November 20th, 2018, Kiroko mine, Saitama prefecture

  Crouching behind a wall of sandbags, Yuji Itadori couldn’t help but feel a not small amount of nervousness. Which he had to admit felt silly considering who all was here. Then again considering what they were about to do, his nerves being on edge seemed appropriate regardless of company

  To his left and right, Kusakabe and Inumaki, respectively, hid behind the crafted barricade. Inumaki was holding a blowhorn to extend the range of his voice and technique. His left sleeve still hung limp at his side since he hadn’t had Shoko heal his arm yet. She had offered to do it while they let him out, but his technique was one of the few ways they had of actually affecting Gojo Sensei, so his presence at his unsealing was something he refused to negotiate.

  Kusakabe was standing with both his legs bent—unlike Inumaki and Yuji, who were on their knees— His sword still sheathed, yet he held his hands on the blade. Yuji couldn’t see it with his own eyes, but he probably had his simple domain expanded as well. A simple domain could reduce the strength of cursed techniques within it, or Kukusabe’s could at the very least. Yuji didn’t pride himself on understanding the specifics. At any rate, he was supposed to shield them both as best he could. His best was something Kusukabe didn’t seem to hold in high regard but had agreed to do nonetheless.

  Standing in front and to the side of their three-person bunker were Okkotsu and Zenin Senpai. Okkotsu was holding one of his blades and had his Shikigami conjured behind him, snake eyes and fangs around his mouth in the same manner as Inumaki. Zenin was standing tall, holding the same sword she had been keeping since they rejoined in Tokyo. Yuji doubted the sword would be of much help if it came to using it, but whatever made her feel safe.

  Glancing behind him, Yuji’s eyes met Choso’s gaze. He had conjured quite a bit of blood and had it floating around him, likely prepared to use it as a shield. Standing to the side of his pseudo brother was miss Ieri. She seemed unaffected by the tension that was present in everyone’s gait, her brow furrowing in irritation as she tried to light a cigarette only to keep failing. Hakari, who stood next to Shoko, seemed unbothered by the mood as well.

  In the sky a few dozen feet in front of him and a few dozen more in the air was the most important member of their ‘Free the blindfolded idiot squad,’ as Maki senpai and Miss Ieri had so uncaringly dubbed it. Wings coming out of her back and being used to keep her afloat. Beneath her on the ground, laid out on a tarp, was the center of the sorcerer’s assembled combined focus—the prison realm.

  The special grade cursed object that was currently housing the strongest entity any of them could comprehend. Yuji felt his fists clench as he thought back on how much they had all given to reach this point. Miss Tsukimo, who had died trying to kill Kenjaku and still had managed to keep the prison realm safe. Megumi, whom Yuji had failed in the same way he had failed so many others. Being added to the list of people whose lives Sukuna had ruined and Yuji held the blame for.

  No, focus on that later. Gojo sensei can fix this nightmare; that’s what Megumi said anyway…

  Yuji shook his head and lightly clasped both hands to his face in order to regain focus on the present situation. Looking around, the people gathered didn’t seem to know what to do. Looking apprehensively towards the box that rested between them all. They had agreed and known this would be the time they unsealed him, but none seemed sure how to go about doing it—All but one.

  “Angel! Unseal the dumbass already; he’s got work to do.” Blowing out a puff of smoke, Miss Ieri raised her voice as she addressed the person flying well above them. It wasn’t quite a yell, but it was the loudest Yuji had ever heard the normally restrained person speak.

  “Salom,” Shouting an affirmation into the megaphone, Inumaki’s voice sounded about the rocky flat ground and to the person above.

  Not sparing any time, Yuji felt their flying companion begin to gather cursed energy. In response, everyone conjointly readied themselves to react to whatever might occur.

  “Jacob's ladder,” Bringing their hands to their mouth, a circular beam of light several feet in diameter shot down from above. Centered on the spot the prison realm lay.

  Everyone gathered took a shared gulp as they watched the light show. Prepared to handle Gojo no matter how disastrous his current mental state might be, hoping to do anything but. After a few seconds passed, Angel’s technique vanished, and so did the prison realm along with it. Leaving behind nothing…

  “What?” Yuji stood up as he voiced his surprise at the remains of angel’s technique, or the lack thereof to be more precise.

  Maki walked over and knelt down at the blast site, her fingers running along the smooth ground.

  “The back of the prison realm is gone, so then why isn't that idiot here?”

  “Maybe it’s because he’s evil?” Descending from above, Hana offered her insight into the situation. Insight that was met with a combined look of bewilderment from all who gathered.

  “Well, you know… Angel’s technique is about exterminating evil, so if he was evil, he probably vanished as well. It’s not our fault, right, Angel?” The girl looked away as she began fiddling with her hands in front of her. Desperately asking her partner for an out.

