Chapter Text
Kokichi has to admit, this is somewhat tricky. He’s used to controlling his puppets from afar, yes, but he’s only ever done it while his real body remained completely still. Before, he was immobile, confined to a dark, musty space—but now, he has to maneuver his real body and Mechamaru at the same time. It’s a bit difficult to multitask, having to move in two different locations at the same time.
He can’t possibly complain, though. This is everything he’s ever wanted. He always dreamed of walking on his own. Of being free. And thanks to you, at long last, it’s become a reality.
You saved him, even though he’s one of the reasons you were kidnapped in the first place, and yet… he abandoned you.
Kokichi winces at the thought. Itadori was furious with him, angrier than Kokichi had ever seen him, and rightfully so. He can’t believe he left you all alone with Mahito, the very cursed spirit who’s determined to make you his. Of course, you screamed at him and practically begged him to leave. He knows that. He couldn’t bear to go against your wishes, not after everything you’d already done for him, but he really should have thought of another plan.
At the very least, he could have kept a safe distance and brainstormed a way to help. If only he’d had Mechamaru with him right then and there. He could have supported you without incurring any risk to his actual body. Surely you would have been okay with that.
The past can’t be changed, though, and now, he has to live with the frustration of failing you.
As such, the simplest solution is naturally finding Gojo.
He’s seemingly disappeared without a trace. Based on what Itadori told him, nobody has reported crossing paths with him, not since the very beginning of the Shibuya Incident, and after remotely controlling Mechamaru up until this point, finally, the puppet has closed in on Gojo’s last known location.
“There’s so many of them,” Kokichi mutters, seeing the countless transfigured humans through Mechamaru’s eyes. “This has to be where Gojo Satoru was lured to. The residuals here are especially strong.”
Earlier on in the night, all those people apparently kept chanting for Gojo Satoru to make his appearance. They had been instructed to repeat the same words, over and over again. He was brought here for the sake of the Disaster Curses’ group’s goal.
But what exactly is their goal? Did they really intend to defeat Gojo Satoru somehow? Is that even realistic? Possible?
Despite giving them the necessary information to break into Jujutsu High, he was never made fully aware of the finer details, beyond them wanting to retrieve Sukuna’s fingers. Evidently, bringing Sukuna back is one of their priorities. Once he regains his form, having consumed all twenty fingers, that’s the moment the situation really might be compromised for good.
If that should ever happen, then at the very least, Kokichi hopes Gojo will be able to stop him—but where the hell is Gojo?
Kokichi’s fists clench. There’s just no end to them. Mechamaru has to keep firing down more transfigured humans, one after the other, and there’s a good amount of cursed spirits mixed in with them as well. Kokichi remembers now. One of the group’s members, the human curse user with stitches across his forehead, has the ability to control cursed spirits. It’s an absolute fucking mess, in the purest sense of the word.
And still no sight of Gojo Satoru.
Mechamaru stops firing for a moment, clearing some distance to scan the area more thoroughly. It had to have been here. There are clear traces of a fight. Not only that, but burn marks, littered across the ground.
If he focuses through Mechamaru’s gaze, he can see them. Those clearly belong to Jogo. If Jogo was here, even briefly, then it’s all but certain that he fought Gojo. He must have had help, too.
Still, it’s strange. From what Kokichi was told, Gojo already fought Jogo before, and defeated him with ease. He nearly succeeded in killing him too, but he let his guard down near the end, which allowed Hanami to rescue Jogo at the very last second.
Regardless, if history is any indication, then they shouldn’t have had faith in Jogo to be able to defeat Gojo.
There must have been something else they were putting their hopes in.
If not defeating Gojo outright, then they really must have had some way to restrict him, at the very least. Immobilize him. Prevent him from acting any further.
Kokichi’s eyes widen.
No way, could it be… the Prison Realm?
It’s a special grade cursed object. He recalls learning about it before, since it’s considered taboo and immeasurably dangerous. If it truly does work as intended, then it’s said that there’s nothing it can’t seal.
Supposing they managed to get their hands on such a thing, then suddenly, it makes perfect sense why Gojo is nowhere to be found, and why they were so certain their plan would work.
Fuck. Fuck!
Kokichi didn’t want to believe it could be true, but there’s no other explanation that makes any sense.
“This is horrible,” he mutters, steering Mechamaru forward again.
