With a single step, Jiki manifested in what was supposed to be Yuji's inner world. The transition was seamless and born of honed skill, but the moment his foot touched down, ankle-deep in cool, shallow water, he realized something was wrong. A faint pulse in the atmosphere warned him, and the oppressive weight that pressed down on his senses made it clear. He had overstepped.
There was a distinct feeling that always accompanied the true essence of a being and where that essence resided was the inner world. For a jinchūriki, it was an even more intense experience, as they were forced to share this space with their often unwilling partners.
The Sharingan wasn't just a weapon; it was a way in. It gave a skilled user the chance to slip into that space where two beings shared one body, exploiting the fragile balance between them. While it didn't automatically unlock a jinchūriki's inner world, the cracks were easier to find. The dōjutsu's natural affinity for genjutsu provided the necessary bridge.
And yet, as Jiki stood there, the oppressive atmosphere that hung heavy on the air told him this was far beyond what he had anticipated. The water that rippled away from his intrusion, the unsettling quiet, and the unnatural stillness that lingered made it clear that this was more than the Yuji's mindscape.
He had been in the inner worlds of jinchūriki before, but they were not like this. Never this overwhelming. This spoke of something deeper than a mindscape.
"Ho… what audacity. To step in here without an invitation." The voice that broke the silence was low, bored, yet tinged with a hint of amusement. It echoed around him, rippling through the water at his feet.
Jiki's gaze lifted from his reflection in the water, eyes narrowing as they took in the figure before him. Seated atop a colossal, red yet blackened shrine, legs crossed as if he were a king surveying his kingdom, was an exact replica of the pink-haired boy, Itadori. But there were subtle differences. The languid yet alert posture, the old white kimono, the prison band tattoos, and others coiled beneath the clothes, but the most obvious was the additional two eyes beneath the original pair, coupled with a presence…
The shrine itself was ancient, built of cracked stone, and a crimson torii gate that marked its entrance. Just after that was a giant mouth, stripped of flesh and muscle, leaving only the fangs and teeth of a beast lost to time. Surrounding the shrine were even more colossal bones that cradled the sinister and twisted replica of a shrine in an embrace, rib bones stretched up to the black-clouded sky.
It was in the widened fanged maw that the being sat, on what Jiki approximated to be a tongue judging from the established anatomy. The air felt thick, as though it was alive with malice, and the oppressive weight of the being's presence was almost suffocating.
"Ryōmen Sukuna," Jiki said in confirmation as he took in the bored monster in the guise of a child.
Sukuna sat lazily, draped in his white robe that contrasted sharply with the dark shrine, one hand resting casually on his knee. His eyes, four of them, gleamed with a predatory intensity as they bore into Jiki. Above his head, talismans dangled from a crumbling archway.
Jiki could feel the weight of Sukuna's presence bearing down on him. An overwhelming power that threatened to consume anything caught within it. His original assumptions coming here had been wrong. This was not merely a mindscape or an inner world. This was a domain, a twisted, grotesque reality where Sukuna would reign supreme.
Jiki felt his jaw tighten in annoyance before making a conscious effort to relax it. This was far from what he had expected when he sought to enter the boy's inner world. While he had planned on facing the millennia-old sorcerer, he had not expected to appear right in the palm of Sukuna's hand.
"You dare intrude here, insect?" Sukuna's lips curled into a cruel smirk, his voice dripping with arrogance. "Barging into my domain so carelessly?"
Jiki straightened and stared up at the seated figure, forcing his thoughts and calculations to the back of his mind. This was no time for hesitation. Yet before he could let out his first words, he could see Sukuna was already growing bored at his continued silence. The only sign of danger was the brief flicker of cursed energy and a dismissive gesture.
"Begone."
Jiki's Sharingan spun at that same instant sharpening his awareness as he forced himself into a half-crouch. He could barely see it—not in a domain where attacks were bound to hit due to reverse causality—but Jiki was not useless either. He locked his two arms in front of him as a shield and lowered his stance before the gesture was completed or the words even left Sukuna's lips.
"Falling Blossom Emotion."