  “My cursed technique doesn't exterminate evil, Hana. It targets and removes cursed energy and anything it’s attached to or imbued into. If Satoru Gojo were to be struck by my technique, it wouldn’t erase him… not without prolonged, unresisted contact, I suppose.” A small mouth formed on Hana’s cheek as Angel reminded them of the specifics of her technique.

  “See, it’s not our fault.” Hana crossed her arms over her chest as she refused to relent on the point that they held no blame for Gojo’s disappearance.

  “Wouldn’t he emerge from the front of the prison realm? The talking thumb said, that’s what held the authority to release what’s inside.” Choso shrugged as he offered his input on the situation.

  “If that’s what Tengen said, then it’s probably the case. Though I wish we had some way of knowing whether or not it worked. If it turns out we need the front to let him out, we're—” Kukukabe’s worries were drowned out as the entire quarry they were in began to rumble.

  “An earthquake?” Yuji exclaimed the only explanation for the event aloud.

  The sounds of stone crashing against stone rang out. The floor on which the sorcerer stood began to shake. Yuji looked around frantically as if he could find a source. Soon after the shaking began, it subsided, only lasting a handful of seconds in total.

  “The timing can’t be a coincidence,” Sheathing his sword, Okkotsu sensei mumbled his thoughts on the situation.

  “So then… what now?” A strong gust of wind blew through the quarry as Yuji spoke. His worries about what their next move should be quickly became drowned out in the uncharacteristically rich laughter coming from Miss Ieri’s throat.

  Yuji—as well as everyone else—turned to look at her to see what spurred such a reaction. Instead of responding with words, she pointed with her free hand towards the sky in front of her, taking the cigar in her other hand and placing it in her mouth. Yuji turned to look at what she had pointed at, his eyes widening after seeing what she had.

  “He’s doing it all by himself again. I wish that moron would finally learn he’s not alone in this,” Chuckling softly Miss Ieri let out a breath of smoky air.

  Neither Yuji nor anyone present could read the emotions behind her words and laugh. The endless sadness laced in her concealed plea; the torment she felt at being unable to assist in what should be a battle they both fought—Geto was her friend as well, after all; the jealousy that surged through her at the thought that when he did return, the students gathered would only be concerned for the strongest—leaving her at the wayside yet again.

  Shoko Ieri didn’t feel saddened at the realization all her feelings would be left unrequited. Soon they could all be together again, well, just her and Geto at the very least—She had earned some alone time with him in hell after all these years.

  “Hiyaa,” shouting rather cutely. Miwa took a step forward and drove her weapon through a training dummy.

  The thin, needle-like blade of the rapier she had equipped glided through the dummy effortlessly. Making no sound as it embedded itself a foot into the thing's padded chest, going all the way through shortly after. Miwa waited a moment before pulling the sword out, frowning as she did so.

  After the blade left the humanoid construct’s chest, the hole was quickly refilled like all the other wounds she had inflicted over the past hour. Miwa didn’t really know why it repaired itself, but she had more pressing things on her mind than pondering over whatever machination of cursed energy had done this.

  Letting out a breath of air—a sigh conjoined with a pout—Miwa walked towards the room's wall. Placing the rapier back where she had gotten it from before stepping back. Her eyes darted across the vast array of weapons that hung on the wall, lingering slightly on the ones she had tried.

  It had taken her very little time to locate the school's armory. Though admittedly none of the barriers that usually hid the important rooms were present, even still the ease of her search took Miwa by surprise. After arriving, she was shocked into a slight stupor at just how many cursed tools were present. There were enough sharp implements to equip a small army.

  After breaking free from her trance, Miwa started to systematically equip herself with said implements one by one. Taking a few swings with them in the air, then moving on to attacking the infinitely repairing dummy that was in the room. Since arriving, Miwa had tried more weapons than most would in a lifetime: daggers, rapiers, scimitars, khopeshes, and a bunch more Miwa couldn’t name. Despite all that—

  “I’m not any closer to finding a good fit,” Miwa felt her arms drop and her face morph into a frown as she let out a sigh. Such gestures being an outlet for her frustrations

  Having followed Kashimo’s advice, Miwa had kept her eyes on weapons that were lightweight, attempting to capitalize on her inherent agility. While she had found a few decent picks, they all were lacking in some way or another that made Miwa hesitant to commit to them.

  A pair of daggers was probably the second best choice Miwa had tried, despite all their flaws. While quick, they were short and kept her range limited, working against her simple domain. Throwing them instead of stabbing when entering a domain's range was an option Miwa briefly considered but ruled out soon after. Throwing them from such a short distance would quickly grow predictable against the same foe, not to mention the disadvantages of letting go of your weapon mid-battle.

  The best choice Miwa had found was scimitars. They had been tricky for Miwa to get the hang of swinging since the blades were curved, but after a few minutes she reasoned herself to have found proper form. They had a greater range than a dagger and held nearly the same speed. Seemingly the ideal choice, like Kashimo had mentioned—so then why?

