...he's not dead? Or maybe he is, and this is hell.

A spine, and ribs, enormous and extending forwards and backwards into unseen distances. The floor is covered with—red liquid, looks and feels like blood, but his shoes aren't getting stained. Magic blood.

And Ryōmen Sukuna, king of curses, wearing his body, with the various markings visible where the long, loose kimono he's wearing isn't covering his skin (maybe the reason he keeps ripping Itadori's shirt off is just because he prefers looser clothing, rather than really enjoying being shirtless per se), is sitting atop a throne of bones which itself is the appex of a mountain of Yet More Bones, the centerpiece of this location.

"I have to give it to you," Itadori says, looking up at the curse, "this place is really aesthetic."

Sukuna laughs and leans forward on his throne, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin on his interlaced fingers. "Figure it out, did you?"

"We are in your Innate Domain. And I am not... completely dead? No reason for you to be wearing my body otherwise."

He laughs again and leans back onto his throne, clapping slowly as he crosses his left leg over his right one. "Right in one! Maybe you're smarter than I gave you credit for."

Itadori shrugs. "I am one of the protagonists of this anime, after all. And... I figure I am not the boring kind where the viewer's meant to just generically project themself onto me, I have a proper personality and all."

"You know," says Sukuna, tilting his head a bit and looking up at the—not exactly ceiling. Bone cage? "I was expecting you to have attacked me by now or something."

"You," he says, pointing at Sukuna, "are about to offer me some conditions to heal my heart and bring me back to life. And then we will haggle over them but I will inevitably accept them, and the plot can continue."

"Am I so predictable?" asks the king of curses, leaping from his throne and landing on the water in front of Itadori. He folds his arms behind his back and starts slowly making a circle around him. "You seem to think we're in a story. It almost makes me want to withdraw the offer I haven't even made yet."

"But you will not, because you have a huge crush on Fushiguro and Hayashi. Do not deny it, I saw it all. You're interested in seeing where they go, next. Aren't you?"

"Maybe! And I could be taking an interest in you, too."

"Say, four arms, four eyes, who knows how many mouths—do you also have...?" and he lowers his right hand to his groin area, two fingers extended out.

Sukuna laughs, again. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Well, I mean, I figure, we're in your Innate Domain for a while anyway, maybe you could have your way with me and I would not even be dead on the other side of it so whatever deal we gotta make can still go through."

He sighs and shakes his head, still pacing a circle. "This is nowhere near as fun if you're willing."

"Are you saying Ryōmen Sukuna, king of curses, isn't creative enough to make me regret my choices even in his own Innate Domain?"

Faster than the eyes can track, Sukuna slaps Itadori hard enough to send him crashing onto one of the ribs surrounding them. "Mind your tongue, brat."

Itadori slides down from the rib onto the water but starts laughing, wiping some blood from his lips with the back of his sleeve as he does. "Is that the best you can do? I guess I really am disappointed, four arms and two dicks and you can't even make me scream."

Sukuna is in front of Itadori in a fraction of a second, but rather than hitting Itadori some more, he narrows his eyes and leans forward. "You find this enjoyable, don't you?" He reaches a hand and grabs Itadori by the crotch. "You actually enjoy this, you disgusting little brat."

He doesn't quite manage to hold back the whimper of—pain, pleasure, who knows—when Sukuna squeezes him there. "A sadistic king of curses possessing a masochistic boy with not a drop of sense in his head," he says, nodding. "Yes, Sukuna-sama. Maybe you could rip my cock off? That would make me scream, alright, and probably hurt in a bad way. And I would still survive, wouldn't I? I would make... so many pretty noises for you..." He leans closer to the curse's face. "You could fuck me with those two dicks, I bet they're huge, I bet you could fuck me in the ass and in the hole you just tore in my groin—"

Sukuna slaps Itadori again, hard enough Itadori's neck actually cracks from the force of the blow before he even lands and falls limply on the water. "You're boring me," says the curse, frowning.

It takes him a couple of seconds, but eventually he laughs, again. "Oh, fuck, that hurt a lot. And you broke my spine, you asshole, I can't even feel my dick anymore."

Sukuna steps over to Itadori, impossibly quickly again, and with a snap of his fingers Itadori's spine is healed, only for him to be able to feel the pain of Sukuna's stepping onto his crotch, but even more importantly the pain of the claws on the curse's right hand impaling him on the left shoulder.

"Nnngh, yes, Sukuna-sama, more—!"

Ow ow ow that hurts a lot it's hot but it hurts a fuckton holy shit—

He leans forward, close to Itadori's face, and says, in a low voice: "My conditions: when I chant 'extension', you'll hand over your body for one minute; and you will forget you made this pact with me."

"Magic pact, is this? One you cannot," he groans with the pain of trying to talk while impaled, "break?"

"Yes."

"Alright, now try again, trying to convince me."

Sukuna sighs and withdraws his claws before stepping away, folding his arms behind his back once more as he walks back to his throne. "Fine. I'll promise I won't kill or injure anyone else during that minute."

"Through action or inaction," says Itadori, breathing more raggedly now that his wound is left to bleed.

"I beg your pardon?"

"If anyone within your awareness, field or view, whatever, is being hurt and you could save them, you save them. If you are in the middle of a fight and stopping the fight would make people be hurt, you keep fighting. You prioritise humans over curses' wellbeing, you try to stop fights, you do not harm or kill anyone or let them be harmed or killed by failing to help."

"I am the most powerful being in the world," he sighs. "If I wanted to, I could stop most horrible things happening in this country. I could get anywhere fast and stop it. And my mere existence is offensive to people, are you going to include psychological harm there, too? That condition is worse than useless to me."

"Stop acting stupid. You know I do not mean you have to stop every case of domestic abuse in Tokyo during that minute and I'm not gonna ask you to be anyone's psychiatrist. Just do your best, according to what you think I mean, and we are good."

"Fine. I accept your revised conditions."

"Awesome! Can we fuck no—"

But he is interrupted by Sukuna slicing his head in two.

Ieiri Shoko prepares her tools in silence, as both Ijichi and Gojō seem content to not talk while she does it, respectively standing next to and sitting on a bench by the door.

"I'm about to start," she says as she turns around to look at them. "You're gonna watch from there?"

And Itadori sits up.

"... Apparently not, no. Hello, Tokan. Welcome back."