Is it possible that he might be able to find whoever has the Prison Realm with them? But even if he does, how is he supposed to undo the seal? It can’t be destroyed. And if there is some way to set Gojo free, then sadly, it’s not something he has the ability to do.
I have to find the others.
So far, he’s only run into Itadori and Choso, and that was before he got to the heart of the problem. Some people might still be waiting for Gojo to save them. They might still be counting on him to fix everything.
Above all else, he needs to get help and figure out how they can deal with this.
Kokichi furiously tugs at the roots of his hair. God, he feels sick. He feels sick to his damn stomach, and more regretful than ever before that he temporarily allied himself with these murderers.
If only he’d known. If only he’d realized that there was still kindness awaiting him in this world, he would never have resorted to such pathetic, underhanded methods.
Tears stinging at the corners of his eyes, which burn hot from shame, he continues steering Mechamaru—and at the same time, he takes a step forward.
Only for a sword to come swinging at him.
Kokichi jumps back at the last second, already preparing himself to retaliate. Thank goodness he didn’t, though, because when he stops to get a better look…
“Miwa?”
He blinks, almost convinced he’s seeing things, and the girl blinks back at him. It takes her a second for it to sink in, but eventually it does, and she sheathes her sword.
“Kokichi…?” she mumbles. “Wait. Your body, it’s… it changed. Are you alright? Is it safe for you to walk around all by yourself??”
Kokichi swallows the lump in his throat. Just a second ago, he was devastated, worried about what this all spells for the future, but now, he can hardly think straight on account of how fiercely his cheeks are burning.
Kasumi Miwa. The girl he’s had a crush on ever since they first became classmates. The girl he never dared to dream he’d ever get to meet in person, let alone like this.
And yet, because of you, always because of you, it’s really happening.
He’s able to stand before her like this. To talk to her normally, out in the world, unrestricted by tubes, machines, or the limits of his own body.
Truth be told, he almost breaks down crying right then and there. It’s a miracle he manages to stop himself.
Kokichi hurriedly clears his throat, hoping to mask some of his awkwardness. “[N-Name] helped me. She forced Mahito to act on his Binding Vow, and he healed my body. But… I failed her. I couldn’t even repay her for all that she’s done for me. She told me to leave, so I did. I abandoned her, Miwa. I left her to fight by herself.”
His bottom lip trembles, and this time, tears do break past the surface.
Goddammit. His very first meeting with Miwa in his brand new body, and this is the pitiful sight he shows her.
He’s ashamed, undoubtedly. These days, he can’t stop feeling ashamed, regretful, and desperate to go back and rewrite all the mistakes he’s made. However, nothing has changed in that regard. No matter how miserable and pathetic he may be…
Not once has Miwa ever shunned him.
“I’m sure you had a reason for it,” she says, offering a gentle smile. “You said she’s the one who told you to leave. She must have wanted to keep you safe. Mahito’s really dangerous, isn’t he? You didn’t fail her. She was just trying to look out for you. I just got here, and I still don’t know the entire situation, but let’s help her. Let’s find her and make sure she’s okay. Together.”
Miwa reaches out, grabbing Kokichi’s hand in hers.
He blushes, heart pounding even faster than before. It really is different. His skin isn’t frail and flimsy anymore. He can squeeze her fingers back, and it doesn’t even hurt. He realizes it’s selfish for him to say, when so much is at stake, but right now, genuinely…
He’s never been happier.
Jogo is dead. Granted, this isn’t an unexpected turn of events. He was always meant to die here, against Sukuna, but deep down, you hoped that maybe it wouldn’t happen this time. Even if you were only temporarily allied, you hoped that by some chance, the two of you might be able to outlast Sukuna long enough for Itadori to return. Now that you think about it, maybe that wouldn’t necessarily have been for the best—since he does want curses to dominate over humans—but you find yourself grieving him nevertheless.
Once again, you’re all alone. Your odds of victory, slim as they may have been, at least once felt like they were an actual possibility. But now? Now, you doubt it.
And even after all this time, even after screaming and sobbing your heart out, Itadori has yet to return.
You stare down at the ground, at the spot where Jogo once was, blankly.
I need to get up. I need… to keep fighting.
You keep trying to tell yourself that, repeating the words inside your head, yet they echo hollowly, and your limbs are reluctant to move.
Before you even manage to stand back up, another figure drops to the ground beside you.
“Master Sukuna,” they say, bowing in reverence. “I’ve come to welcome you.”
