The morning air hung thick with fog, veiling the grounds of Tokyo Jujutsu High in a pale stillness. The sky had just begun to lighten, streaks of orange barely brushing the edge of the rooftops. Souten stood by the eastern gate, arms crossed, his breath faint in the cold. He looked every bit the part of a sentry — calm, alert, and quietly coiled.
Yuji arrived first, rubbing sleep from his eyes but walking tall. Nobara came next, sharp and composed despite the early hour. Megumi followed, silent and unreadable as always. The mist curled around their ankles, like the world itself was holding its breath.
"We're being deployed," Souten said, without waiting for pleasantries. His voice was even, but it carried weight. "A cursed womb was sealed at a juvenile detention center last week. It vanished sometime during the night."
Yuji blinked. "Vanished? As in... broke out?"
Souten nodded once and turned, already walking. The others followed him on instinct.
"Our mission has two parts," he continued. "You three are to locate and rescue any survivors. My responsibility is to eliminate any cursed spirit that manifests — especially if the womb has already hatched."
Nobara scoffed lightly. "So we're supposed to play search-and-rescue while a potential Special Grade is on the loose?"
"You're not equipped to fight one," Souten said, not unkindly but with finality. "And I won't let you try. If anything escalates beyond your reach, you regroup and retreat. Don't split up. Don't act on impulse. Stay alive."
Yuji scratched his cheek. "You really think it's already transformed?"
"If it hasn't yet, it's only a matter of time," Souten replied. His tone didn't change, but his eyes sharpened. "We don't have the luxury of waiting for confirmation."
They reached the foot of the stone steps, the city stretching wide beneath them. The wind picked up slightly, tugging at their uniforms.
Megumi finally spoke. "And what if it shows up while we're inside?"
Souten paused, just for a breath. Then: "Then I'll find it first."
For a moment, no one spoke. It wasn't fear in their silence — it was focus. The understanding that this mission, unlike their training, could get them killed.
He glanced back at them, eyes steady. "You're not students today," he said. "You're sorcerers. So act like it."
No one replied. But they didn't need to.
As one, they stepped off school grounds and into the fog-draped unknown.
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The detention center loomed against the gray skyline, a fortress of cracked concrete and rusting iron, wrapped in the clinging stench of rot and lingering hatred. Yellow tape flapped weakly in the breeze, a half-hearted barrier to something far more ancient and cruel. The site had been evacuated hours earlier, but the air was still thick with dread — as if the building itself remembered.
Souten walked through the veil of the barrier first. The others followed, and the instant they crossed, it felt like the atmosphere collapsed around them — the air dense and cloying. The chill of morning gave way to a damp, feverish warmth.
Yuji winced. "Ugh... it's like walking into a meat locker... but worse."
"Residual energy," Souten muttered, his voice low. "Heavy and recent. Whatever was in here — it's not anymore."
They were met by Kiyotaka Ijichi, clipboard in hand, nerves barely concealed behind professionalism. His tie was crooked, and his sleeves were slightly rolled, revealing hands that had clearly been wringing themselves for hours.
"Mikazuki-san," he greeted with a nod that was almost a bow. "We had the cursed womb sealed in the lower wing. A reinforced chamber, triple-layered talismans, high-grade spiritual locks. But when we checked this morning... it was just gone."
"Gone?" Nobara repeated, incredulous.
"Vanished," Ijichi confirmed. "There weren't even marks where the seals should've ruptured. It's like it just slipped out."
Megumi's brow furrowed. "No residual tearing or cursed energy spikes?"
"None. Which makes no sense. There should be something."
Souten's jaw flexed, his eyes narrowing. "Then either it was never properly sealed... or someone let it out."
A tense silence followed. Even the building seemed to hold its breath.
He turned to the others, voice steady. "We split up here. Megumi, Nobara, Yuji — take the west wing. Look for survivors. Stay together. Don't engage unless absolutely necessary. If something feels wrong, call for me. Immediately."
The three nodded, a mix of grim focus and tight anticipation settling in. They moved quickly, fading into the dim, pulsing corridors of the detention center.
Souten lingered.
The lights overhead buzzed faintly, flickering like dying stars. Every breath felt like it carried weight, like the air itself didn't want to be disturbed.
There was something here. Something that didn't want to be seen.
He turned toward the east wing. The cursed energy coming from that direction was thick and alive — like blood that had never cooled.
Without a word, he stepped into the dark.
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The hallway ahead twisted unnaturally — walls bowing inward, groaning with pressure that felt almost alive. Every step Souten took made the floor creak beneath him, like it resented his presence. The cursed energy here wasn't just heavy — it was suffocating, thick enough to choke on.