    Ieiri blinks and turns around to look at the no-longer-a-corpse.

"Thank you, Sensei! Good to be back!" says Itadori, grinning.

    "I'm kind of disappointed, I had so many tests I wanted to run on you," sighs Ieiri.

        ("H-h-he's alive!!!!!" repeats Ijichi over and over in shock.)

"Oh, I'm naked," he notices.

"But isn't this result ultimately more interesting? And if he dies again you'll get another chance at his corpse!" Pause. "Ijichi, stop stating the obvious and go find him something to wear."

She sighs and shrugs. "Well, I suppose it would have been too easy to be able to examine Sukuna's vessel just like that."

    Ijichi meanwhile nods many times and goes to fetch something for Itadori.

"He'll likely have eaten more fingers if you get another chance to look. There will be more to see! But I want that to be far, far in the future. Accordingly, please don’t revise any of your reports, he needs to stay dead for a while.”

"Stay dead?" he asks.

    Ieiri tilts her head. "You mean to hide him?"

“Yeah, I do. At least until he can’t be so easily assassinated by a special grade. Because that’s what happened, if it wasn’t clear, Tokan-kun.”

"I guess Sukuna did kill me," he says, lowering his hand to his crotch and pointing two fingers out, "but seems weird to call it assassination."

    Here's Ijichi with clothing.

“…. No. I mean, he did ultimately kill you, but. That ‘assignment’ was a trap. The jujutsu equivalent of telling you to go play in traffic. On the highway. Especially since you’re a vessel, and anything that might become a special grade probably will when you walk in.” Gojo tilts his head. “What are you doing with your hand?”

He stops doing it to accept the clothing but frowns. "Well, he probably has two dicks doesn't he? But I don't know why I... went for that."

"Hm." Gojo settles back in to his seat, frowning. "Did you... talk to him? Make any sort of deal for him to fix your heart?"

"When? Didn't have much time to chat between the special grade and getting killed."

"Soul to soul, after dying, but before either soul had moved on. Well. If you don't remember anything, you don't remember anything."

"Oh. I don't—" Pause. Frown. "I do. I don't know what we talked about, memory's fuzzy."

"Ahuh. For the record, kid, that's alarming."

Gojo sounds more delighted by the novelty than alarmed, though.

"Yeah no I... I am kind of alarmed. I did not know he could erase memories."

    "He can't," says Ieiri as she pulls her gloves off and starts packing her tools again. "Not without your consent. Whatever you forgot, you chose to."

"Huh. Uh, who are you? I usually like to be at least one of awake or clothed when meeting people for the first time..."

    "Ieiri Shoko, jujutsu medic," she explains. "I was the one who patched your friends up after the special grade and Sukuna were done with them."

Itadori flinches at that.

Gojo stands and moves to pat Tokan's head. Pat, pat.

"It's okay. They're alive and not permanently injured. Sukuna was playing, not trying to kill them or maim them. I won't say they're fine, but they're recovering well."

"Can I see them?"

"... Kid. It's not that I don't trust them, because I do. They absolutely proved that they have what it takes to be serious sorcerers, and serious friends, too. I think they'd both sooner cut off their own arm than betray you, and I have no intention of keeping you away from them for years and never letting them know you got better. But. They are teenagers up against some of the most vicious, petty, powerful people in Japan. People that play these sorts of spy games for a living, and have been doing it for years. What does it look like if both of them are surprisingly fine with your death? The key to keeping things secret is to not tell anyone."

"...they could. Act?"

"Convincingly? On no notice? That's a lot to ask of them, kid. This is going to be hard enough to pull off without introducing even more problems into the equation, and keeping this to only the bare minimum of people that need to know." Pause. "Speaking of, Ijichi, you get to be kiddo's handler. I don't like it either, but you already know, so we might as well use you. Oh, and if you so much as hint to anyone that he's alive," Gojo gives a menacing smile, "we both know how much I will enjoy killing you. Clear?"

    Ijichi squeaks like a mouse and nods many times.

"I... guess."

        Ieiri sighs and shakes her head. "So troublesome."

"It won't be forever. Ideally it won't even be very long, I just want to blitz train you until you won't die the minute I leave the room. Think of it as incentive."

Itadori inhales deeply, hops off the table, and bows. "Yes, Sensei!"

"Fortunately I have an excuse to neglect my other students and play favorites. The second-years want your friends to participate in the sister-school goodwill event, so they're all playing study group together."

"...aww, man!"

"Hey, hey, calm down. If you improve fast enough you can go, too. It'd be a good time for a dramatic reveal!"

He punches his palm. "Yes, Sensei!"

"Good! Now. Shoko, do you need anything to keep him officially dead? Spare corpse, maybe?"

"No one checks," she sighs. "They find it distasteful. I can deal with it."

"Thank you, you're a treasure. Are there presents you want that I can offer as tribute?"

"Keep him alive until he gets all fingers," she says, gesturing towards Itadori with her head.

“Rest assured, I’ll do my very best,” says Gojo, who bows with sincerity and everything.

Then he bounces back up, grin back on his face.

“Next! Ijichi, if anyone wonders why you’re slightly more nervous and jumpy than usual, feel free to say I ranted about killing you for this whole affair, and made some threats. And go about your day like everything is normal.”

"That's not even a lie," he mutters to himself.

“The truth makes a better lie than making something up!” he says cheerfully. “Okay kiddo, we’re relocating to somewhere secret. Ish. This will be disorienting.”

"...what, are we teleporting?"

“Basically!” He reaches out and grabs hold of Tokan’s shoulder, and.

Now he is lying on a couch in a dark room. It didn’t even feel like anything, it just happened. Gojo hums and turns on the nearby light. Itadori is in a small, sparse, and a little bit dusty living room, with an attached kitchenette.

“So for safety reasons you do need to stay on campus, but fortunately with how sorcerers have been playing elaborate shadow wars for centuries, there are about a dozen little weird rooms nestled away. That I know of. There’s probably actually more.”

"—wait did we actually teleport I never knew you could do that!!"

"Eh, it gets really old really quickly, so I don't do it all that often. Like marathoning math equations. It's not even an interesting problem, just tedious." He starts investigating the cabinets to see what they have in them; they're empty except for some dead bugs and dust bunnies.