An instant later, a flash of pain exploded through his arms. His vision flickered, but he held his ground. He felt a cut, so deep it it cleaved through his skin, partway through the muscles of his forearms, stopping just shy of the bone. His body screamed, any deeper, and his bones would have been exposed. But he was alive.
The blow had sent him further back, but a quick application of his reversed water-walking using cursed energy had simply sent him sliding back instead of being thrown away.
Between the narrow gap of his torn forearms, Jiki's eyes flickered through, a singular malevolent red and black eye locking onto Sukuna. Even in the face of the curse's four widened, surprised eyes, Jiki's gaze remained cold, almost apathetic. He had been slow—caught off guard by the sudden shift into Sukuna's domain—but despite that, Falling Blossom Emotion had worked. It dulled the blow, allowing him to withstand it, though not without injury.
His arms throbbed with pain, but Jiki's Sharingan remained steady, analyzing, calculating. He hadn't known what to expect, but now he did. A cut? his mind began to run. One that couldn't be seen. Was this Sukuna's technique?
"Ho, you survived that." This time Sukuna shifted his posture, sitting up to truly look at Jiki for the first time. Those four eyes trailed his figure before finally resting on his own eyes, and Jiki could see the spark of curiosity reignite.
He let his hands drop, reverse cursed energy already working overtime to heal them, mending the torn flesh, and stitching the ripped skin. Unfortunately, he was not as good as Satoru was. Not yet at least.
Still, the fact that he felt this much physical pain meant that this body was not simply a projection. Or if it was, then unlike regular projections, whatever happened to him here was mimicked on his true body.
He had just gotten past the second stage of learning how to use the reverse cursed technique. Yet the act remained a conscious effort for him. He had to actively change his cursed energy from negative to positive in his brain, then begin to send it down to the body. This was the second stage that stumped most people.
The blood-brain barrier. For Satoru, Toji Fushiguro's strike to the head had helped him more than he was likely ever going to admit. The trauma to the brain had compromised that barrier and had allowed Satoru to move the positive cursed energy to the rest of his body.
Jiki, devoid of someone to stab him in the head, had taken the harder and slower path.
"An Anti-Domain technique that reduces the impact of an attack… one I've never encountered before," Sukuna began, his voice low as he dissected Jiki's move with the same precision Jiki had used to analyze his domain. His eyes narrowed, curiosity tinged with disdain. "Who are you, brat?" he asked, breaking the silence and his own train of thought.
Jiki rolled his shoulders in response, eyes moving from Sukuna to the boundary of the domain, but he was not so discourteous as to ignore a question. "Gojo. Gojo Jiki and I would like to request an audience with you." He replied politely.
His part said, and his observation finished, he sat down on the water, one leg crossed while the other was raised, and his right arm rested on the raised knee. He was in a lower position staring up at the elevated Sukuna in the seat of his power. The act of sitting down alone should have signified weakness, but the empty stare he sent the incarnated sorcerer, coupled with his utterly relaxed posture and apathy, made it look like he was the one humoring the millennia-old sorcerer.
Sukuna grinned and moved to speak before another voice intruded. "Um, what exactly is going on?" Itadori Yuji asked from somewhere to the side.
The kid had woken up then, Jiki noted, but he didn't turn away from staring at Sukuna, and Sukuna didn't turn away either. With each passing second they locked eyes, the grin on Sukuna's face only grew wider. The act of entering the boy's inner world and Sukuna's domain had dragged the pink-haired teen along, but for some reason, he had appeared unconscious. So neither Sukuna nor Jiki had paid the kid any attention until now.
"Such insolence," Sukuna remarked with a chuckle. "I would take great pleasure in shattering such pride." He leaned back into his twisted throne, an air of casual menace surrounding him. "But I find myself bored. So speak, supplicant, before I decide to exert more effort in removing you from my presence."
The atmosphere shifted. The already heavy aura of menace redoubled, but Jiki shrugged it off with ease. He started with praise.
"Ryuomen Sukuna. You are one of the oldest and most powerful recorded sorcerers. You must have gathered knowledge as you aged, so tell me." Jiki's voice was steady, more confirmation than curiosity. "What do you know of the Bath ritual?"
