"Hehehehehhhe," the monster wearing a boy's skin laughed, euphoria coloring its tone as it stood on the rails and gestured with its hands spread out wide to either side, soaking in the moonlight that slipped past the cloudy skies.
"Ah, I knew it! The light feels best in the flesh."
The sky erupted with a deafening roar as lightning tore through the heavens, followed by the savage rumble of thunder that shook the very earth. The monster halted abruptly, its head whipping toward the distant horizon with such violent speed that, if it was anything less than what it was, Megumi was certain the sheer force of the movement would have snapped its neck. "There it is again, is it the same person?" the reincarnated sorcerer spoke out loud.
There was a certain amount of anticipation in the words. Megumi shook his head and stopped himself from reading meaning into them as he tried in vain to clear his head, but his vision remained bloody while he stayed on the ground. Getting distracted on a job was a rookie mistake he should've been above. But he had been unable to help it, too focused on what was happening farther away. They had not been as sneaky as they thought. Sending him away on this fool mission had been a way to occupy him.
"Where would he be, how long would it take to get there, oh what fun would be had!" The sorcerer laughed with joy, but Megumi found it hard to listen or even care, not while he lay bleeding out.
Leaving him behind, Jokes on them that it had escalated and turned into something else—the return of the most feared sorcerer in history.
He was left with two options as he forced himself up, his hands over his stomach as he held his guts inside. Sukuna's focus was on the euphoria he was experiencing at his rebirth, and his interest in something far beyond Megumi. He knew it had something to do with the weird weather even though there was no sign of rain. Whatever it was, It was enough to keep it distracted and its attention away from Megumi's broken form.
So Megumi looked at his options, attention drifting as he continued to lose blood. He had focused on subjugating his curses alongside his father, which meant that while he had stronger curses to pick from than his favorite demon dogs, it also meant his actual training in cursed energy and his ability to manifest more than one curse had not grown as much.
That was one of the reasons they had agreed to him coming to the school. So he was left with two choices: summon the one curse he had that he knew could heal him, or summon his most lethal curse. Whichever curse he summoned would probably be the last time he could use his technique, as activating it would draw the attention of the reincarnated sorcerer.
In another life, it would've been a no-brainer. He wouldn't have had much reason to live on, other than vague promises of waking up his sister. He would've been unmotivated and tired. A boy whose greatest achievement was having the potential to match the strongest. This was not that life.
His dream of waking his sister up, and laughing with her once more was not just a pipe dream anymore. It was a reality that he knew was in the process of happening. What did it matter if he won her, and died before he met his sister once again.
So when he forced himself to his feet and released his guts, allowing them to fall out and hang to his knees, even as the blood loss forced him to stagger, he slapped his hands together, forming a shape—one hand straight, the other overlapping it in an inverted claw shape. The words that left his lips were, "Ten Shadows: Round Deer."
Ryomen Sukuna's head turned, and he glared at him with those malevolent four eyes, and Megumi matched It's glare with one of his own. He was not dying here.
...
"Are you sure about this?" Shoko had asked him with a frown.
There were only three of them here, in his room at the darkest hour of the night. They gathered and plotted.
He sat on the bed, hands clasped under his chin as he thought. "Is there any other way?" he finally replied. A question for a question. Her only response was a frown as she turned to Satoru.
Hoping his older cousin would disagree or disabuse him of the notion and the risk he was ready to take.
Satoru stared at him with those eerie blue eyes, and Jiki could see the calculation going on in them. He watched his cousin weigh the risk and knew the answer he would come to before even Satoru did. So he tilted the conversation another way.
He needed a way to tip Satoru's opinion. A way to put their desire for an answer above his own well-being.
"I'm not simply taking this risk for Toji Fushiguro and the girl's sake. The soul that is leeching off hers can be the answer to whoever this third player is. The person that Yuta saw with the cursed spirit that killed Geto."
He saw the minute twitch in Satoru's facial muscles, and it broke his heart to see his manipulation work.
