The plan was going just as expected. The Uchiha assault had indeed drawn all the Root members' attention, allowing Sukuna to slip in using Kamui. The few guards he encountered were swiftly dealt with through his precise and silent dismantling.
His cursed energy pulsed faintly—just enough to sharpen his senses—and soon he found the room he was looking for. Honestly, the base was a maze. If not for his senses guiding him toward Kiyomi, he might never have found her here.
Kiyomi was inside, lying unconscious on a cot.
"Tch, of course she's out cold," Sukuna muttered in annoyance, crouching beside her. He thought for a moment, then gave her a gentle shake. No response. He sighed, then lightly flicked her forehead. Still nothing. Finally, with an exaggerated groan, he unrolled a scroll.
The scroll clearly read "Wide Range Emergency Armament."
From it came a briefcase. After rummaging through its contents for a few seconds, he finally found what he was looking for.
Turning his nose away, he used two fingers to pull out an old sock, labeled "Kizashi's unwashed, one year old…"
Just what I wanted. He honestly never thought it would come in handy, but when he was creating an emergency briefcase out of boredom, he thought, Why not?
Since that day, Kizashi Haruno had been missing one of his socks.
Kiyomi's little face twisted under the hazardous gases unleashed on her by Sukuna. Her nose twitched, oxygen becoming a scarce resource for her.
She lasted only a few seconds before her body couldn't take the abhorrent smell anymore, and she shot up with a startled gasp.
She gasped for fresh air—a sacred resource in Root—as her body convulsed, chest rising and falling rapidly.
Eyes wide and frantic, she looked around quickly. "Sasuke—! Where's Sasuke?!"
Sukuna blinked under his mask. "This reminds you of your brother? gotta tell Sakura, perhaps that will wake her up," he mused.
Her gaze darted across the room, taking in the strange walls, dim light, and unfamiliar surroundings. Her body tensed, every muscle on edge. Then her eyes locked on Sukuna. The mask, the height, the outfit—she didn't recognize him at first. But when she felt the faint, distinct pulse of cursed energy, her expression shifted.
"…Sukuna?" she asked, her voice low but sharp.
"NO... Ding nin nin, nin nin... I'm Ninja Hattori," Sukuna said, giving a mock thumbs-up.
She narrowed her eyes. "Was this your doing?"
"Tsk…"
Sukuna tilted his head. "Why would I drag you all the way down here just to… what? Stare at your non-develop assets? No thanks."
Kiyomi's eye twitched, but she hesitated. The logic sank in. She wanted to suspect him, but it didn't make sense. If Sukuna wanted to harm her, there were far quicker and easier ways.
"Look," he said, his voice losing its playful tone, "we don't have time for the long story. The Uchiha are tearing up the place outside, and we need to move before the old mummy who runs this place decides to use you as bait."
She frowned. "Old mummy?"
"You'll see," Sukuna said dryly. "Not a pretty sight though."
He quickly gave her the short version—there had been an attack, Sasuke was safe, but she had been taken. A trap for Izumi. He left out his own role in the larger conflict between the Uchiha and the village.
When he was done, he extended his hand. "Now, let's get going. I'd rather find the enemy before they find us."
Kiyomi stared at him, then at his hand. She pondered his words and ultimately concluded he wasn't hostile toward her. If he were, there were hardly any who could stop him anyway.
Of course, she didn't have much idea about the power scaling in this world. She hadn't seen enough to form an informed estimate. And this was Sukuna she was evaluating.
She didn't know how much power he retained from the original Ryomen Sukuna—besides his name and looks, which reminded her of that idiot Itadori Yuji.
Still, she didn't fancy finding out anytime soon. For the time being, she could only trust him and take comfort in the assurance that Sasuke was safe.
"Fine. But I'm not leaving. I have to help Izumi and the others," she said firmly. There was no way she would abandon them.
"Who said we were leaving?" Sukuna grinned.
"We're going to the heart of the battle, miss. I would have already if I hadn't voluntarily surrendered myself to rescue you."
"Then why? Why did you come?" Kiyomi was baffled. His presence here was the biggest question of all.