  “Why’d it feel so wrong?” tilting her head as her eyes lingered on the curved blades. Miwa pondered the possible reasons for her strange feelings of mistrust.

  Picking up the dual scimitars again. Miwa experimentally took a step forward and slashed at the dummy, severing its head in a flash. Miwa turned away and held the blade near her face. Scrutinizing the weapon to see if it held some sort of blemish, to no avail of course.

  It's got more speed than my sword, but only a little. I can get a lot faster with proper technique, obviously. Still, it just doesn't feel right. Like there’s something missing.

  Miwa frowned at the annoyance she felt from her own arbitrary assessment. What did feeling right even mean? Kashimo said she should keep trying till she found something that met such a strange qualifier. Yet she had no idea what that even meant.

  Miwa racked the blades and took a step back, letting her gaze wander on the wall full of armaments to see what they would be drawn to. Her mind wandered before long.

  I only ever wielded a sword because Kusukabe told me to. Thinking back on it, that didn’t really feel ‘right’ either. Kashimo told me a dagger or scimitar might fit me better. is that why they don’t fit?

  Miwa started walking to the entrance to the small room as she pondered the answer. Not paying attention to the things her eyes came across.

  He said I need to find the box I fit in with, but I don’t really know what that is. All my life I just… drifted. To school, then to jujutsu sorcery; even at Kyoko, I just followed the steps walked by those in front of me.

  Miwa took in a breath of air as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. Her gaze refocusing on the weapons splayed before her.

  Alright then. In order to find where and what suits me, I need to be the one to take the first step forward for once. What do I even step towards, though? It’s not like I can reinvent Jujutsu. But up until now I’ve only been choosing based on what others say or what I see them use. So then—

  “Alright, Kasumi Miwa, what do you want?”

  Voicing the self-imposed question aloud, Miwa tried her best to empty her mind of everyone else and focus solely on the weapons in front of her. Her eyes wandered the wall for a few seconds, prepared to give up after a dozen more had passed with no results. Right when her search neared its end, Miwa’s eyes began to linger on a particular armament.

  At first it stood out to her simply because she had never heard of a sorcerer fighting with anything like it. Then her mind began to picture herself wielding it, an image that caused her to let out a chuckle at the juxtaposition. Right when she was about to dismiss the item, the words Kashimo told her surfaced again in her mind. Causing her to linger as she began to consider the affinity of the weapon in conjunction with her fighting style.

  Miwa walked up to it and grasped its hilt in her hand, the cool leather taking her by surprise for a moment. Using both her hands, Miwa retrieved it from the wall. Not doing much else other than looking down at it pensively.

  It’ll be unorthodox for sure… but If I can use it how I imagine, I just might be able to—

  “So that's your pick?”

  “AH!”

  Miwa dropped her newly acquired cursed tool as she jumped back, turning towards the new voice as she did so. Miwa let out a sigh of relief after she found Kashimo leaning against the doorway with an arched eyebrow.

  “Don’t scare me like that.” Miwa bent down to grab her ‘Pick’ as she felt her nerves calm.

  “It wasn’t my intention to startle you.” Kashimo took a step forward as he shrugged.

  “Could have fooled me,” Miwa grumbled the words underneath her breath as she crossed her arms over her chest, glancing to her side to not meet his gaze.

  Why am I acting so outgoing with him? Normally I’m reserved and too nervous to say anything. It’s how Mai always pushed me around, and I always got swept up in whatever the other students wanted. It’s not like we know each other well or have a person in common who pushed us together. So then why—

  “Well, is it?”

  Miwa looked back to Kashimo as his voice rose again. He had stepped into the armory fully now, standing a few feet in front of Miwa with his hands in his pockets.

  —Why do I feel like I can be myself around him?

  “Yeah, I think so. I haven’t tried it yet, but I think it’ll work really well If I can use it properly.” Miwa felt herself smile faintly as she ran her hand along its length.

  “Honestly, It’s the last weapon I ever would have thought you’d use.”

  “What, why?”

  Miwa felt a surge of panic course through her at his statement. Taking a step forward towards him as she nearly shouted the question at him. Miwa thought she had accounted for everything when selecting her presently held weapon, but it seemed the veteran warrior before her had realized something she hadn’t. Whatever it was, she hoped it wouldn’t put her at too much of a disadvantage. It would be hard enough trying to get the hang of everything quickly enough to be of help as it was.

  “Well, you just… Seem too nice for such a cruel instrument.” Kashimo looked away from Miwa’s intense gaze as he elaborated, rubbing the back of his head with his free hand all the while.

  “Oh… Well, I had the same thought at first, but I think it’ll work well with my simple domain and everything else you told me.”

  “That it probably will.”

  “... Wait, why are you here anyway? I thought you were still playing on my phone.”

  “... I was, but I got bored of the game and came to ask you for a good recommendation.”