"Great. I get to go food shopping," he sighs. "Any of your old things you really want to keep? I think the policy is still to donate spare clothes and stuff from the deceased, it shouldn't be too hard to pick out anything special to you."

"Not... really. I was pretty much just wearing uniforms, when Sukuna didn't decide to just rip them off anyway."

"Oh, that'll make it easier. I'll go clothes shopping for you when I'm buying your food. Food preferences? You'll be doing all your own cooking, so." He gets out his phone and starts casually typing out a text message.

He can produce some preferences. Not like he's unused to cooking for himself; he's been doing it for years.

Gojo makes a note of them (on his phone) and then says, "Hold tight, maybe look around and get comfortable. I'll be back in a bit with some training tools that are good for self study."

And then he disappears. Rather literally. He was there, and now he isn't.

Showoff.

He does look around, though, for lack of anything better to do.

........also he wants his phone back, he should ask about that later.

This place appears to be an underground apartment - it smells a bit more earthy than normal, and there are no windows to speak of. There's a bedroom that's a little bit more spacious than the one he had in the dormitory, and an attached bathroom with functioning plumbing. In the living room, there's a television with a DVD player, the couch he landed on, an empty bookshelf, and not much else. It's a little past 'minimalism' and into 'spartan,' or perhaps 'depressing.' But there's a fridge, an oven, a rice cooker, and a microwave, so that's nice. He could definitely live down here comfortably, if not perhaps pleasantly.

Eh. It's fine. Tsuyoku naritai and all that shit, he'll be out of here in two shakes.

After about a quarter of an hour, Gojo returns! He uses the stairs this time, and even knocks.

"I have your training materials," he singsongs, setting two large plastic boxes in front of the couch. On top of the boxes is a small plush bear with large blue boxing gloves on its hands.

"Thank you, Sensei! Why does it have boxing gloves, Sensei!"

"Because it will punch you if you get what we're working on wrong!" he says, brightly.

"I do not like that, Sensei!"

"Too bad, it's the only one nobody will miss!"

Siiiiigh.

He grabs the toy and looks at it. Tries pushing some cursed energy into it?

It... doesn't do anything at all.

"What we'll be working on is cursed energy regulation. To push out a reliable and steady source of cursed energy, no matter what your emotional state at the time, or how distracted you might be. This'll also help you know what your stores are like! And while you're doing that..." He opens plastic box number one. "You'll be watching movies."

He peers over into the box. "Movies," he repeats, slowly.

The box holds many, many DVDs.

"Yeah! We've got all kinds. Romantic comedies, action flicks, horror, even terrible French films. You get to keep hold of your new best friend, and make sure he stays asleep the entire time you're watching them."

"Asleep. So it wakes up if I... stop? Do it too much?"

To answer his question, the boxing bear punches him. In the face. The boxing gloves help, but it is still definitely punching him in the face.

"Once you start putting cursed energy into it, it wakes up if you stop. And punches you. It also punches you if you put too much into it. The longer you do it, the more it ramps up, and it starts requiring more cursed energy to stay asleep, and with less margin for error. Part of your assignment is sensing what that requirement is, it's sufficiently obvious to a skilled sorcerer."

"Ow," he says, glaring at the toy now yawning on the floor. "Nice jab, there, Sensei," he adds, rubbing his face and walking over to the cursed corpse to get it to fall asleep again.

"I call it like I see it, kid."

"Usually like my punches to have more sexual tension behind them," he mutters to himself, walking over to the box of DVDs again while still holding the toy.

"Hey, I won't tell you how to feel about the bear. Now, I'm gonna go grocery and clothes shopping, any last minute additions to what you want? Preferences for brands of toothpaste, maybe?"

"—oh, right! Uh, presumably my actual phone is either destroyed or it would be a bad idea to use it? So, could you get me a new one, Sensei?"

"Yeah, sure. Have fun!"

Gojo gives a little wave and turns to go. The bear chooses this moment to punch its victim again. This time, it's in the gut.

"Urf you motherfucker—" he says, grabbing the bear by the head and throwing it at a wall.

"That doesn't help!" calls Gojo as he leaves.

Indeed, it doesn't. The bear hops up and launches itself at Itadori for another punch.

Itadori's expecting it and blocks, then grabs the bear and resumes the cursed energy output.

This is going to be a long, long while. He picks a film at random (choosing seems against the spirit of the exercise) and puts it on.

Gojo is kind enough to bring him soda and popcorn for his movie night, when he brings in all of the essentials. And the phone. It has Gojo's and Ijichi's numbers already on it. The fashion choices Gojo makes for him are a bit more upscale than Itadori might be used to, but they suit him well enough.

Hours later, Gojo has cajoled Ijichi into driving him to his meeting with Yaga. Mostly because he is so sick of warping space to teleport around, he has been doing it all day, it is the worst. Great for secrecy, but the worst. He is back to pointedly ignoring Ijichi, which is probably preferable to threatening his life. Until he sits up, and says:

".... Stop the car."

"Huh? Right here?"

He stops anyway.

"Yep. Right here." And Gojo gets out, standing in the middle of the road. "You go on ahead."

"Huh? ...a-are you testing me? You're not going to hit me if I actually go on ahead, are you?"

"No. Why would I test you. I already know your worth." He makes a shooing motion with his hand.

"O-oh. Okay."

He drives off, leaving Gojō alone in the middle of the highway.

He waits in the middle of the road.

"Well, are you just going to hide in the bushes?" he wonders, when the car is probably far enough away that it'll be out of the line of fire.

The curse lands from above with a loud "Yyyyahh!", a short stout creature with only one eye wearing a yellow poncho. The top of his head is shaped like a miniature volcano, and his "ears" are stoppered by corks.

Gojo barely even bothers to dodge, and keeps his hands in his pockets.

"Huh. And just who are you?"

The creature's grin widens and he gestures with his arm, causing a slightly less miniature volcano to emerge from the cliffside behind Gojō. It immediately spouts an enormous jet of fire, thick enough to entirely cover Gojō head to toe, strong enough to reach several dozen meters into the forested distance, hot enough to melt the pavement Gojō's standing on.

"Well," he says, chuckling, "that was easier than I'd expected."

A ball of molten lava sits where Gojo was standing. That... is not how that is supposed to work. And then it clears, and Gojo stands in a circle of unmelted pavement, looking completely fine. Hands still in his pockets.