Because somehow, Satoru still felt responsible for Geto's death. His cousin was forced to weigh the possibility of what it meant to go through with this against his desire to see his misguided friend avenged.
That was what finally set the course in Satoru's mind as his cousin's frown deepened before nodding in agreement. After all, despite his frantic search, he had found zero clues on the mystery man.
"It's too risky," Shoko replied, blowing up smoke as she raised her hands over her head in exasperation.
"Yes, it is, but I'll be there," Satoru finally decided to add to the conversation. His eerie blue eyes hardened.
There was a confidence in that proclamation that eased the furrow in Shoko's brow the slightest, but the resident healer could be stubborn when she wanted to. So she changed tack.
"You said you were not certain it would work."
And Jiki kept silent at that. He could not exactly explain to them that he had done something similar in a past life. So instead, he shrugged and answered vaguely.
"The abilities that come with my eyes are… instinctive. There are no manuals or a written guide I can follow. I can only depend on my gut. And it says something can be done."
Shoko scowled at his reply as she chewed on the butt of her cigarette. He could see the crease on her brow as she was forced to try to work something out, another angle she could come at it from.
And when she found nothing, she brought her eyes up to stare into his orbs of swirling red and black.
"Bah, fine. Do whatever you want," she said with a raised hand in exasperation as she stood up and began to walk away, leaving the two Gojos to bask in the silence that her presence formed.
"Are you certain?"
Satoru's voice was a barely heard whisper, but Jiki heard it all the same. No, he wasn't. Not in the slightest. But this was the only card left to them. This was the only card that would give them some idea of what they faced.
The higher-ups were a known factor that could be accounted for. Same with the Zenin, however erratic they had begun to move in the past few months. Which left the sole complete variable, the hidden figure that tipped its hand.
"Yes," Jiki lied smoothly. His tone, his heartbeat, his pulse. He gave nothing up as he turned to look Satoru in his eyes. It was a perfect lie, more perfect than anything he had ever said.
So when Satoru looked him in the eyes, he stared back.
...
Words could hardly capture the revere of calling forth the divine.
"Susanoo."
A familiar and comforting presence descended as the skies darkened rapidly, torn apart by the ferocious dance of thunder and lightning. The wind roared to life, whipping through the area with an almost sentient force, stirring everything in its path. Even Satoru, perched high above, felt its fury as it ruffled his hair, yet the white-haired man didn't blink, his gaze fixed.
It began as it always did—the click and clatter of bones forming, a spine materializing and snapping into place behind him. This was swiftly followed by a rib cage that burst forth from both sides, enveloping him in a protective embrace. The final act was the sudden emergence of four massive arms, shooting out from the scapula like the limbs of a spectral giant.
A breath later, ephemeral muscles started to weave over the bones, flowing like liquid as they enveloped the gigantic frame. Then, the armor descended—unlike the gradual formation of bone and muscle, the armor manifested in an instant, with the brilliance of a lightning strike. Jiki stood, now encased within the imperfect Susanoo, noting the speed and the subtle changes in this activation.
The Susanoo felt heavy, imbued with a weight he wasn't accustomed to. Yet, It didn't hinder him; as he raised his hands to inspect them, the Susano's hands mirrored his and moved with fluid grace, fingers flexing with effortless precision.
The relentless thunder and lightning reminded him that something was undeniably different about his techniques. It had begun slowly, first with Amaterasu, then Kagutsuchi, but now this? He couldn't ignore the shift any longer.
He stared out of the Susanoo, and straight at Utahime who had a rapturous expression on her face, hand clasped together with tears in her eyes as she stared at him.
He was suddenly reminded of the second price he would pay for her aid—a meeting with the head shrine maidens. Perhaps they would have an answer for this change.
His attention shifted back to the others, each wearing expressions of shock and disbelief. It was one thing to name a technique after a god; it was another entirely to witness its divine birth and creation.
The only person unfazed was Satoru, standing with a smile and eyes glowing brightly.
"That is something," Shoko noted as she recovered faster than the others, already snapping pictures. "I'm sure these would sell for a fortune."
