Mahito sauntered through the streets with a hint of frustration in his step. His pace was casual, but the slight tension in his shoulders gave him away. He couldn't help but scowl at how Kenjaku had interrupted his training.
The timing, the expression on his face, the too-casual request.
It all left a sour taste in Mahito's mouth.
Even worse, the ancient sorcerer seemed to be onto him. Not fully, not enough to act, but perceptive enough to make Mahito second-guess every word, every action. That was what made Kenjaku dangerous.
He wasn't used to being deceived. He was used to being the deceiver.
Still, Mahito took some comfort in the fact that he had managed to keep what mattered hidden. Kenjaku hadn't seen his soul manipulation in action, hadn't gotten a taste of the full extent of his Idle Transfiguration.
That was enough. For now.
Mahito's purple eyes scanned the streets slowly.
Shibuya wasn't as loud as it would be later in the story, but it was still a busy place. Crowds moved with absentminded rhythm, their emotions a dull background hum of anxiety, stress, and irritation.
All of it fed him in small ways.
Not enough to grow, but enough to keep a smile on his face.
He turned a corner, towards a more deserted alleyway, and immediately caught sight of something unusual.
Two people, walking side by side.
One of them wore a tan overcoat over a fitted black suit. Blonde, slicked hair. Tall, broad frame. Tired posture. His cursed energy was calm, stable, like a sharpened blade sheathed in leather.
Kento Nanami.
The man looked the same as Mahito remembered. Calm. Controlled. Worn. He radiated the exact energy of someone who hated his job and still did it perfectly.
Next to him was the opposite.
Itadori Yuji.
The boy walked with a spring in his step, still too loud for a patrol, still too excited to be doing something dangerous. His cursed energy was unrefined, but vast. It felt raw, like a blade being swung before the metal had cooled.
And there it was.
Mahito stopped walking.
His eyes met Yuji's across the street for a split second.
No recognition on the boy's face. Of course not. He didn't know what Mahito looked like. Not yet.
But Mahito could feel it.
That soul.
It buzzed beneath the skin, restless, almost sentient in how it coiled and shifted. It was not just Yuji's.
Sukuna lingered inside, like a beast sleeping in the passenger seat.
'There it is. That's what Kenjaku wanted me to see.'
Mahito smiled to himself. The kind of smile that didn't reach the eyes.
He stepped into the street without hesitation.
Yuji blinked and tilted his head slightly. Nanami stopped walking.
The salaryman narrowed his eyes.
He saw it. Or rather, felt it. The cursed energy that rolled off of Mahito.
"Yuji. Step back."
Mahito's smile widened.
"Hello."
Yuji blinked again. "Uh… hey? Are you... a sorcerer or something?"
Mahito tilted his head.
"Hmm, maybe~ You could say that, yes."
Nanami's hand was already drifting to the hilt of his blade.
"Your cursed energy is unnatural. You're not human, are you?"
Mahito sighed.
"Do I look human?"
The shape of his body shimmered slightly. His hand rippled and twisted into the shape of a claw, then back into a hand, smooth and seamless.
Nanami didn't wait.
In an instant, the salaryman dashed forward.
His movement was clean. Precise. His cursed energy flared just as his blade came down toward Mahito's shoulder.
Mahito didn't block.
His body shifted. The blade passed through as his torso warped, bending unnaturally to avoid the cut. He sidestepped, then spun, his arm stretching unnaturally as it turned into a long spike.
He aimed it just beside Nanami's face, missing by less than a hair.
A warning.
Yuji yelled something. Probably an attack call.
Mahito didn't flinch as the boy closed the distance in a flash. His cursed energy exploded forward as his fist rocketed toward Mahito's midsection.
A solid punch. Not refined, but powerful.
Mahito allowed the hit to land.
His stomach compressed with the impact, the flesh folding like soft clay against Iuji's rather absurd strength.
For the first time in his second life, he could feel some pain. It was minimal, not enough to bother him, but it reminded him that he was alive at least.
He smiled, even as his body flew back a few meters, landing in a crouch.
"Nice. Good punch," he said, shaking his arm out. "You're not bad."
Yuji's eyes widened slightly. "Why did you just let me hit you!?" His strangely innocent face scrunched up in discomfort as he stepped back slightly.
Mahito stood up straight. His smile stayed. 'This version of Yuji has yet to witness how disturbing curses can be, huh? I guess I was supposed to be the one to teach him that... Not that I care.'
"I wanted to feel it in person. Your soul. It's... interesting."
Nanami moved again, fast. But this time, Mahito raised a single hand.
"Enough. I'm not here to fight. If I were, you would certainly know it~"
Nanami didn't halt, but Yuji did. He put a hand on his mentor's shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.
"Wait. Something's off."
But Mahito was not paying any attention to their increasing wariness. Instead, he was focused inwards.
Mahito could feel Sukuna stirring now. Not fully awake, but annoyed.
The Kind of Curses did not enjoy having his vessel's soul observed.
Mahito grinned.
"Relax. I'm just a curious spirit. I like people like you, Itadori Yuji."
The boy narrowed his eyes.
"How do you know my name?"
"I do my homework."
Nanami wasn't convinced. His cursed energy was flaring; it was almost time for him to clock out, which meant that he was close to powering up too. Not that it would do him any good.
Mahito kept his distance.
"If I wanted a fight, I'd have taken Nanami's arm off when he swung. If I wanted you dead, Itadori, you'd be bleeding already. But I don't."
He gestured to the boy.
"You're... fascinating. A vessel that can both absorb Sukuna's fingers and trap his soul within its own. How can I not be fascinated?"
Yuji looked more confused than anything now.
Mahito took a step back.
"I'll be seeing you again. Maybe next time, we can have a real conversation."
He waved lazily and then stepped into a shadowed alley. His body melted, folding into itself, slipping beneath the ground like water down a drain.
Yuji took a step forward.
"Should we go after him?"
Nanami shook his head.
"No. We barely have any information about his technique; it's too risky."
Yuji looked down the alleyway, then clenched his fists.
"I don't like him."
Nanami didn't respond at first.
Then, quietly. "I don't either."
Yuji exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders refusing to leave. His gaze lingered on the place where the curse had vanished, slipped like liquid into a sewage drain.
"What was that guy?"
Nanami adjusted his tie. His expression remained unreadable, but his grip on the hilt of his blade stayed just a bit too tight.
"A Special Grade," he said simply.
Yuji turned to him, confused. "You sure?"
Nanami nodded once.
"But not any known Special Grade." He glanced toward the cracked pavement, the lingering traces of cursed energy still sour in the air.
"He didn't fight like the others. He didn't kill on sight. He spoke. He seems to have an agenda, too. It's similar to the one reported earlier..."
Nanami's voice grew quieter, colder.
"We need to inform Gojo."