He tilts his head. "You are an unregistered special grade. Did you miss the memo about how your kind are supposed to be rare? It ruins the whole point of the classification system if we have you just popping up everywhere."

Ah... he survived.

Well, more fun this way. "Did I wound your pride?" asks the curse, assuming a more serious battle stance.

Gojo lets out a snort. He makes no motion to assume any kind of battle stance at all.

"Hardly. ... Did you attack me here so that no other sorcerer could come to my aid? You can't have cared about civilian casualties."

Something—a pebble?—starts popping up from the volcano on his head, jumping then falling back down. "And if I did?"

The pebble turns out to be a huge insect of some kind, multiple of them unfolding from his head one after the other, a small swarm forming and immediately all charging at Gojō.

They are stopped in the air in front of him, and Gojo finally removes his hand from his pocket.... to bring it to his lips to cover his laughter.

"Well, that would be hilarious," he says, snickering. "I see the volcano on your head gives it a bit of a hot air problem. You do know who you're dealing with, right?"

The insects start emitting a loud, keening, high-pitched sound, powerful enough to paralyse a human being. "Burn," says the curse, and they explode.

"You know," says Gojo, from elsewhere, "a two part attack's actually not bad. I'm almost impressed."

The curse hops towards where Gojō is standing, a ball of flame in its hand, and throws it directly at Gojō's head.

His head is engulfed in flame, of course!

"There's more!" exclaims the curse, giddily, who swivels around Gojō to apply a touch technique to his back which causes a burst of purple flames to explode from the point of contact.

It certainly seems to work. The curse’s hand touches something, and the scenery is extremely, ludicrously destroyed.

The curse chuckles dryly. "That's all it took? I take a look for myself, and it was just an overestimation by the weak. That human was just as fragile as the rest. He wasn't living a life of truth. It's all so... nauseatingly repulsive."

He smiles to himself and turns around, starting to walk away. "I'm going to go spread real strength, the truth, through death."

“Haven’t you heard of confirming the corpse?” wonders Gojo, from the smoke and ruin. “Come on, we just did this, I’d like to have a little variety.”

The curse turns back around, slowly.

He waves. Cheerfully.

"You missed!"

"...what's the meaning of this? That's impossible! That wasn't like before! I know I touched you and killed you!"

"Clearly not. Would it help if I explained?"

"You cocky bastard."

He doesn't make any moves to attack again, though.

"Yeah!" he agrees, with a laugh. "So, what you actually touched was the infinity of space between me and everything else." He holds out his hand, grinning. "Try to touch me and see."

"C'moooooon. Live a little!" He wiggles his fingers enticingly.

...no hostility that he can detect. So he can... see what that's about.

He narrows his eye but takes a few steps towards the sorcerer and tries to touch his hand.

Something stops him centimeters away from Gojo's outstretched fingers. Or - no, his hand is stopped in something.

"The closer you get, the less you move. You can push as hard as you like, and you'll get absolutely nowhere. Unless!" He reaches his hand further and gently touches the curse's. "I let you. See? And now we can hold hands. I'm sure that's all you were after, right?"

He entwines his fingers with Jogo's, grinning.

It... his hand... stops just before him...

"I—refuse—damn you—!"

"What, I'm not your type? Aw. I'm hurt."

He releases Jogo's hand, giving a shrug. "Oh well. Guess we can go back to fighting. It was my turn next, right?"

What follows is a brutal series of blows that are far too fast for Jogo to wrap his poor volcano head around, ending in being casually booted off of the side of the mountain.

Out and down he goes, bouncing off the side of the mountain under gravity.

That power... And it's not even just curse-enhanced hits...

He don't understand. It doesn't make sense. He has to understand...

"To put it in very simple terms, I warp space itself. Traditionally, the ultimate form of the technique of the Gojo clan would be to warp space to create a vacuum." He holds up a single finger, and a red orb starts spinning on the end of it. "But just warping space in one direction is boring, isn’t it? With space warping you have so many options! What do you think happens when you reverse the effect?"

Answer: you get a great big explosion that sends the curse flying.

He's launched, far into the air above the woods. Far, far too far.

He must not think. He must act.

It takes several tries to arrest his momentum, hitting into trees and the ground over and over again, but eventually he manages it, and tries to pivot some of that acquired momentum back into a flaming punch—of course Gojō Satoru is still following him, of course the sorcerer's hot on his heels—but if he can land something—anything—

Wait, actually, where did the sorcerer go?

...the hell.

Did he... flee?

Not quite!

Back at an underground apartment where a movie marathon is going on, Gojo appears out of thin air behind Tokan.

"Field trip!" he calls, cheerfully.

"Sweet baby Buddha," says Itadori, nearly jumping out of his skin.

His cursed energy output is steady, though; the bear remains asleep.

"Oh, well done! C'mon, we don't want to keep our guest speaker waiting."

And then he reaches out and grabs Itadori by the shoulder, and—

—they are out on a mountainside that looks like it's been having itself a bad time.

"Sorry about that!" calls Gojo, to the curse. "I'm a teacher, you know. I can't pass up the excellent teaching opportunity you offer!"

"—give a brother a warning!" Pause. "Where, uh, are we?"

In the middle of a shallow lake, it seems, where a weird bipedal curse has been looking for—for—

"Sukuna's vessel," says the curse, dumbly. He's alive?

"I did give you a warning. It doesn't really matter where we are, don't worry about it."

Then, to the curse: "And yes, but it's very interesting that you recognized him immediately."

Seeing the curse's legs half sunk into the water makes Itadori notice that his legs aren't, and he blinks as he lifts and lowers his right foot. "Why aren't we sinking?"

"Planning on using him as a shield, are you?"

"Shhhh," says Gojo, patting Tokan on the head to quiet his many questions. "Pay attention. No, of course not, did you not hear what I just said? He's here for what you're going to do next."

"What.. I'm going to do next? Bringing someone who's just going to slow you down is stupid."

"Aww! Your concern is touching, but I'll be fine. C'mon, I just showed you how you have no chance of hitting me, what are you going to do about it?"

...it's a trap.

It's so obviously a trap.

And Gojō Satoru is literally mocking him about it. "You fucking brat," he screams, the top and sides of his head erupting into enormous jets of lava. "Do not underestimate me!" He brings his hands together, tips of the index fingers and thumbs touching, middle fingers side-by-side, little fingers pulled back. "Domain Expansion."