An elbow to her waist ended her photo shoot as Utahime replied with a scowl. "You are not going to sell these."
Principal Yagi chuckled at the scene, with what was probably his first laugh in weeks. "You've been hanging out with Mei Mei too much, and it shows."
Jiki's attention drifted to the last person, and he was not surprised to see the mad grin on Toji's face. The scarred man stood on the toes of his feet, body coiled like a snake as he stared at Jiki inside his Susanoo. Jiki was forced to remember that Toji was the first person to lay eyes on it, what felt like decades ago. What surprised him was the fact that the Heavenly Restriction user was able to see it in the first place.
"I'm ready." And just like that, those two words drained the joviality of the scene as everyone's features hardened with seriousness.
The wine bottle that housed the special-grade curse sat heavy in the lower right hand of his Susanoo. His left hand remained empty as he had not bothered to call forth the Yata Mirror. There would be no true fight here.
The upper right hand snapped open, and when he called forth the Sword of Totsuka from the sake jar, the liquid ephemeral blade was all too eager to answer the call. It sprang out of the jar and into his hands, twisting and rolling in his grip. The Totsuka blade was only a sword in the vaguest sense.
A second later, something else blurred out of the jar and landed in front of him.
"Kikikikikikikiki."
Jorogumo laughed as she stretched. Her presence was still a heavy thing that would have surprised the unwary, but after witnessing his Susanoo's manifestation, they ignored it the best they could. Coupled with their preparation, the centuries-old curse spirit was left with a crowd that was not impressed.
"That was more comfortable than that stuffy straw doll," Jorogumo admitted as she tilted her head to look at him with a seductive smile. She was just how he remembered her. Pale white skin, fine features with a dash of red on her lips, and oily black hair that flowed down to her waist.
The dots on her forehead remained, giving her an exotic look, but he was not fooled. He remembered them snapping open and revealing eyes, while her luxurious kimono hid the spider leg appendages that almost took off his head.
The curse looked around and smiled sickly. She could already feel the effects of standing on sacred and consecrated ground. Her eyes flitted around, taking them all in before she opened her lips once more.
"A child born of that wretched sorcerer-turned-cursed-spirit with the annoying eyes to match. A man unshackled by the whims of fate. And you, my beautiful little impossibility. All for little Jorogumo?" she said with a voice like silk and stood with a pout and a certain amount of vulnerability.
What were they doing? Already, he could see Principal Yaga, Utahime, and Shoko frown in confusion and Jiki could understand their sudden reluctance. Were they really bullying this fragile young maiden?
Maiden?
He blinked. Without much effort, he searched for it and found the thread of cursed energy she had laced into her voice in his own system. An auditory genjutsu? He flared his cursed energy and dissolved it. He blinked again.
In that split second where his focus wavered, she vanished—a blur of motion so swift it left the air trembling in her wake. The moment Jiki's eyes shot open, he saw the curse crashing to the ground on one knee and two hands, her second leg severed, sent flying by a devastating strike from Toji, the only one unaffected by her genjutsu.
Jorogumo let out a sultry laugh, as if losing a limb in the blink of an eye was nothing more than an inconvenience. Her spider leg appendages snapped out, digging into the ground with an audible crack, tension coiling through them like loaded springs before she rocketed away again.
But Satoru was faster.
He dropped from the sky like a vengeful god, his form a blur of white and blue. His right hand, locked into a knife-edge, slashed through the air, aiming for her neck with the precision granted by the six eyes. Yet, at the last possible moment, Jorogumo twisted mid-air, her body contorting in ways that defied the human anatomy she mimicked. Instead of severing her head clean off, Satoru's blow tore a ragged path through her left shoulder, slicing through flesh, bone, and the spider-like appendages that sprouted from that side.
But the curse was old and relentless.
Even as blood sprayed and muscle tore, her previously severed leg was already regenerating, sinew and bone weaving themselves back together with horrifying speed. She landed heavily, but with feline grace, her movements a twisted ballet of power and desperation. With a snarl, she barely avoided Satoru's returning backhand, the force of his swing cracking the air behind her as she leaped skyward once more. She was running.