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “...”

  “Ok then…” After what seemed like an eternity, Miwa decided to not press him on such a blatant lie.

  She began to reach out her hand to ask for her phone back when suddenly the ground began to shake. Causing her to fall backwards, butt first, onto the floor, she let out a groan in discomfort upon landing. Her outlet for the slight pain that coursed through her back was quickly drowned out in a cacophony of metal banging.

  The weapons that adorned the walls shook, as did the walls themselves. The banging only lasted a moment as the countless sharp instruments were thrown off the wall unceremoniously. Not caring for a wide-eyed Miwa, who was frozen stiff as she saw them all begin to fall down on her.

  Miwa shut her eyes tight as she brought both her hands in front of her face on instinct. The more rational part of her brain knew that they’d do very little as obstructions in the face of so many swords, but her current choice of weapon was even more ill-suited to stopping them than her arms.

  The seconds ticked by as Miwa braced for the oncoming collision, only for it never to occur. Hesitantly she cracked open her eyes and let her arms fall away to see what had happened. Unexpectedly it seemed she was right-side up again, looking into the armory—whose floor was now cluttered with countless cursed tools—from a higher vantage point than she was normally accustomed to.

  “You good?”

  Miwa turned her head in the direction of the soft voice positioned near her head. Being met with blue eyes as she did so. Craning her neck further, she was able to see Kashimo’s arm and the hand positioned on the back of her shirt that was being used to hoist her half a foot off the ground.

  “Yeah, thanks for saving me.” Miwa gave a light smile as she offered her thanks. Trying her best to not let her frustration at needing to be saved again leak out and be taken for ingratitude.

  “It’s nothing. You should probably work on your balance and core. It’s crucial for a simple domain user’s feet to remain firmly planted on the ground lest they give up their biggest advantage. Though you were caught by surprise, so your physique may not be the issue, and it’s instead a matter of your psyche,” Kashimo’s head tilted as he gave the reasons why Miwa’s fall could have occurred.

  “...Thanks for the advice?” Miwa meant to sound grateful, but her words instead came out shaky. Unable to hide her confusion as to why the reincarnated sorcerer was bothering to give her such criticism.

  “It’s nothing, I just… get annoyed at wasted potential…” Kashimo’s voice trailed off as he finished, breaking away from her gaze as well.

  His words seemed like a mix of an excuse and the truth to Miwa’s ears, but she was far from dumb enough to comment on it. Instead, she decided to dedicate her mental faculties to not completely getting lost in the implication of his words. Trying and failing to contain the hopeful smile that traced her face.

  “Sorry about your phone, by the way. I had to let go of it to grab you.”

  “Oh, it’s nothing. I’m feeling rather glad you prioritized me over it after all, hehe.” Miwa gave a nervous chuckle in a rather dull attempt to loosen the tension in her body.

  “Of course I did. I’m a warrior, not some monster out of a fairy tale.”

  “Yeah, I’m… I realize that now… So, um, could you… put me down now?”

  “Oh, yeah, sorry.”

  Miwa felt Kashimo’s grip slacken as her feet returned to the ground. She let out a sigh of relief as she landed. Turning and beginning to walk out of the room, turning around again after a few steps when she realized Kashimo should know why.

  “I’ll see you later; I’m going to go practice with this and see if I can get the hang of it,” Holding up her new weapon with both arms, Miwa gave a light smile as she explained her goal.

  “I wouldn’t bother with that now.”

  “Huh?”

  “Trying to get a mastery over it now. I’m saying that would be a waste of your time.”

  “...Why?”

  “Do you have any idea at all of how to properly use it?”

  “Well… not really.” Miwa flushed as she admitted her unfamiliarity with it, feeling the urge to fidget under such direct scrutiny.

  “I thought so. Anyway, from what I’ve been able to gather, this place is interconnected with a bunch of different sorcerers. I’m willing to bet if you ask around, you’ll be able to find someone who can teach you how to use it efficiently. Attempting to get used to it on your own would be a most unproductive expense of your limited time.”

  “Oh… Yeah, you’re right.”

  “In the meantime, you can work on your simple domain and cursed energy fundamentals… If you’d like, I could give you some advice after seeing how you are now.”

  “You’re… going to teach me?”

  “I don’t have much else to do. I may not look it, but I’m technically an eighty-year-old man. I have wisdom and all that crap to pass down.”

  “...Why? It’s not that I’m not grateful for you bothering to help me, but surely there are people a lot better than me here who could benefit more from your guidance than I ever could.”

  “I doubt that. From what I’ve seen, most people here seem to be experienced sorcerers. It’s harder to teach someone strong than someone who’s weak.”

  “Yeah…”

  Miwa's shoulders slumped as what was probably an unintended insult reached her ears. A frown formed on her face as her eyes drifted towards the floor. She didn’t have long to stew in self-deprecation, a hand being placed on her shoulder, which knocked her out of her stupor. Looking up, her eyes met with Kashimo’s, who was now only a few feet away.