Sukuna turns, frowning. “Who are you?”
He doesn’t receive an answer right away, but it turns out that he doesn’t have to. The longer he stares, scrutinizing them with his gaze, the more his eyes gradually light up with realization.
“Uraume? Is that you?”
“Yes,” Uraume nods, and a faint smile rises to their lips. “It’s nice to see you again, after all this time.”
“Haha!” Sukuna laughs, his demeanor far more relaxed all of a sudden. He even crosses his arms, grinning widely. “It really has been a while, hasn’t it? I see you’ve changed your appearance. It suits you.”
“I’m flattered that you think so.” Uraume’s eyes briefly drift over towards you, though you’re still moving sluggishly. “If you don’t mind me asking… is this girl important to you? It seems as though you’ve gone out of your way to spare her.”
“She belongs to me,” Sukuna declares. “I think you’ll find her quite interesting. She’s incredibly strong, too. Earlier, she even managed to injure me. I suppose I wasn’t taking her seriously enough, but still—”
He abruptly falls silent. You’re not sure why, and your vision is still partially obstructed by all of your tears, but undoubtedly, something has changed. Sukuna’s good mood from encountering Uraume has taken a sudden turn. He’s no longer smiling. Rather, he looks unimaginably pissed off.
That’s when you feel it.
It’s hard to tell, because Sukuna’s cursed energy is plenty overpowering on its own, and you’re right in the middle of a battlefield that’s teeming with residuals—but you swear something’s different all of a sudden. Over there, off into the distance. If you focus, really focus, you can sense it somewhat.
There’s been a spike of cursed energy. And when you think about the timing of it all…
No.
You gasp, immediately stumbling forward. You were too late. You couldn’t fend off Sukuna in time to go and help the others, and now, the worst-case situation has officially taken form. The timing, coupled with the frustrated look on Sukuna’s face… there’s nothing else it can be.
“Master Sukuna?” Uraume blinks.
“I have urgent business to take care of,” he says, and before you can break down any further, he wraps an arm around you. “It won’t be much longer until I’m free, so make sure not to neglect your preparations. I’ll see you soon, Uraume.”
Then, he leaves.
With you.
Keeping you locked in a firm grip, Sukuna propels himself into the air, clearing the distance absurdly fast. He lands just before a devastating, fatal blow can be dealt to Fushiguro, and carries him to safety.
“M-Megumi,” you stammer, eyes wide, tears pouring endlessly now.
He did it. He went through with it after all. It’s obvious just by looking at his injuries; just from seeing what a horrible, broken state he’s in. And when you turn your head…
There, standing in front of you, is Mahoraga.
“These are stab wounds,” Sukuna remarks, lip curled inward in distaste as he gets a proper look at Fushiguro’s body. He releases you, then briefly places his hand against Fushiguro, activating his reverse cursed technique to heal him. “Don’t die yet. There’s still something I need you to do. Either way, those injuries clearly aren’t from the shikigami, now are they?”
He’s right. The fact that he’s been stabbed isn’t surprising, but what is surprising is that his assailant—Haruta—is nowhere to be found. Wasn’t he supposed to still be here? How could he have possibly fled so fast? If some things truly aren’t unfolding like they did in canon, as you’ve already confirmed to be the case, then why?
Why do your worst nightmares always end up coming true?
“There must have been someone else forced into the ritual,” Sukuna says. “But he’s already escaped. I could easily track him down if I really wanted to… although that won’t make a difference. This shikigami will keep attacking until every single participant of the ritual dies, including Fushiguro. I’ll have to defeat him myself if I want the ritual to be void.”
…no.
No, no, no!
This is exactly what you were afraid of. Sukuna’s fight against Mahoraga is the very reason why so many innocent people end up losing their lives. Up until now, as horrible as it was to be brutally destroyed over and over again, at least others weren’t involved. You were not only in a different, more isolated area, away from the majority of the civilians, but Sukuna’s fight against you and Jogo still wasn’t anywhere near as intense as what’s about to take place.
The moment Sukuna activates his Domain Expansion, it’s over. The radius is wide enough that it’s bound to reach further than ever before, from all directions. He’ll even finish Mahoraga off with Divine Flame, which will create a massive explosion that’s almost certain to contribute even more to the casualties.
