Chapter Two — Without a Body
Ten days.
Wishz learned how long it had been by counting cycles—lights dimming, lights returning, voices changing with exhaustion. He had no eyes, no lungs, no skin, yet time pressed on him anyway.
He was still submerged.
The liquid surrounding him was dense with cursed energy, faintly warm, carrying vibrations like a heartbeat that didn't belong to him. Glass enclosed everything. Seals layered over seals. He couldn't move. Couldn't scream.
If I'm just a finger, he thought bitterly, then why can I still think?
Ten days trapped inside a fragment of Ryomen Sukuna.
That much, at least, he had figured out.
The markings etched into the container were unmistakable. Ancient. Defensive. Built not to preserve—but to contain. The cursed energy coiled around him violently, like something older and crueler than any curse he'd sensed in life.
But Sukuna himself was absent.
Wishz could feel it.
No presence. No consciousness pressing against his own.
Where are you? he wondered. And why am I here instead?
The question gnawed at him. If a human like Yuji Itadori were to eat the finger one day—what would happen?
Would Sukuna awaken?
Would Wishz be erased?
Would they meet?
The thoughts spiraled endlessly, feeding into one another until frustration hardened into rage.
I hate this, he thought. Thinking without acting. Existing without power.
Then the lab would distract him.
Scientists came and went, always masked, always cautious. Over ten days, Wishz watched them work—not with eyes, but with awareness sharpened by cursed energy.
They weren't studying him.
They were studying curses.
Bound curses. Half-formed ones. Misshapen creatures suspended in tanks or chained to reinforced platforms. Some howled endlessly. Others stared blankly, intelligence flickering and dying.
One caught his attention.
A dog-shaped curse—black and warped, its body uneven, as if molded incorrectly. Its form shifted constantly, limbs stretching and snapping back into place.
The scientists circled it, murmuring.
"Cursed energy output is stable."
"Physical resistance acceptable."
"Prepare ingestion trial."
Wishz felt movement.
His container was lifted.
For the first time, fear prickled through him.
The seals loosened.
Liquid drained away.
Cold air touched the finger—his finger—and cursed energy surged in response.
The curse roared sensing the finger.
Wait.
The curse snarled as the finger was lowered toward its mouth.
If it eats me…
A thousand thoughts collided.
Will Sukuna take over?
Can I take over?
What happens to me?
The curse swallowed.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then markings flashed across the curse's body—jagged symbols burning black before twisting violently. The curse screamed, its form swelling unnaturally, cursed energy spiking beyond control.
Then—
It burst.
Not violently, not messily. Its body simply couldn't hold itself together anymore. It collapsed inward, disintegrating into ash and cursed residue that evaporated into nothing.
Silence.
The finger fell to the floor, unchanged.
One of the scientists exhaled heavily.
"Another failure."
"Tch. Again."
They retrieved the finger, sealing it back into its container.
Wishz felt himself submerged once more.
Idiots, he thought darkly. If Sukuna awakened, you'd be dead already.
A laugh echoed in his mind—silent, cruel.
And if it were me… I'd kill you too.
As the container was secured, voices drifted closer.
"If we don't succeed soon," one muttered,
"Lord Baso will kill us."
"He won't wait forever. His son's condition—isn't improving. Feeding this thing to a human could kill him."
"We've already gone too far."
Wishz's awareness sharpened.
A son?
"Report to Lord Baso," another said. "We move to human experimentation next."
Footsteps faded.
Wishz was left alone with one thought looping endlessly:
They're planning to feed me to a human.
But… not Yuji. Wait is it yuji?
Elsewhere — Beneath Bowed Heads
A vast chamber lit by low-burning cursed lamps.
Men knelt in rows, foreheads pressed to cold stone.
At the far end stood Lord Baso—tall, broad-shouldered, his presence crushing even without cursed energy flaring. His eyes were sharp, calculating, hollowed by obsession.
A scientist spoke, voice trembling.
"Lord Baso. The DNA infusion trials are progressing. Compatibility ratios are improving. We are only missing genetic material from the Gojo clan."
Baso's lips curled faintly.
"Good."
He turned toward a sealed chamber behind him.
"Go," he ordered. "Ambush member of gojo clan. Take the body. Prepare it."
His fists clenched.
"My son must be stronger than anything. Strong enough to awaken a legend."
He stepped closer to the sealed door, resting a hand against it.
"Soon," he murmured. "You will wake up."
Inside, a child lay suspended—body preserved unnaturally around the age of 15. Machines pumped nutrients and cursed stimulants into him. His heart beat steadily.
He had never opened his eyes.
"Since birth," Baso whispered, "you've never woken… but your heart never stopped."
His voice trembled.
"I will wake you. No matter the cost."
He turned away, expression hardening.
"I only hope," he added quietly, "that that man didn't lie."
Far away, sealed in glass and liquid—
Wishz felt something shift.
And for the first time since his death, uncertainty crept into his thoughts.
If this isn't Yuji.
So who… am I meant for?