  “Don’t worry so much about where you are now. Being weak just means you have a lot of room left to improve. Judge yourself based on where you end up, not how you are while working towards your destination.”

  “You may not look it, but you sure do talk like an eighty-year-old,” Miwa cracked a slight smile as the words left her mouth.

  “Huh? How so?”

  “You just say a lot of wise stuff, is all. It’s kind of cool,” Miwa’s eyes twinkled with no small amount of amazement towards the sorcerer before her.

  “No need to give me so much credit. I’m mostly just paraphrasing things an old—”

  Kashimo’s body went stiff as his voice suddenly went silent. Miwa tilted her head and furrowed her brows at the tension that enveloped his body. He quickly withdrew the hand he had placed on Miwa’s shoulder and walked past her towards the door.

  “I’ll meet you outside,” Kashimo spoke those four words darkly before turning the corner and vanishing from Miwa’s sight.

  Miwa let her gaze linger on the doorway while her mind wandered. Attempting to understand what had brought out such a tonal shift in his behavior. Ultimately, Miwa’s search ended with her walking out after a minute or so, having come up with no answers to the reasons behind his actions.

  The answers Miwa sought would soon become known to her. Looking back, she wasn’t quite sure how the two had been drawn together. The two were practically polar opposites in every way imaginable. Kashimo was strong, unashamed, and dependable. Miwa was weak, bashful, and, in her own opinion, useless.

  Despite these inherent differences, Miwa would be forever grateful for the time the two would spend together. Despite all the pain that would be wrought because of it.

  “I see… that’s certainly quite the interesting tale, I admit,” Leaning back further against the wall, Shinji reluctantly admitted to intrigue behind what could correlate to his life story.

  “You think I’m lying?” Standing in front of him with their arms crossed was Uruame. The one who had just wrapped up telling him everything they knew about his past.

  “Not particularly. Your story matches up with everything I know and fills in some gaps.”

  “Alright, your turn. What do you know about Kodoku that I don’t?” Uruame’s eyes narrowed towards them as they tapped their foot impatiently.

  Shinji couldn’t really blame them for such a showing, though. They were supposed to have discussed this yesterday after getting back, but their little scuffle had kicked up so much dust that cursed spirits kept coming one after the other. They were far from being an actual threat, each being dispatched with no more than a single stone—or building-sized icicle in Uruame’s case—but by the end of the ordeal, Shinji had felt more worn out than he had in… well, literally ages.

  In accordance, he had requested they postpone their talk till tomorrow when he would be properly rested. It was a request Uruame had reluctantly agreed to through gritted teeth. After that, Shinji had gone straight to bed, all but collapsing on the couch in the room he had been pseudo-interrogated in. Only to awaken and almost immediately be dragged out by Uruame to have their conversation.

  It had been somewhat annoying at first, but his annoyance was quickly overshadowed by curiosity to learn more about his origin. As such, he had been listening intently to Uruame speak. He was grateful towards them for shedding light on the things in his past that were shrouded in mystery, things he never would have known otherwise. Hence, he wanted to repay this kindness in kind, however—

  “Sorry, but you know everything that I know and then some. If you want further elaboration, you’ll have to force the words from Kenjaku’s rotten tounge.”

  “That’s fine. I don’t really care about how it all went down in the broad strokes; I just need you to tell me about Sukuna.”

  “Right… I always thought Souzou was full of himself, but giving Ryomen a new name for such a dumb reason is a new level of audacity. Anyway, what do you want to know about him in particular? I've known him for most of my life, but we're far from what I would call close.”

  “I Just… I just want to know what Sukuna was like before he was Sukuna.” Uruame’s eyes looked down as they spoke in a quiet voice. It stirred feelings inside Shinji that he was powerless to place. Ones he was probably better off without.

  “Well, Ryomen was… I don't know, normal?”

  “Normal?”

  “Normal,” Shinji shrugged as he confirmed his lackluster answer.

  “Ryomen was pretty much the same as the rest of us in the beginning. He was stronger than the rest of us by a little, but other than that, there wasn’t really anything distinct about him that pops to my mind. Well… I guess he was Uro’s favorite; that rubbed some people the wrong way, but I didn’t really care. Then…” Shinji’s voice trailed off, his eyes cloudy as if he was focusing on something distant.

  “Then what?”

  “Then came the… ‘original draft of the culling game,’ as you put it. Everyone lost something that day; Ryomen wasn’t an exception. He became more cold and distant; all of us did, but with him it was special. His eyes became desolate and hollow, light only shining behind them whenever he was engrossed in battle. He also started to actually eat the people we killed… which was—”

  “How were they prepared for him?”

  “Huh?

  “His meals. Who prepared them, and how was it done?”