He turned the corner and stopped.
There, standing half-shrouded in the flickering shadows, was the source. A cursed spirit — tall, grotesquely thin, its skin stretched tight over an unnatural frame. Limbs too long, spine bent at an impossible angle, its presence oily and wrong. Its eyes gleamed with an unsettling awareness.
Souten's expression didn't shift, but his mind sharpened. The energy it gave off was immense — easily Special Grade. The cursed womb must've hatched. It made sense. Everything about this creature radiated deliberate malice.
The spirit tilted its head with a sound like bones grinding, then gave a low, bubbling hiss that broke into something disturbingly close to laughter.
Then it charged.
Souten didn't flinch. He didn't even raise a guard at first. Instead, he observed. The way it shifted its weight. The cadence of its strides. The twitch in its shoulder before it struck.
The first clawed swipe came in fast — Souten leaned back, letting it pass an inch from his throat. The second strike was wide and heavy, meant to crush. He slid under it, twisting with precision, and slammed his palm into the curse's ribs. The impact echoed like steel hitting concrete.
The spirit hissed and stumbled, but caught itself fast. It was intelligent. It was testing him.
Blow for blow, the fight escalated. Souten countered every strike with clean precision, but never fully committed. He held back. Enough to avoid bringing the building down. Enough to let the others complete their objective.
But still…
Something didn't sit right.
It's stalling.
The thought slid in again, more persistent this time.
It lunged at him again, more reckless now — or so it wanted him to believe. He slipped past it and struck again, this time harder, sending it into the wall. Cracks spiderwebbed outward. The building groaned.
And then —
A pulse.
Souten's eyes widened.
Yuji's cursed energy had dropped.
Fast.
Too fast.
He froze for the briefest second. Not out of fear. Out of clarity.
This isn't the cursed womb.
This was a decoy. A trap.
And he'd fallen for it.
"You wasted my time," Souten muttered, low and cold.
He moved.
One step — and he was gone.
The cursed spirit never even registered the shift. One blow shattered its jaw. A second crumpled its ribcage inward. The final strike — a rising elbow under the chin — snapped its neck with a sound like wet stone cracking.
It slumped to the ground, twitching. Unrecognizable.
Souten didn't linger. He was already moving.
The hall blurred past him. The cursed energy he now felt — the one ahead — was colder. Older. Heavier.
Something had found Yuji.
And it wasn't done yet.
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The hallway narrowed into a collapsed passage, where the smell of scorched concrete and burnt talismans lingered like old smoke. Souten's footsteps rang sharply through the space, echoing with a sense of urgency that even the walls seemed to absorb. Every breath he took tasted metallic, the air choked with spiritual residue.
He emerged into what had once been a sealed chamber, but now resembled the aftermath of a small war. The walls had caved inward slightly, warped as though heat and force had twisted them from the inside out. Bits of spiritual parchment drifted like ash through the air.
At the center lay the remains.
The cursed womb which now that he saw it turned out to be a finger bearer had been split into three parts: head, torso, and legs. But the precision of the cuts told a story of control — not chaos. The edges were clean, devoid of excess trauma or mess. It wasn't an explosion of violence.
It was a message.
Souten crouched beside the remains, eyes narrowing. He extended his cursed energy outward, casting a pulse through the space like a radar sweep. What responded wasn't the lingering imprint of the cursed spirit — but something deeper, colder. A cursed energy that coiled like a serpent.
This wasn't them, he thought. His gaze flicked up toward the open arch where debris had given way to the outer courtyard.
His stomach turned to stone.
This was Sukuna.
The cursed energy wasn't just powerful — it was ancient. Refined. Heavy in the way gravity was heavy. A curse that didn't need to scream to be feared.
He rose, moving without hesitation toward the breach.
The courtyard was still, cast in the amber glow of late afternoon. Dust hung suspended in the air like particles of time itself.
Sukuna stood there — regal in posture, calm in expression — as though he'd been waiting.
Yuji's body had been claimed completely. In his hand, Sukuna held a pulsing, crimson heart, the beat of it soft but audible in the silence. His other hand rested lazily at his side, blood trailing along the edge of his knuckles like an afterthought.
A few feet away, Megumi stood frozen — eyes wide, body tense, but not broken. Not yet.
Souten stepped fully into view, his expression unreadable, shoulders square.
Sukuna turned at the sound, lips curling into a smirk that didn't reach his eyes.
"Ah," he said smoothly, voice deep and bemused. "You're finally here."
Souten didn't respond.
He didn't need to.
His silence said enough.
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