Sukuna remained silent, his eyes half-lidded but gleaming with interest. His face, unreadable and unnervingly calm, made it unclear whether he was intrigued or merely entertaining Jiki.
Jiki, undeterred by the lack of response, continued. "I'm sure you know of it, but are you aware of the counter-ritual?"
This time, Sukuna's lips twitched, curling into a slow, dangerous smile like he knew something. His eyes, sharp flicked up to meet Jiki's. He leaned back against his shrine, the amusement in his gaze intensifying as if weighing the worth of the question.
"The counter-ritual, you say?" Sukuna's voice was rough, "Do you think I, of all people, would need something so… mundane?"
Jiki's gaze remained fixed, unflinching. He had expected as much from Sukuna. This was a test of patience. He doubted the man would let go of his knowledge easily.
"Fine," Sukuna said, his tone firm. "What if I have this knowledge? What price are you willing to pay for it?"
"Do you think this is a good idea, Jiki-san?" Itadori interjected with confusion at what was going on.
Of course, It wasn't. Jiki was desperate, not foolish. Whatever deal he made here would be sealed with a binding vow. Yet this was Aiko he was talking about.
He would go into the darkest pits for her. This was not the first time he would be dealing with a devil, and this time, this particular devil had what he desired.
"Name it," he stated, as he looked up at Sukuna.
"Kill this insufferable brat and swallow my fingers instead," Sukuna replied immediately, a thin smile stretching across his lips. "He has become thoroughly bothersome, and I'd prefer to rid myself of his suppression and presence sooner rather than later."
Jiki frowned in response, refusing the instinctive need to glance at a surprised Yuji. The pink-haired kid had stepped back with wide eyes, which was exceedingly smart of him, because for a second Jiki considered the offer.
The boy could have been dead before he even knew it. Faster than he could blink and as painless as any. Yet, "I'm leaving him in your care, Jiki-kun." Simple yet trusting words that were followed by a bright smile.
He would have to take that path again. A path where he had to hurt someone who loved him to achieve his goals, where he would have to betray his family once more.
He turned around to face Yuji with a stoic expression. "Come, Itadori-san, our time here is done."
As he did, the air thickened with palpable anger and rage, a warning that Jiki was all too familiar with.
"You dare!" Sukuna's voice rang out, fury laced within each syllable. Jiki anticipated the attack, and prepared for the inevitable backlash. So even turned away, he had been ready. This time he was not going to face the brunt of the attack on his fragile form like before. He didn't bother calling out the technique's name; his will alone would suffice.
With a surge of cursed energy, Jiki felt the ribcage of his Susanoo materialize around him, spectral bones shimmering as liquid muscles filled the gaps, forming a single arm.
The red spectral arm reached out, intercepting the invisible blade aimed at him, and slapping it aside with a resonant thud. The only evidence of the clash was a deep gouge carved into the bones.
His counter had worked just as he had calculated, activating 'Falling Blossom Emotion' over the ethereal yet solid form of his Susanoo.
Continuing forward, Jiki dismissed the monstrous presence behind him. When he reached Itadori, he firmly clasped a hand over the pink-haired boy's shoulder. "It's time to go, Itadori-san."
He cast a glance back, locking eyes with Sukuna. A single swirling scarlet eye bore into Sukuna's four, and Jiki saw the incarnated sorcerer perched at the edge of his throne, the armrest crushed beneath his grip, his upper body leaning forward in rapt attention.
Gone was the disinterest and callousness that Sukuna had displayed earlier.
"You're the one!"
Jiki was not sure what he was talking about, nor did he care. A domain was usually impossible to escape from the inside, but that was when it was manifested in reality. In this world of the soul, all Jiki had to do was cut off his own genjutsu, allowing the recoil to do the rest.
A split second later, he was standing on solid ground once more. A cool draft tussled his hair while he took a breath. The smell of cool air, instead of the bloody air that filled the domain, and the sight of the familiar ground as well as the environment was enough to make him certain.
They were back.
Itadori tripped back in surprise, staring down at his hands at the rapid shift in everything.
