, revealing a bloodshot eyeball filled with madness and scrutiny.
The eyeball rolled nimbly, its pupil contracting as its cold gaze pierced through the mirror, looking straight at Utaha herself.
Almost simultaneously, the crack below her right eye opened as well.
It wasn't an eye, but...
A mouth!
Its contours were sharp, its edges marked with eerie patterns, and the corners of the lips even curled into a chilling, malicious arc.
"I see..."
A deep, magnetic yet sinister male voice emanated from that extra mouth, echoing clearly in the quiet bathroom.
"This isn't my own body. No wonder it feels like wearing a tight suit that doesn't fit. I can't control it at all."
The voice paused, and the extra eyeball scanned Utaha's terrified face in the mirror. Its tone became somewhat peculiar.
"But... is your name also Itadori Yuji? Why is it that every person I encounter, I can't control a single one? Tsk... though having said that, you're quite a pretty girl. Hey, what's your name?"
Sukuna spoke to himself, as if analyzing the situation or appraising goods.
He noticed that the girl in the mirror seemed to have no intention of responding to him at all. She just stared fixedly at the mirror, her lips trembling as she muttered to herself, "Hal... Hallucination? It must be because I've stayed up too late recently to meet my deadlines. Right, a hallucination caused by sleep deprivation..."
Utaha squeezed her eyes shut, shook her head hard, and then snapped them open again—in the mirror, the extra eye and mouth were still there, even offering her an even more mocking smile.
"Later... I must go to the hospital later... Ophthalmology, or psychiatry?"
She was already becoming incoherent, attempting to use logic to explain this phenomenon that completely defied common sense.
"Hey! Wake up! Woman!" Sukuna raised his volume with a hint of impatience.
"You're not having a hallucination! I am real! Visible and touchable... uh, although I might not be touchable right now, I am absolutely real!"
This shout was like a thunderclap, completely shattering Utaha's last bit of wishful thinking.
"Aaaahh!!!"
An ear-piercing scream erupted from Utaha's throat.
She recoiled, her back slamming heavily against the cold tiled wall. Her legs trembled, barely able to support the weight of her body. Her hands gripped the edge of the sink tightly, her knuckles turning white from the exertion. Her eyes were filled with extreme terror as she stared fixedly at the horrifying sight in the mirror.
"You... what on earth are you?! Why... why are you on my face?!" Her voice carried a sob, filled with terror and helplessness.
Sukuna was momentarily stunned by her extreme reaction, then found it somewhat amusing. "Ha? What am I? Didn't you 'seal' me inside your own body? Like swallowing some specially made finger or something?"
He found it strange. He was the King of Curses, after all, and his true form was a special grade cursed object.
She should have some memory of eating such a large finger, shouldn't she? Unless this girl had pica, or her brain wasn't working right?
"I... I don't know! I haven't eaten anything! What finger? Seal? What on earth are you talking about?!"
Utaha was on the verge of a breakdown, tears beginning to well up in her eyes.
Sukuna's extra eyeball rolled around, observing her reaction and confirming that she didn't seem to be lying.
This was strange. Had something gone wrong with the possession method? Who was behind this?
After a brief silence, Sukuna decided to first soothe this 'landlord' who looked like she was about to faint. After all, it wouldn't benefit him if the host had a mental breakdown.
"Fine, it seems there's been a misunderstanding."
He controlled the mouth, using what he thought was a 'peaceful' tone (though it still sounded very villainous). "Listen, little girl, calm down. My name is Ryomen Sukuna, call me whatever you want. As for my age, I don't remember clearly—maybe over a thousand years old? Unmarried... maybe I was? But my wife has probably turned to ash long ago."
"I didn't have a steady job before, I was... well, a freelancer? No job, a vagrant, begging for food everywhere while I was alive. Then I was turned into a finger until I just woke up. Later, I was made into a cursed object in the shape of a finger and remained asleep until just now, when I woke up and found myself in your body."
He paused and summarized, "Anyway, that's the situation. I can't do anything to you right now. I can't even move a finger, so there's no need to be this scared. For now, we're in... a rather unique roommate relationship?"
This half-true, half-false self-introduction, combined with Sukuna's unique, somewhat lazy and domineering tone, actually produced a strange sense of persuasiveness.
Although Utaha was still terrified, as a light novel author who wrote year-round and had a massive imagination, her rationality began to struggle back online.
Supernatural phenomena? Possession? A thousand-year-old monster? These settings... why did they sound a bit familiar yet a bit ridiculous?
Fear still enveloped her, but a sliver of curiosity and a writer's instinctual sensitivity for 'material,' mixed with the absurdity of it all, began to quietly sprout.
She looked at the extra mouth in the mirror opening and closing on its own, and the eyeball scrutinizing her. Her heavy breathing slowly calmed a little, but her hands gripping the sink still didn't let go.
An eerie silence fell over the bathroom for a moment. Only the sound of Utaha's racing heart and the occasional ambiguous clicking sound from the extra mouth echoed softly in the air.
Sukuna's shocking 'self-introduction' was like a giant boulder thrown into a calm lake, stirring up massive waves in Utaha's heart.
Any normal person who found an extra mouth and eye on their face while washing up in the morning—with that mouth talking to them—would probably be scared out of their wits.
The fact that Utaha hadn't fainted on the spot was already a testament to her psychological resilience being far beyond that of an average person—perhaps this was partly thanks to her being a light novel author, having cultivated a certain... bizarre level of tolerance from being immersed in various fantasy settings year-round?
But beneath the fear, deeper and more complex emotions were churning. Foremost was a thick, inextricable doubt that coiled around her heart like vines.
Believe him? An old monster who claimed to have lived for over a thousand years, been turned into a finger, and was now possessing her?