It extends from behind him, a curtain of pure blackness that surrounds the three of them... and which then sprouts volcanic rock on the ground, walls, and ceiling, with cracks spouting lava everywhere as their only light sources.

  "Coffin of the Iron Mountain!"

"There we go. Thank you!" calls Gojo, brightly. His left hand keeps a firm grip on his student's shoulder. "So! You've already encountered this sort of thing before, Tokan-kun. What is it, and how does this compare to the others you've seen?"

Tōkan is... frozen.

"It's, it's a Domain Expansion. But it's... more like Sukuna's than the other curses'," he says, looking around with saucepan eyes. "I don't know how. But it is."

"Yep! The one made by the detention center's special curse was what you would call an incomplete Domain. Sort of like a messy first pass instead of the fully realized thing. Whereas this," he motions with his free hand, "is the real deal. There's a barrier trapping the both of us inside of it, and any attacks that the owner makes imbued with the Domain around us are guaranteed to hit."

"...shit," Tōkan says mildly.

Most sorcerers would have burnt to ash... just from existing inside his domain. Having this difference in power thrust in his face like that... On his pride as a curse, this is completely unacceptable.

He sends a huge stalactite of stone right at the sorcerers.

"Quite! But there are downsides, and a few ways to counter. The biggest downside is that Domain Expansion is expensive, and imbuing techniques with it so that they always hit is similarly expensive." He reaches out touches the stalactite just before it hits them both; it disintegrates. "And just because the technique hits doesn't mean it hurts. Did you see how it broke against my cursed energy instead of me?"

Nodnodnodnod.

What.

"Now, in theory, you can break out and leave the domain entirely. It's impressed on a barrier, after all, and once you're outside of the area of effect, you're free. I don't really recommend this, though. If someone is powerful and skilled enough to make a complete Domain, their barrier is likely to be quite strong, and most likely reinforced to the inside, to keep its victims inside."

...fuck this dude.

The curse starts sending a barrage of lava at him—here he can just overwhelm his Infinity and kill him—

"But the most effective way to counter another's Domain," he continues, reaching up to remove his blindfold, "is to expand your own." He holds up his right hand, and wraps his index and middle fingers around each other. "Domain Expansion:"

  "I
   N
    F
     I
      N
       I
        T
         E

       V
        O
         I
          D."

Jogo perceives everything. Every mote of dust floating within the barrier. Every breath every person in the Domain takes. The rhythm and sound of their heartbeats. The way space itself twists as the inferior Domain is extinguished. The air pressure around them, the composition of the ground beneath their feet, the precise way the barrier around them has been strengthened, the way light is brought in from the outside and then twisted for this exact light level, the exact configuration of the cursed energy around them—

—And more. Too much. He is an insignificant speck in a grand, uncaring cosmos. He is small, pathetic, and meaningless, in a universe that is bigger than a mind can really comprehend. He is a miniscule, random happenstance, who will exist for the briefest of brief moments, and then be extinguished, and nothing will care. He is a speck, stranded in the infinite, and against it he is nothing at all.

"What happens then is a contest between Domains. Usually the more refined one will dominate the space."

...everything is empty. Or full. At the same time. Their surroundings are crazy, like he's standing in the middle of vacuum or nowhere or everywhere.

The curse, though... is just standing there. Not doing anything. "What happened to him?"

"He is experiencing the inner world of Limitless - that is, the name for the Gojo clan technique - combined with the very special inner demons that make up the fabric of my being."

"He's not having a great time right now."

"It's innate? The technique."

"Mhm. Usually this is where I would kill him, but I have some questions to ask of him." He begins walking towards Jogo, gently tugging Tokan along. "So I'll just rip his head off."

Itadori follows along, happily enough.

When the curse is within an arm's length, Gojo reaches out his hand to grasp his volcanic head. Just before his fingers touch, Jogo's neck twists, and the head is torn away from the body.

Gojo grabs hold of the head, and dismisses the Domain. The hand keeping firm hold of Tokan is released, and Gojo uses it to pull his blindfold back on.

"So! Hi there. Feel like having a chat?"

That was a whole new level, what the fuck.

"C'mon. Don't want me to put you back, do you?" he teases, clearly... not really joking at all.

"Die screaming!"

"Mmmmno. Okay, looks like this is going to run on a bit long. Ready to go back to movie night, Tokan?"

Before Itadori can answer, an enormous flower lands on the ground in front of them, and a field of more flowers sprouts around it.

"—waaahh so pretty~~~"

...

Huh. This is weird. Everything isn't terrible? Life isn't meaningless? When's the last time he felt like this?

Wait, no, this is bad sign, damnation.

Volcano head is already gone. Probably snatched in the very brief moment that Gojo was distracted. He now has a choice between chasing after whoever took him, or...

"Ah, shit," he sighs, and then because he's a responsible teacher he prioritizes the safety of his student over everything else. C'mere, Tokan, you are getting the fuck out of this field of flowers.

Zip goes Itadori with his Sensei, which is enough to wake him up from the daze.

Just in time for a huge-ass vine to emerge from the ground exactly under where Itadori had been standing.

Okay, but can he figure out where the head snatcher went?

Nah. Flowers-and-vine curse is good enough at hiding its presence it's even hiding volcano head's.

The vine retreats back into the ground, and the last bit of cursed energy around the flowers dissipates.

...shit.

"Uh. Sorry, Sensei."

"Nothing to apologize for, I'm the one who brought you here. I do not regret prioritizing keeping you safe over killing them." He gives a little sigh. "The interesting curses just had to show up now that I'm reformed and responsible. Where were you assholes five years ago?"

"...what were you doing five years ago?"

"Eh. Bit of a global rampage looking for interesting things to kill. Spoiler: I ran out."

"Maybe a bit too early," says Itadori, grinning slightly.

"Apparently. Anyway. Back to movie night with your best punchy friend?"

"Ugh. I think I have the hang of it now but for the record: ugh."

"I know. Just think of all of the cursed energy it's helping you build, though!"

And shoulder grab and here they are, back with the couch, the TV, the movies, and the bear.

The fucking bear grump grump.

Well, nothing to it. Back to the movie marathon with the bear.

"Don't worry, you're doing very well. Tomorrow I'll even be by to spar with you, we've got to work on getting you over shutting down upon running into a curse of any real substance!"