  “He ripped off the limbs of corpses… took them with him, then lit them on fire with his technique before eating them… Has he changed his methods since then?”

  “Somewhat. I prepare most of Sukuna’s meals; he told me once I was the first person to do so. I was curious if that was actually the case.”

  “...why?” Shinji Arched an eyebrow as he asked the question.

  “Because it means I’m the only person who’s had the honor of preparing Sukuna’s meals,” Uruame smiled smugly as they declared the exclusivity of the position they held.

  “I don’t really get it, but whatever makes you happy, I guess,” Shinji simply sighed at the display. Not bothering to think about the reason why they took such joy at the realization.

  “When we were fighting. You mentioned you hated Sukuna. Why—”

  “He killed my sister.”

  Uruame’s eyes widened slightly at the near-instant response. Their voice went silent for a few moments before speaking again.

  “I’m aware… not to sound insensitive, but I don’t think it’s appropriate to call the ones you were raised beside your family. While you can’t choose blood, family is a different matter. You don’t have to feel—”

  “I don’t consider any of them my family simply because we share a parent. Chiyomi is a different matter; the bond we shared ran thicker than our father’s putrid blood. She is my sister… no matter how much I’m sure she hated me when she departed from this world.”

  “I understand… I’m sorry for the haphazard words I said. I just find the notion of unconditional love between those related by birth or blood to be nothing more than a fairy tale. People shouldn’t torture themselves over things they're meant to feel.”

  “It’s fine. My sisters are in the past, after all. Staying stuck on it won’t do me any good.”

  “... before when you mentioned Sukuna seemed ordinary. Do you think he was happy?”

  “Happy? I guess he was. It’s not like he seemed particularly unhappy after that day. Why do you ask?”

  “I… I want Sukuna to go back to being how he was before,” Uruame hesitated before giving their answer. Biting down on their lip ever so slightly.

  “Before?”

  “Before I knew him. Before he had claimed his crown as the strongest. Before that bastard had pushed the most heinous curse onto him.”

  “Well, best of luck to you. I’m attempting to prove him wrong as we—”

  “That’s not why I’m trying to do this,” Ururame’s eyes filled with resolve as they cut Shinji off.

  “I could care less that Kenjaku told me all of this simply to try and entertain him. To see if I could exceed his damned expectations. I’m just repaying a debt I owe him for everything he did for me. That’s why you’re the only person who I can ask to help me with this; you knew what he was like before Sukuna became the king of curses. You’re the key to unraveling the curse he’s bound by. So please… just help me save him.”

  Shinji felt his mouth go dry at the heartfelt plea the person before him made. It was unfair—there were simply no other words to describe it. He was supposed to be moving on, not falling deeper into the hellhole that had been that place. Not only that, he was supposed to hate Ryomen. He had killed his sister, one of the two people in the world

  he had come to cherish. He wasn’t supposed to feel bad for him. Let alone try and actually help him, but yet—

  Shinji’s internal dilemma was drowned out by the shaking of the floor. No, the entire building seemed to begin to shake. Items were thrown off of shelves, and dust began to fall down from the sky. The people who had been calmly packing their items in preparation to leave the colony today turned frantic. Shouting in fear they would all be crushed.

  Shiji could only stare up towards the ceiling helplessly, silently willing it not to fall and crush the few people he had come close to recently. When he saw the roof begin to creak ever so slightly, a sigh of defeat left his lips. Only for his worry to be overcome by relief in the next instant—mixed with a slight chill.

  Frost began to cover the ceiling, acting as a makeshift barrier to hold it up. Looking around, Shinji could see several pillars of ice coming out of the ground to connect to the roof to act as a further brace. One such pillar was a few feet in front of him. Looking down, Uruame had knelt down to the floor in order to place their hands upon it. Trails of frost formed across the ground and connected to the pillars they had conjured.

  “Thanks.”

  “It’s nothing. Anyway… will you help me?” Calmly dismissing the many lives they had just undoubtedly saved. Uruame stood and once again asked for his assistance in providing aid to what might be the biggest monster in the history of the world.

  “...If I’m being honest, I don’t know what I could possibly help with in this particular endeavor, but I’ll give you whatever aid I can.”

  “Thank you—”

  “That being said, there’s one small thing I would like to ask you in return.” Shinji crossed his arms as he ignored Uruame’s frivolous thanks; he wasn’t doing this out of the kindness of his heart. Hence, there was no need to thank him for a simple, selfish course of action.

  “Whatever you ask, I shall comply,” Uruame didn’t hesitate as they agreed to whatever Shinji might ask. It seemed their dedication to repaying their debt truly ran deep.

  “It’s going to take a few days for these people to leave the colony. I’d like to stay with them until they do. After that, I’d like you to take me to Kenjaku.”

  “... Very well. He’ll be beside Sukuna. So if you're going to try to kill him, It’ll prove difficult.”

  “I assure you, Uruame. I’m not going to try.”