But this time, she was slower.
Her half-regenerated body betrayed her, the effort of healing sapping her strength. She barely had time to react before a red, spectral hand, massive and clad in ethereal armor, slammed into her side. The impact was bone-shattering, the force behind it crushing her ribs and sending a shockwave through her entire body. Before she could react, the hand closed around her like a vice, its grip unyielding, leaving only her head free.
Everything had happened in two seconds.
"Haaaaahahahhahah!" Jorogumo's laughter echoed through the shrine, a wild, unhinged sound that rattled the very stones beneath them. "I haven't had this much fun in centuries! Such coordination! Such strength!" Her eyes flicked between the two sorcerers and the lone human who had interrupted her escape, but inevitably, her gaze settled on Jiki, who stood within his Susanoo, his expression as placid as a still pond.
Only now did Principal Yagi, Shoko, and Utahime even realize something had happened.
"I have a deal for you," Jiki's voice cut through the chaos, calm and collected as if the past few seconds had not happened
"Oh?" Jorogumo's tone was laced with curiosity, her six eyes narrowing with interest. "And what would that be?"
"A binding vow."
The curse raised her brows, the intrigue in her eyes deepening, and Jiki continued.
"I want to make use of you—your power and your knowledge. In return, what do you desire?" He continued bluntly. He was not going to out subterfuge the curse spirit with more experience dealing with such things than him.
"And if I'm not interested?" Her voice was almost teasing, but beneath the surface, there was a deadly seriousness. Special-grade curses were monstrous beings, comparable to the weaker Bijuu he was more familiar with, but Jiki had taken down one already and that was alone.
Jiki's gaze swept the battlefield, taking in the positions of Satoru and Toji. They weren't exactly Pain and Kisame, but he knew that the three of them together could annihilate even a centuries-old curse like Jorogumo. His eyes locked back onto hers, and the silent threat was clear.
"Violence then, like a true sorcerer." She laughed. A laughter that slowly tapered out.
A sly smile curled her lips as her six eyes snapped open fully, fixing him with a rapturous, almost lustful gaze.
"I want your your heart," she purred, the words dripping with both desire and menace.
Jiki didn't flinch, didn't even blink. His Susanoo's grip tightened around her, the spectral hand crushing her bones with ease. He had already anticipated her response, already had an idea of the depths of her want for him. That was why he had released her because there was a chance.
"Fine." He answered without any ceremony.
The moment the words left Jiki's lips, the atmosphere shifted. The very air froze. The wind that had been howling through the open space just moments before stilled abruptly, as if the world itself was holding its breath. Even the storm that raged above them, thunder rolling and lightning crackling, paused in its fury. For all of a second, then everything resumed.
"Huh!!" The curse blinked all of its eyes in surprise. Jiki could care less about what she truly wanted, already his brain was working of how to slip the vow.
The grip of his Susanoo slacked just the tiniest bit in good faith as he stared the curse down.
"My first question. How do you separate two souls?"
It took her a second but she replied all the same. "It's impossible for two different souls to completely join together. Most likely, one is simply overpowering the other and suppressing it. So, an inverse of the Kodoku Bath of Soul Subjection should force them both up to the surface," Jorogumo replied with a deepening frown, not truly focused on the topic as she remained deep in thought, most likely wondering why he had accepted so easily.
"The Bath?" Satoru asked from his returned perch high above with a frown. Judging from the way he said it, Satoru didn't like the sound of it.
Jorogumo ignored him, waving a hand lazily in response, so Principal Yagi answered instead. "Yes, it's most likely the bath. This is the first time I've heard the full name but I've seen it in the archives once. It is a heian era ritual, one so evil that the clan that came up with it was slaughtered by the other clans. The only note left of the clan was their cursed techniques that had to do with Ice. That is all that is left of the clan—not even a name."
Jiki thought about the brief history lesson before asking, "The process?"
Principal Yagi frowned in answer., his arms folded around his chest. "I don't know. It is so old that the actual details of the process have been lost to time. Maybe one of the three clans possesses it, but I wouldn't count on that."