"W-what was that?" he asked, lifting his head up to stare at Jiki. So Jiki replied with a shrug.
"That was Ryuomen Sukuna, and I wouldn't advise you to go back there," Jiki said, scanning the surroundings before nodding at a wandering maid to catch her attention.
"That encounter wasn't as fruitful as I'd hoped, but that's on me for expecting any genuine assistance from him. Sukuna isn't cursed with the same infatuation that Jorogumo has for me."
He turned back to the boy, who still gazed up at him with apprehension. Jiki couldn't blame him; after what he had thrust the kid into, a little uncertainty was only natural. With a gentle gesture, he extended a hand toward the boy.
"Would you like to join me for some tea?"
The boy recognized the gesture for what it was and smiled back, extending his own hand. "I prefer a cold cola."
Jiki pulled the kid up, watching as he dusted himself off just as the maid reached them.
"Prepare a dining area for me and Satoru's guest," he instructed her.
The maid made a curt bow and began to walk away, but he called her back. "And get an extra set of plates for Satoru as well." He doubted his cousin would be gone for long.
In that time, he planned to be the perfect host and learn more about the boy—the pink-haired kid who smiled so brightly, despite sharing his body with a monster. For a fleeting moment, he caught a glimpse of another boy with blonde hair and blue eyes, his familiar bright smile overlapping with Yuji's.
Jiki blinked the image away, shaking off the memory as he began to lead the way.
…
Jiki noted the boy was a ravenous eater with a smile.
Itadori shoved food down his mouth by the mouthful, yet whatever he lacked in etiquette, he made up for by not trying to speak until he had gulped the mouthful he already had in his mouth.
"That was awesome," the teen admitted with a smile as he took a swig of the drink beside him.
Yet despite his boisterous persona, Jiki sensed the underlying apprehension in Itadori's tone.
"You're worried," he noted flatly as he set aside his half-finished noodles and chopsticks. Itadori let out a chuckle before replying.
"That obvious?"
"It's not", Jiki admitted. The kid hid it well, but not enough for it to get past him. "I'm simply... very perceptive."
"Well, shouldn't I be? Gojo-san said I might be executed if the elders didn't agree with what he had to offer."
Jiki blinked in response before letting out a thin smile. The meeting was only a formality. If the boy was still alive over a day after becoming Sukuna's vessel, then Satoru must've seen something in him that he liked. Enough to most likely protect him from the higher-ups' wrath. Another beneath the great umbrella that was Satoru's presence amid the storm that was the Jujutsu society.
"You shouldn't," Jiki finally replied, picking up his chopsticks and digging into his food again. "There is no greater security than Satoru."
The kid made to speak again, but another voice interjected.
"You should listen to him, you know."
"Ahhhh," Itadori exclaimed with surprise before jerking and falling backward.
Jiki ignored the continued horrible dining etiquette stoically as he gave a nod at Satoru.
His cousin grinned at him in response before sending him a double thumbs-up.
"When did you get here?" Itadori asked from his spot on the ground, struggling to his feet once more.
"A few seconds ago," Jiki answered in his cousin's place. Satoru had already filled up his plate and was digging into it with his mouth full already. If Jiki was forced to bear the presence of two people with poor dining etiquette, he was not certain he would be able to stop himself from simply unleashing an Amaterasu in the room and running off.
"So…"
Jiki gave a look at Satoru the moment he almost replied to the teen with his mouth full. The look must've been properly scathing because Satoru hurriedly swallowed the food in his mouth and drank a cup of water before replying.
"Your execution has been suspended."
Itadori's features brightened up. "That's good, right?"
"Suspended, not rescinded?" Jiki asked for clarification, turning Itadori pale slightly at the realization.
Satoru smiled in response before continuing. "It was suspended on the basis that a deal was made."
"Which is?"
Instead of replying to Jiki, Satoru turned to face Itadori instead. "We feed you the remaining Sukuna's fingers. When you have all twenty, that is when we execute you."
Itadori's eyes widened at the news, but Jiki's crimson pair narrowed, his brain going over the words as he immediately picked up on the loophole in the deal. Satoru never stated how fast he would feed Itadori the fingers; there was no specific timeframe, which made it open-ended and easy to exploit.