"And you're sure I'll survive."

He laughs.

"Of course! It'll be very educational, though."

"Sadist."

"Yeah!" he agrees, laughing again, and then he heads out. "I recommend locking the bear in the bathroom when you want to sleep!"

"Yes, Sensei," he sighs, imagining the NIGHTMARE it'll be having to pee in the middle of the night.

Log: September 2018
Kanagawa Prefecture, Kawasaki City
Kinema Cinema

After a showing, three high school boys' disfigured corpses were found by staff. Cause of death: increased cranial pressure and respiratory paralysis due to cranial deformity.

"H-hey!" calls a young man, into an alleyway. This is the stupidest thing he's ever done, it might get him killed, but he has to know. And if he dies, well. It beats going to school. "Did. Did you do that? In the theater?"

The long-haired youth he's been following stops in their tracks and slowly looks over their shoulder, revealing gray skin that even under the dim surrounding light has very clear stitch marks all over it.

"Wow, you can see me?"

“Y-yes? Can. Can other people not?”

The person's smile widens but they don't answer. "So what if it was me who did it?" They fully turn around to face the boy. "Does that upset you? Were those three... special to you?"

“…um. I-I mean they were kind of. The worst? Was. That an accident, or?”

"Oh, no... they were being so rude, you see, talking loudly during the movie like that. I could barely hear it over their voices."

“Oh.” Pause. “I-I-I actually meant the effect, I know you picked them as test subjects because they were being terrible, but the, the thing you did to them seemed more uncontrolled and experimental than deliberate and. How did you do that, are you still learning, and can you teach me?”

Oh no that last part probably shouldn’t have slipped out, should it.

Their smile widens even more, however that's at all possible. "Well, I suppose you could call it an experiment, yes. And teach you? I think that specific thing I did is, shall we say, one-of-a-kind. But... so are you."

“What? I-I am? Just because I can see you?”

"No," they say again with that same nonchalance. "Many people can. But I can see you." They take a slow, deliberate step towards the boy. "I can see you have... potential."

squeak.

They laugh and turn around, making a "come hither" gesture with a finger. "I'm Mahito. It's... interesting to meet you."

Well on one hand he could not follow the creepy stitched person who can and did morph literal people into popping like balloons further into the alley, and do the safe sane thing of running away, and probably never ever know what any of this is about and go back to an unpleasant teenage existence of being horribly bullied and friendless and alone and magic not being real, or.

Or he could. And probably die but maybe actually learn anything about what’s going on.

“… interesting to meet you too,” he says, a little shakily, stepping after Mahito on trembling legs. “I’m, uh. Junpei. Yoshino Junpei.”

"So!" Gojo motions demonstrably to a tall, blond man in a business suit, tie, and slightly tinted glasses. "Presenting ex-salaryman Nanami Kento! Nanami, presenting Itadori Tokan, Sukuna's vessel and pronounced clinically and legally dead! Now make friends. Nanami has agreed to supervise you as you go running off to apply your knowledge to real curses!"

Nanami Kento looks... less than thrilled to be here.

"Gojo-san, how old is he. When you asked me to supervise one of your students I thought he'd be third or fourth year. I am not a teacher."

"Sixteen," Itadori replies easily, bowing to Nanami. "It is a pleasure to meet you, sir."

"Hajimemashite," replies Nanami, with all of the inflection and personality of drywall. "And now goodbye, I refuse to be responsible for a child. Especially with the grades of curses I typically handle."

"He'll be fiiiiiine. I've been sparring with him for the last month!"

Pause.

"You have my condolences," says Nanami, to Tokan.

Itadori straightens back up. "Thank you sir. It has been educational and very, very painful."

“I imagine so.” He looks back to Gojo. “I’m still not taking him. It’s not his abilities that are in question. You and I are used to the kinds of horrors grade 1 and special grades can and do inflict. The bodies they leave. It is not an environment someone his age should be exposed to carelessly.”

“He’s already been exposed. Several people have already succeeded at killing him, he has Sukuna inside him having a daily chat, and he’s seen and fought a special grade before. He’s already in the deep end, whether any of us like it or not. I need to make sure he can swim.”

"Yeah I was dead for a while," confirms Itadori. "Sukuna decided ripping my heart off would be good to keep me hostage. As if I would let him just run amok with my body just because I would die if I swapped back."

"Personal danger is not the sort of thing I mean. I mean the civilian casualties and hostages, the moral dilemmas that intelligent curses like to inflict. Situations such as: rescue the tortured hostages, or go after the curse responsible. Using them as shields. Using them as bait to lure a sorcerer into a trap. Leaving pieces of them to unnerve and anger. Things that haunt you long after the curse responsible is dead."

"Sir, with all due respect, as Gojō-sensei said, this is my life now, I am in it whether I want to be or not. I am Sukuna's vessel, these things are going to happen to me and around me regardless and sooner rather than later. If they are the sorts of things I currently cannot deal with, then I would rather be ready for them than flounder."

"Fine."

"Thank you, sir. I will do my best to keep up and not hinder you."

"I wouldn't let you hinder me regardless. And if you fail to keep up I will send you back to your actual sensei." He turns to go. "Come along, then, I've been asked to investigate a series of incidents in Kawasaki."

"You'll do great!" assures Gojo.

"Yes, Sensei! ...also, um, Nanami-san, why did he call you 'ex-salaryman'?"

"After several years at the Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College," this might have been the first person to properly use the school's full, actual name, "I decided that I hated sorcerer society, hated hunting curses, hated all of my peers, and most of all hated the thought of continuing my life in this wretched torturous hellhole filled with scheming vipers and monsters that make horror stories look quaint. So I left for the corporate ladder."

"...and yet you're back."

"Yes. After several years at the tender mercies of the modern business world, I came to realize that I hated all of that, too. My fundamental problem was that, as a general rule, I hate people, do not understand them, hate the entire structure of the society that we as a species have painstakingly created to trap ourselves in, and that people themselves are and have always been capable of just as much evil as whatever curses might inflict. So if I hated everything equally, I might as well do what I'm good at."

.........this man needs a hug.

But Itadori already has one little autistic nonverbal boy to contend with, he should not acquire a second. "That makes sense," is what he says instead.

"Really? Gojo thinks it's the darkest and most depressing thing he's ever heard."