Well, they did have a repository of ancient knowledge still with them, so Jiki's attention drifted to the still-thinking curse he had in his hands.
Feeling the sudden stare of multiple people on her, she turned to face them with haughtiness as she spoke. "What?"
Toji was the one to ask this time, his patience fraying. "What is the process?"
She looked at him like he was stupid before replying, "How would I know that? I only heard about it from a pesky meal I ate alive while he screamed before he tried to bribe me with it. Like I would ever be interested in such nonsense. vessels and what not."
And just like that, they were reminded that even if the curse could disguise it well enough, at the end of the day, she was not human. Not in the slightest.
Which left Jiki with his original last-ditch plan—severing the bond between Tsumiki and the soul in her body. Something he had not truly done. The one time he replicated the feat, he had instead forced Orochimaru to manifest by pushing his brother to the edge of death and almost killing him.
"Then we'll try it my way," Jiki spoke up once again. It was always going to turn out this way.
"Are you sure?" Toji appeared in front of him, staring him down. Jiki thought about it for a second before deciding to lie once again—an act that was as easy as breathing for him.
"Yes."
The scarred man stared him in the eye for long seconds before nodding and stepping aside.
The group watched in unison as Jiki reversed the Totsuka blade and held it above the still form of Tsumiki. Even Jorogumo paused her internal contemplation to take in the scene.
With a decisive plunge, the ethereal blade sank into Tsumiki. Jiki felt a peculiar sensation as the blade penetrated her skin without leaving a mark. There he saw two indistinguishable figures that were folded into a fetus shape and between the two of them, he sensed something. Something he could not make head off, so he refocused on the duo.
Just as he had suspected, there were two presences. One carried the weight of age and power, heavy and oppressive. The other was more of a blank slate—young and resilient. And this time when he looked between them, he saw it again. There was a seam, a faint crack—a thin line between the two souls he could feel through his blade.
It was a small, elusive thing, barely noticeable. He wasn't entirely sure what he was seeing. But hesitation had no place here. Not in a pseudo-spiritual surgery.
With a careful twist, he wrenched the blade sideways, catching the older and twisted soul in the sweep as it continued. The blade's power gripped the old soul and dragged it out.
The instant the sword left Tsumiki's body, she arched her back like a feral cat, her scream tearing through the air—only to be echoed by another voice. In a heartbeat, Toji was on her, pressing her down into the floor with effortless strength, while Shoko was right behind him.
Jiki let them handle it as he focused on the second scream's source: his blade. It looked like a lock of black hair, tangled around his blade as it tried to escape its pull. But Jiki was not worried, instead, he turned to Principal Yagi, who gave a confirming nod.
Jiki buried his sword into the prototype humanoid puppet standing beside the older man—a hollow vessel. Almost immediately, the puppet began to scream, its voice going hoarse before it suddenly stilled alongside Tsumiki.
He felt a cold chill run down his spine as uncertainty clouded his thoughts. Had they been wrong? Had his gamble truly failed? What did this mean for Aiko? He grounded his doubts and threw them into a corner of his mind, as he reverted into using apathy as a shield.
After what felt like an eternity, a soft voice broke the silence. "Toji?"
The question hung in the air as they all turned to the girl on the floor. Jiki's lips curved into a smile cracking his mask of apathy. Their gamble had worked. The act of forcibly separating the two souls had jolted them awake.
"What! Separating two souls manually, and only using the blade of totsuka to move one soul to a hollow vessel should be impossible, Unless..." Jorogumo said, her voice trailing off as she refocused on Jiki. The usual sultry look was gone, replaced by something more... hesitant.
It tried to be slippery, but Jiki noticed the moment its hand twitched for the first time, and he allowed his gaze to shift back to the humanoid puppet, now struggling to stand on unfamiliar limbs. As it found its footing, its head twisted, taking in the people around it and the sudden attention it had drawn.
"Well, damn," it muttered, "this was not what that creepy bastard promised me."