"So I'll still die," Itadori acknowledged somberly, head down as he slowly played with his food while deep in thought. Jiki doubted he had picked up on the loophole. The kid probably thought his lifespan amounted to months, but judging by the smirk on Satoru's face, that couldn't be further from the truth.
"What would happen if Sukuna incarnated somewhere else? In another person's body. Someone that can't stop him like I can?"
Jiki raised an eyebrow at that. The kid was the one at risk of dying, yet he was more worried about a hypothetical case with hypothetical deaths. Still, Satoru answered him as seriously as his cousin was able to.
"There would be deaths, lots of them. We would probably put a stop to it, but it doesn't change the fact that something like that would lead to some sort of calamity. Already there are deaths from curses we call finger bearers, curses that had devoured his power, an act that takes them from regular grade curses to special grades."
"Like the curse that tried to eat the finger in the school. It wanted to become a finger bearer?"
Satoru gave a quick thumbs-up, already shoving food in his mouth once more.
The kid remained silent, but he had stopped stirring his food. When he raised his head and stared up at Jiki, the resolve in those brown eyes shocked him enough that he almost dropped his chopsticks in surprise.
"I'll do it," Itadori stated with conviction, enough to halt Satoru as well.
"Why?" Jiki found himself asking.
The kid smiled in response. "So no one else would have to."
Jiki stared back in response, crimson, and black eyes staring deep into brown, searching for the lie. A lie, any lie. He found none. The kid must have misinterpreted his stare because he laughed and scratched the back of his head in response.
"That sounded way cooler in my head, but I mean it. I'm not scared of dying, especially when it is a death with meaning."
Jiki felt the bizarre sensation that he was talking to that blonde-haired boy again. Asking him why he would go so far for a boy that was not his blood. A boy that rejected him, and the answer he had gotten then was similar to this. Honesty and conviction with the simple desire to do good.
He was immediately hit with nausea, an overwhelming sensation of realities overlapping. Satoru decided to speak at that moment, drawing Itadori's attention.
"The first one sounded just as cool, Yuji-kun."
Itadori smiled brightly, and Satoru continued as Jiki mastered himself, pushing away the déjà vu and nausea that plagued him.
"Anyway, since you've agreed, the first step is joining the new class of students at Jujutsu High."
"With Megumi?" Itadori replied with hope in his eyes, the dark topic that had been the focus seconds ago discarded.
"Yep," Satoru answered. "Jiki here is also a student, although he's your upperclassman, so you guys won't get to interact much."
A phone rang, and it took Jiki almost a full minute to realize it was coming from his pocket. That was how out of it he was. Satoru gave him a questioning look, one that Jiki interpreted as 'Are you alright?'
He inclined his head in response. 'I'll be fine.'
He picked up the phone and put it to his ear. "Gojo Jiki here."
"Hey Jiki, it's Utahime. Would you be available anytime soon?"
Jiki gave it a thought. The meeting with the shrine maidens. They were an old order, almost certainly older than the modern Jujutsu society. Perhaps they would have the answers he sought. He was about to reply with a yes when he felt the phone jerk out of his hands.
His eyes followed the floating phone right until it dropped into Satoru's waiting palms. A derivation of blue, then.
His cousin shot him a look, then rolled his eyes at Jiki's frown. "My little Jiki-kun is tired and has been running on fumes for the past few days. Call back later, you low-budget miko."
"What? I don't want to talk to you, bastard! Put the better Gojo back on!"
Satoru gasped in faux shock, one hand over his chest. "Better Gojo? I would have you know, Jiki-kun is the best Gojo-"
Itadori stared in confusion, and Satoru twirled his hand beside his head, mouthing the words 'crazy woman.' Itadori snickered in response, and even Jiki couldn't help but let a slight smile slip through as the conversation quickly devolved into insults.
Satoru wasn't wrong; he had been running on empty. A single day of rest wouldn't change much. Shisui would have said the same thing, and that thought brought a warm smile to his face. He might have lost a cousin in his past life, but he had also gained another one here. One who cared for him just as much as the first.