  “I should kill you, Kenjaku.”

  “Good morning to you as well, Uro. It’s been a millennium and some change since our last meeting, though from your perspective it’s just been a few weeks, I suppose. Regardless, I’m glad to see you after so long.” Kenjaku let a light smile cross their face as they gave Uro a mock greeting.

  Uro responded to Kenjaku’s grin with a scowl. She was standing opposite of Kenjkau, leaning against the wall outside his door with her arms crossed. The temptation rose within Kenjaku to ask just how long she had been standing there waiting for him to awaken, but before he could act on this minor curiosity, Uro went ahead and spoke again.

  “Unlike last time, there’s nothing preventing me from ripping your brain out of that carcass.” Uro moved her hands down to emphasize her threat. The air dragged along with them as she used her technique to make space a surface.

  “Certainly, but unlike last time, you’ll find I’ve arranged myself to be well suited for conflict. Fighting me directly will end with you being gradually worn down, and my skills with barriers haven’t dulled over the centuries. As such, you won’t bother attacking me with your domain. You know all this, of course, so I’d prefer it if you dropped the farce. What exactly did you wish to discuss?”

  The space Uro had grabbed dispersed as she took a step forward. The two were a few feet apart, and Kenjaku was forced to crane his head up in order to meet Uro’s gaze given her rather large size. Kenjaku didn’t feel intimidated by the position he held, nor did it show in his posture, an uncaring smile never leaving his face.

  “You really think people will believe those rules you added?”

  “Why not? Nobody has a reason to doubt them like you.”

  “Maybe not, but—”

  “This isn’t what you wanted to ask me,” Kenjaku sighed and gave a slight frown as he interrupted her.

  “Go ahead, Uro, you can say it,” He gave a sly, knowing smile as he requested Uro to ask that which must surely be on her mind.

  “... Why haven’t you tried to kill me?” Narrowing her eyes slightly, the question left Uro’s mouth with a baited breath.

  “Hmm, put simply. I don’t feel the need to end your life.”

  “I find that hard to believe considering the things you’ve told me.”

  “It’ll be fine. You won’t break the vow we made since if you do, they’ll both probably die. Besides, I’m curious if you can manage to do it. Uruame didn’t have much luck either, but the two of you together may just have the tiniest of chances,” Kenjaku made a pinching motion with his right hand as he mentioned the impossibility of what the pair of foolish sorcerers sought. Though he himself was in part hoping for their success, that in itself would be quite the magnificent sight after all.

  “Uruame wants to help Ryomen?”

  “That they do. You weren’t the only one who decided to walk quite the foolish path. In fact, while you might be the pioneer of the road. They’ve been walking it far longer than you. From their perspective, It’s been about eight years since I told them everything and they decided to follow in your footsteps, Uro.”

  “...You told them everything?”

  “Ah, well. I suppose I did lie about Shinji and Chiyomi being alive, and I neglected to mention Sukuna’s true purpose. They should be returning in a couple of days along with Shinji if all goes well. I recommend planning your next steps centered around their return. Now then, I’m afraid I’ll have to excuse myself. There’s something quite important that should be happening soon. I’d hate to ruin my view of it by staying cooped up in here.” Kenjaku gave one last teasing smile as he began to walk off.

  “Know this, Kenjaku. Things won’t go how you want them.”

  “You know that’s the best part, Uro,” Kenjaku turned to meet Uro. A rare smile of genuine thrill was found on his lips.

  “Even if they don’t. I still get what I want. Whether I win or whether I lose is irrelevant. A chain of events I’ve spent hundreds of years building is finally about to kick off. Being able to see what is left behind from it is in itself my victory.”

  “That so? Well, I’ll promise you this. You won’t live to see what’s left behind from the mess you’ve made. Someone—maybe not me, but someone—will send you off to the depths of hell before then, and you’ll be left to torture yourself for all eternity knowing you never got to see the ending. The ending where all your damned schemes come crashing down—The ending where you’ve lost,” Uros’s voice remained level during The declaration. An irony that Kenjaku found amusing when compared with the silent fury that blazed behind her gaze.

  “I’ll be looking forward to it then, Uro,” Kenjaku said his goodbyes as his legs carried him away to witness the return of a monster.

  Walking through the empty city, Chiyomi couldn’t help but feel unnerved by the quietness. She could hear every stride she took as her feet connected with the ground. The colony she had originated from was likely the same as this, but she had kept herself confined to the bathhouse for nearly all her time there. As such, the distinct emptiness of the colonies was unbeknownst to her.

  She had intended to simply get some air and get away from the three people she didn’t want to be around, but her attempt to find relief was quite unsuccessful. Chiyomi had left the place around noon intentionally to bask in the overhead sun, but thick clouds covered the sky as far as the eye could see. It gave the area a distinct feeling of melancholy that only served to drive her further up the wall.