"...hmm, I guess it might make my top ten, but in terms of reasons for doing things it seems sound enough to me."

"Most sorcerers have disturbing psychological stances for why they take up this profession. At this point, I assume they all do until proven otherwise."

"I suppose you have to be a bit weird in the head to want to keep doing this."

"Indeed."

"Well. Tell me more about the Kawasaki incidents?"

"Several victims have had their bodies unnaturally warped, all near the same area, but not centrally located in one location that could be contained within a barrier. Which means there's a curse of sufficient strength and intelligence to move around, or a curse user."

"...warped? Sounds awful. Are we going somewhere to investigate it?"

"We'll be investigating the previous incidents, which will likely give us clues as to what we're dealing with, but not lead us to where the culprit might be hiding. While we're in the area, we'll wait for another incident to occur that we can investigate, preferably within the hour of its occurrence, which will be much more conclusive."

"I... see. Well, lead the way, ah... should I just call you Nanami-san?"

"Yes. And I will call you Itadori-kun."

"Sounds good."

It's very narratively convenient, the way another incident occurs very soon. It's also narratively convenient, the way it's raining. The cinema is surrounded by police tape and reporters, and the three high schoolers' bodies, covered in black tarp, are being moved into vans to be taken to wherever it is they're going to be taken for examination.

(To Ieiri Shoko, is where they're going to be taken.)

The black tarps are not enough to hide the hideous malformations of the boys' skulls. In overall volume they more than doubled, but each of them has had unique changes: one's eyes and eyesockets expanded upwards and outwards into two thick antler-like appendages; one's mouth has been enormously vertically distended while the top of his head has been stretched up to nearly three times its normal height; and the third's jaws have been pushed down and forward with a cyllindrical dent separating them from the rest of his head.

Inside the room where the showing was held, the row where the kids had been sitting is also blocked off by police tape, but the copious amount of blood they lost has extended to the rows before and after theirs, too, making it somewhat moot.

It is a grisly scene. Nanami surveys it with cold analytics, and leaves it at that. Feelings don't come into it.

"Did Gojo walk you through sensing cursed energy signatures?"

"...no, but I think I know how to do it. I did a bit of it on my first official mission a few weeks ago."

"Then tell me what you see."

Itadori squints and looks around, then points. "I don't think I... see... them. So much as sense them. Does that make sense?" He points at one of the exits. "It's going that way."

"It does, but since we don't have a word for sensing cursed energy, we traditionally use 'see' as a loaner. And yes, it is. But first, we must go through this place methodically. Chasing off after trails without thinking is foolish and irresponsible. The cursed energy for the technique originated here." He steps into the bloodstains and motions with his hand to grasp where the concentration of leftover cursed energy is strongest. "Three major concentrations, above the top of the victim's seats. So that means that we're likely working against something that's touch ranged."

He nods along with Nanami's explanation. "Okay, that makes sense. Not... amazing for my specialty in close combat but good to know in advance."

"Yes. Best to start channeling cursed energy into a shield now, in case we're ambushed." He gives another glance at the crime scene. "From the distance of the blood splatters, I believe the change was fast. Unclear if there was any kind of incubation time. If there was, I suspect it was subtle until it wasn't, or the victims would have moved. Fled, flailed, fallen out of their seats, the like."

"Aren't there security cameras in here that could have captured something?"

"Not the curse itself, but the change caused by it, yes. Good thinking."

"And there could have been someone else, too, in case it was a curse user and not a curse. ...but you have checked this already, haven't you?"

"Yes, and I've sent Ijichi to confiscate the footage from the local authorities and isolate the time period in which this occurred. But looking at security footage when curses don't show up in them doesn't seem obvious to some."

He looks around, then back at the taped-off aisle. "There's a trail leaving here... but not a trail coming here."

"Mm. Which suggests the effect was either sustained, takes time to taper off, or. Something much worse."

"We are being led to a trap?"

"Possibly, yes."

"Okay." He flexes his fingers and focuses his cursed energy on his skin.

"First we'll review the footage," says Nanami. "Ten minutes will not be enough for the trail to fade entirely, and it might give us valuable information."

And he turns to lead Tokan off to where Ijichi has a television.

Okay yes that's smart he'll follow Nanami.

The security footage has no sound, but even so it's clear the three boys are talking loudly over the movie. They gesticulate animatedly, show each other things in their phones, and basically completely ignore the actual film.

Which would be fine if they were the only ones there, but there's another boy a couple of rows behind them. He's difficult to make out, especially with how little he moves, almost shrunk into himself. At various times he looks like he's about to get up and say something, but eventually he settles back down, probably thinking better of it.

And then the other three boys' heads explode.

They don't really explode, but they do expand in a way that would be comical if it were less gruesome. It takes a few seconds, and they start expanding one after another, but by the time they notice it their airways are too blocked for them to make any further sounds. They thrash about for a few more seconds before they finally succumb to the changes, and then they are still.

The other boy seemed frozen while that was happening, and still didn't move for many seconds afterwards, but then he suddenly got up and ran out of the screening room. The security camera in the hallway outside does a substantially better job at capturing the boy's likeness than the other ones', and he looks terrified as he runs away.

"The victims weren't changed concurrently. That implies that if two sorcerers attacked at the same time, only one of them can be affected. Potentially useful, but obviously dangerous to test."

Itadori nods. "Probably best to stay away anyway."

“Yes. But better to know than not. Ijichi, keep us apprised of the police’s investigation into the witness. We’re likely going to want to talk to him as well.”

And then they can go follow that trail that might lead them into a trap. Carefully.

Itadori has kept a coating of cursed energy around his skin throughout this, and he reinforces it as he follows Nanami.

Nanami is probably doing the same, but his shielding feels significantly more subtle to Itadori's senses.

The trail leads out into an alleyway, and then up onto a roof.

It continues to rain, and Itadori feels like this is sufficiently obviously enough a trap there's no point in bringing the umbrellas, but to be fair they might as well just in case.

But they haven't taken three steps past the door out before the first curse shows up. It's somewhat humanoid, kind of, green-skinned and with elongated limbs it uses to quickly crawl down a wall and into an alcove sheltered from the rain. It has a short tail that ends in a tuft of long black hair that matches the hair on its head, and its face is stretched into a snout, two eyes bulging out of their sockets and the lips pulled back with the teeth and gums sticking out of its mouth. It looks over its shoulder, still on all fours, and says, in that typical garbled and warped register curses tend to have, "Lu-lu-lunchbox?"