You can’t possibly account for every single detail. You can’t predict what might or might not change at this point. But you know that Mahoraga’s appearance spells utter, inescapable doom. There’s just no way this fight will end without innocent blood spilled—not if Sukuna doesn’t intend to hold back.
Unless somehow, by some miracle, you defeat Mahoraga yourself.
…but how the fuck are you supposed to do that?
“Just to be safe, you should stay out of this,” Sukuna says, cracking his knuckles. “This shikigami is different from me. He won’t hold back, no matter what. He doesn’t care if you live or die. His sole purpose is to obliterate anyone that stands in his path.”
You don’t say anything. You just stand there, motionless, and you can feel your sanity slipping more with every passing second.
“...are you out of your mind?!”
Mahoraga’s fist comes crashing down upon you. Or at least it would have, had Sukuna not grabbed you out of the way in time. You can see him gritting his teeth, looking annoyed beyond measured—and perhaps, strangely enough, even the slightest bit concerned.
“I told you to stay out of it,” he mutters. “And your response is to just stop moving altogether? Is this your way of rebelling against me? Throwing your life away for no good reason?”
It takes a few solid moments for you to even blink.
No, he’s wrong. It’s not that you have a death wish, surprisingly. Even after all you’ve been through, you still don’t want to die. You don’t want to die and abandon everyone to their miserable, gruesome fates. You don’t want to, but… it’s just so exhausting.
Your body is fine. Your wounds heal almost instantaneously, and your cursed energy seemingly can’t ever run out. This is a different kind of exhaustion, one that transcends the physical form. It cuts deep, all the way into your heart—no, your soul.
You want to keep fighting. You have to keep fighting. But if it’s just going to be useless anyway, no matter what you do, then…
What’s the point?
“Stay where I can see you, but don’t get too close,” Sukuna scowls, and this time, he forcefully shoves you aside—instantly preparing himself to deflect one of Mahoraga’s attacks.
He doesn’t have to, however.
Earlier, when Sukuna said that Mahoraga just strikes anyone down indiscriminately, you were inclined to agree with him. He is, after all, an untamed shikigami. He doesn’t follow anyone’s orders. He’s wild, violent, and the purpose of the ritual is for someone to try and make him theirs. Ordinarily, he should target anyone in his vicinity, regardless of who they are.
And yet, ever since Sukuna brought you here, that doesn’t seem to be the case.
Mahoraga keeps turning towards you, and only you.
“Unbelievable,” Sukuna scoffs, nearly rolling his eyes. “You really are too popular for your own good, huh? I feel offended, to be honest. It’s the first time I’ve ever been deliberately ignored like this.”
Mahoraga lunges towards you again, but Sukuna intercepts once more, using Dismantle on him. It slices through Mahoraga’s skin, leaving visible wounds. But then the wheel attached to his body turns, and just like that—the damage is healed.
“So, he really can regenerate,” Sukuna hums. “Interesting. But what about… this?”
He attacks again, but a split second before impact, Mahoraga swings his blade and deflects the attack. It cracks the building behind him instead, and Sukuna can’t help but chuckle for a moment, thoroughly impressed.
“You can see my technique,” he marvels. “Fascinating—”
His words are cut short.
It’s the first time Sukuna finds himself having to actually block someone’s attack. He raises his arms to defend against Mahoraga’s blow, but it carries far more destructive force than he was expecting. He actually gets sent flying backwards for once, hurrying to regain his footing. It’s not as if he’s accumulated any damage. He was just momentarily taken aback by Mahoraga’s speed and power, that’s all.
But there’s a problem. In the brief interval that he gets blown away, that leaves you wide open—and Sukuna’s eyes widen.
It’s true that he was having fun toying with you earlier. He always knew, however, that you would survive. That you could keep up with him, especially since he wasn’t fighting you at full force. But Mahoraga is a different story. Mahoraga won’t hold back. Mahoraga is learning, adapting to any and all attacks as they come. Mahoraga will kill you the very first chance he gets.
And so, the shikigami swings at you, unrestrained, and since you can’t keep up with his speed, your immediate instinct is to block, like Sukuna did.
But at the very last second, you feel something.
You feel it descending from above, right upon you.
…huh?
The ground erupts. Something, or rather, someone comes crashing down so fast that it splits the earth in front of you. And suddenly, you’re aware of someone’s arms, wrapped around you tight, but still unmistakably gentle.
“[Name],” Okkotsu says, eyes softening. “It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay. You don’t have to fight alone anymore.”