  Letting out a drawn-out sigh, she began to walk back towards their… base—Such was the word Chiyomi found to best describe her current place of residence.

  It took her a few minutes to return. After reaching her destination, yet another sigh left her lips. It was difficult to blame the girl for her reaction. The person she hated most in the world was smiling gently towards her after all.

  “Good morning, Chiyomi.”

  “... What are you doing?” Chiyomi stopped a few feet in front of Kenjaku. Deciding to ask him why he was standing outside alone for seemingly no particular reason.

  “Waiting. That trump card I mentioned is about to come into play. I don’t want to miss when it does.”

  “Uh huh, you do that; I’m going to head back to bed.” Chiyomi walked past him while she dismissed his usual vague yet cryptic manner of speech.

  “Sleep, really? I find such an action from you surprising. You are aware that Uro is here, yes?”

  “I am, what about it?”

  Chiyomi stopped her walk as she turned to face Kenjaku, who in kind turned to face her.

  “Aren’t there any words you wish to exchange with her? Confirmations of my story? Let out your frustrations over what was done to you. Maybe—”

  “I have nothing to say to her. If everything you told me is the truth, which it probably is. Uro’s probably in far more pain than I’ve ever been. Still… I don’t forgive her, so I won’t give her the chance to apologize. It’s her just reward for standing by and letting you and Souzou have your way with us... You think that makes me even worse than you, Kenjaku?”

  Chiyomi tilted her head ever so slightly before she asked Kenjaku her question. In her own mind she found her treatment of Uro to be quite cruel. That being said, even if it was only indirectly, Uro was still the reason why she had suffered so much, and that was something she found hard to forgive.

  No—that’s not quite right. While Uro is to blame, she’s just another victim of a larger machine. At the end of the day it really is—

  “Hmm… I admit I find it hard to say. While it’s undoubtedly Uro’s existence that enabled me to act on my plans to create Sukuna. I think having her take responsibility for it all is quite unjust. I’m far more to blame than she is, and I think that’s something you’re well aware of.” Kenjaku smiled his ever carefree smile as he finished giving his thoughts.

  Chiyomi clenched down on her molars at his words. She was about to walk away before he pissed her off further—when suddenly the ground began to shake.

  “What in the—”

  The rumbling of the earth stopped as quickly as it began, leaving Chiyomi confused as to what it was supposed to be.

  “It seems they’ve undone the seal. It should be any minute now.”

  “Any minute till wha—”

  Chiyomi’s question was interrupted as a strong gust of wind blew into her face. The sound of glass shattering and the whistling of wind passing through objects filled her ears in the next instant, completely drowning out her voice. She stumbled back a few steps from the sheer force of the breeze that collided with her, eyes closing from the surprise of it all.

  she opened them again after she found her footing, only to quickly shut them once more. Bringing her hand over her eyes to shield them from the sudden change in light. She wasn’t quite sure how, but the thick clouds that hung overhead had seemingly vanished, letting the sun’s rays shine through and bear down on her unadjusted eyes.

  “I had placed the prison realm deep within Mount Oakan after Tengen told me about that back's existence. I figured a combination of the heat and pressure would have killed you should you ever be let out, but it seems I was woefully optimistic.”

  Blinking rapidly, Chiyomi lifted her gaze up in order to see what exactly had occurred. After doing so, she could only stare in stunned silence, her mouth dropping at the absolute absurdity of what her eyes were met with.

  Chiyomi could very easily see what had occurred to the clouds that had been obstructing the sun's rays. They had not vanished like she originally had thought; instead, they had been blown what seemed like miles to her left and right. Leaving behind a streak of blue in the sky that the sun shone through.

  Tilting her head slightly down, Chiyomi managed to finally notice the source of the cataclysm. After doing so, Chiyomi felt her entire body fill with the need to flee—to run as far away as she possibly could from this place. It was a feeling of utter dread, one that only one person had ever managed to inspire in her before. If you could even call him, or the thing that stood before her currently, a person.

  “Still, I’m glad you managed to survive.”

  Kenjaku spoke with the same level of calmness as he always did. Chiyomi found it to be a feat that defied all sense of reason. For how anyone could remain calm when directly faced with the gaze of what stood before them was beyond her. She was not the target of It’s focus like Kenjaku was, and she could barely suppress the urge to vomit.

  “It’s far more interesting this way.”

  Kenjaku’s head tilted up as he continued to calmly speak to the one whose azure eyes looked down on him in fury. A being that ignored countless things as he raced across the country to find him. The countless sorcerers he saw roaming across the nation, the utterly destroyed cities—he had even ignored his own students as he thoughtlessly soared across the skies to reach this place. For all those things were secondary to exacting his vengeance on the man who had defiled one of the few things in this world he held sacred.

  “Welcome back, Satoru.”

  Splitting both the heavens and earth asunder—the strongest sorcerer of the modern age had arrived.