Itadori spreads his legs a bit for stability but narrows his eyes and looks over his shoulder—there it is, a second curse, also more humanoid than most. Its skin is white and paper and its head is stretched and widened into its torso with no neck to separate them. Its eyes and nostrils are squeezed into points, and its perpetually-parted lips show a mouth that opens horizontally rather than vertically, two rows of large square teeth going up-down rather than right-left. "Good detergent," it screeches.

"You take the one behind us," says Nanami, "and draw it towards where we came from and keep our exit as secure as you can. I'll take this one and see if I draw out any more."

"Yes, Nanami-san."

He tosses his umbrella aside and flexes his fingers as he turns around to fully face the white-skinned curse then waits for it to make the first move.

It does, of course. It has… some skill, some level of thought behind its actions besides mindless murder instincts, but it doesn’t feel particularly well trained. Or well formed, for that matter.

Nanami steps forward towards its companion… and begins to monologue?

“My cursed technique is precisely based around proportions, and mathematical. Imagine dividing something by ten. If I strike at exactly the ratio of seven parts to three, my cursed energy creates and then exploits a weakness.”

Is Nanami talking to him?

Tōkan dodges a swipe and offers one of his own but calls, "Were... you talking to me, Nanami-san?"

“Not in particular, though you’re free to listen.”

"...can they understand human speech?" he guesses next.

"Perhaps. I have yet to determine for sure or not."

"Okay, I give up. Why are you explaining your cursed technique, then?"

"Really?" wonders Nanami, sounding a little surprised. He is trading swipes with his own creature, but seems to be seeing what it's doing more than actually trying to kill it. It's not accurate to say he's toying with it, but he's definitely giving it space to observe it. "I thought you would be familiar with pacts already. I'd been told you had one already, with Sukuna."

"I... probably made one that included having my memory of it erased," he says, dodge dodge punch. "If Sukuna explained pacts in detail to me he made sure I would forget about that, too."

"I see. Then Gojo-san was very lax to not explain them to you once that was clear." Swipe, dodge, sidestep. "A pact, or shibari, is in short an agreement to bind or restrict oneself. It can be between two people, like your forgotten one with Sukuna, or," sidestep, "it can be with oneself. It is inherent to human psychology that if you give up ground or make a concession, you can gain something elsewhere. Illogical and incorrect in the reality of cold physics, but the world of jujutsu sorcery is not. It is illogical, it is spiritual, it is emotional. And humans, silly creatures that we are, think it should be fair."

He opens his mouth to say something but immediately closes it and braces himself, both arms in an X in front of him to tank a punch.

Which gives him time to think before asking, and so instead he says, "Your restriction is informing... your opponent, such as they are, about how your skills work. Giving up the element of surprise. And the upside...?"

Nanami seems to have gained all he wanted from watching his opponent. He steps forward, and slashes with terrifying precision and speed. In one arcing slash, he removes three limbs.

"Simply put? Power."

Then he tilts his head and eyes his (wrapped) shortsword. It... is covered in blood.

"...Ah," he says softly. "I see."

Curses don't bleed.

Tōkan was talking but not watching, so he did not see the blood.

Instead he thinks. He doesn't have a cursed technique, but...

"Gojō-sensei said that because of learning to manipulate cursed energy so late there's a delay between when I want to use it and when I actually use it." He takes a leap backwards off his foe, kicking its chest. "So my hits are twofold: the initial hit with raw strength, and then a fraction of a second later the cursed energy for a second hit." Will that work as a pact? Time to find out. He leaps forward again, balls a hand into a fist, and punches: "Divergent Fist."

The first hit dents the creature's chest; the second pierces a hole straight through.

Nanami winces. "Well executed, Itadori-kun, but." He removes his phone from his pocket and takes a picture of one of the severed limbs of his own creature. Because it's not a curse, it shows up just fine. "... I would rather have spared you."

"S...pared me?" he asks, blinking. He walks over to Nanami when he notices the offered phone. "A picture. A curse showing up in a picture? ...not a curse." He remembers the deformed state of the three kids who died in the theater and gets a sick, twisted feeling in the mouth of his stomach.

"No. If it's any comfort, if there was anything of them still left inside, they probably would have thanked you. But I didn't observe any manner of thought processing left." He sighs, and finishes his own once-human creature with a final stab to the head. "Welcome to first and special grades. Still believe you can swim?"

Tōkan swallows dryly and nods. "Not... anything else we could have done for them. Whoever or whatever did this to them..." Is his target.

"Is ultimately responsible," agrees Nanami, with a firm nod. He glances around, the closes his eyes. "... It seems these were the only ones left for this trap. Do you see any more signs of a trail?"

He does not want to lead Itadori's conclusions, but... he can't sense anything. Which does not bode well at all.

"No," he says immediately, then frowns at himself and looks around more carefully. "No," he repeats, more certain of his conclusion.

"Neither do I." Sigh. "Let's return to Ijichi-san. Ieiri-san might have more information on the other victims by now. And we'll want to have someone come by to pick these up and attempt identification."

"Yes, Nanami-san."

"There are cursed spirits known as 'special-grade potential apparitions'," says the stitched person. They're holding a book and flipping through the pages idly, lounging on a hammock somewhere in the sewer system. "Cursed spirits are made of the cursed energy emitted by humans, so shared images of fear, even if they're not real, make it easy for powerful curses to manifest."

Talking to the terrifying stitched person has been, as expected, completely terrifying, but Junpei is kind of used to everything being scary, by now. At least this scary thing is being nice to him and teaching him neat stuff about magic.

"So, like the Slit Mouth Woman and other famous ghost stories? Or—or actually can it be more than that, even recent stuff, can the monsters in horror movies become real and proper cursed spirits, too? Because they were put into movies?"

"Exactly! Like Toilet-Bound Hanako-san or the nine-tailed fox." They show Junpei a picture of the latter on the book they're holding and smile at him. "Jujutsu sorcerers keep track of these, and the fact that any unknown unclassified special-grade gets labelled as a potential apparition makes it look like that's all they're focused on."

They turn a knowing look to Junpei himself. "But people constantly fear way more than just fairy tales, don't they?"