"Why indeed. I wonder myself now. At least I hope I get something good out of it." Sukuna grinned as he stared at Kiyomi.
And there it was again—that predatory gaze she had felt back in the classroom. He looked at her like a small animal, something to toy with for his amusement.
"Come on then. If I miss my chance to have a go at Mr. Mummy, then you'll be responsible for it." Sukuna extended his hand again, and this time she took it, deciding to go along with the flow for now.
But the moment their hands connected, she felt a strong pull, lifting her roughly off the ground and into his arms. His strong arms wrapped tightly around her waist.
Her breath quickened, nearly knocked out of her lungs from the sudden jolt.
"As you can see, there's a reason I'm hiding this handsome face of mine. Out there, none know my identity. I hope it stays that way, yes…" His voice was magnetic. But his grip was so tight she couldn't even move an inch.
She gulped, his enormous cursed energy warping around her, submerging her in darkness. And to her surprise, she didn't feel suffocation or malice. Only darkness and… warmth?
His cursed energy was dark, sharp… and warm? That didn't make sense at all.
"So, can we keep this a secret…" he whispered near her ear. Her mind went hazy under the flood of sensations—the overwhelming cursed energy, his tight hold.
She gulped but didn't resist. Even though the cursed energy felt sharp and dangerous, it was warm—comforting, after the cold hard floor she had been lying on.
"O..Okay. I..I'll won't say to anyone," she stuttered.
"Really… So nice of you. I knew you're a good person. You wouldn't even mind giving me a vow about it, would you?"
"That…!"
"Is there any problem? I promise I don't mean any harm—just a proof of your word. Otherwise, I completely believe our class Ice Princess…"
Kiyomi grit her teeth. Vows were not casual words—damn it. But what choice did she have?
She ultimately agreed.
"Cool, then let's go. We're getting late." He let go as soon as she agreed to the vow, then, like a boyfriend newly in love, grabbed her hand and led her out of the dark room with gusto.
Her mind was a complete mess after this short exchange.
Just as they stepped out the door, Sukuna sensed movement outside. His eyes behind the mask narrowed, Sharingan glowing redder as cursed energy poured into them.
"Well, they found her first after all," he sighed. Kiyomi's own Sharingan came alive, though she wasn't in any condition to fight.
A few moments of waiting revealed their opponents. Root shinobi—three of them, masked. Sukuna, however, focused only on the one not fully masked.
His mouth was exposed, and his mask had glasses attached.
Torune Aburame. Sukuna knew this shinobi.
Seeing their target awake with another shinobi beside her, Torune and his men tensed immediately.
"Get her." That was all he said, and both Root shinobi rushed toward Kiyomi and Sukuna at top speed.
Sukuna's Sharingan tracked their movements in acute detail. He raised his hand in a gun motion toward them. A second later, a slicing noise echoed in the narrow hallway.
Blood splattered, painting the walls of the Root base red. Both shinobi were cleaved in half before they could cover half the distance.
Torune's face twisted behind his mask. He hadn't seen what happened—hadn't felt or sensed a thing. His face went pale. So did Kiyomi's.
There it was—the Sukuna she had heard of, the one she had glimpsed in Shibuya. A dreadful pit formed in her stomach at the nauseating sight.
She wasn't unaccustomed to blood. She had seen her share in her last life and this one. But this—this was different.
With just a flick of this man's hand, humans were slaughtered like pigs. This was the gap between ordinary people and monsters like Ryomen Sukuna and Gojo Satoru.
Torune's body moved on its own, a purple coating enveloping him as a swarm of purple mist rose from his body.
It wasn't mist. Both Sukuna and Kiyomi's Sharingan saw the truth—tiny insects.
"An Aburame," Kiyomi muttered, still not grasping how dangerous they were.
"Indeed. But not just any Aburame…" Sukuna pursed his lips in irritation. Dismantle and Cleave weren't ideal against this kind of attack.
"Step back," Sukuna motioned, then brought his hands together into a joint hand sign—to Kiyomi's horror.
"Wait a minute…" Her heart raced, cold sweat running down her back as she predicted what this madman was about to do. Her entire body tingled under the surge of cursed energy erupting from Sukuna.
xxx
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