Right from his birth, from the moment when he pulled himself from the fetid womb of his creation, Mahito had known that he was special.
He was not a simple cog in the wheel like most cursed spirits, and the form he had taken after his birth had made that further clear. He was different. A true person. A genuine human. That was the essence of his being. He was a cursed spirit, one that was born from accumulated human fear, jealousy, and hatred. Emotions so intrinsic to what it meant to be human. The difference was blurred.
He signified the pinnacle of Jogo's and the rest of the disaster curses' belief that cursed spirits were the true humans. Jogo had cried tears of volcanic black the moment he had set his single massive eye upon him.
Then he had been named, a name that was not a mistake. Mahito was the first of a new breed of cursed spirits, a special breed, and he had enjoyed the privilege such entailed. He was born a special grade, with a cursed technique that was far beyond most others. He had a growth curve that Jogo and Kenjaku had mused about. It was too fast, just like a human, Kenjaku had wondered aloud, with an odd look in his eyes, and a smile that Mahito had learnt to copy early.
That power, that skill had translated into strength quickly. The human-like genius quality, resilience, and adaptability under pressure had ensured he learned domain expansion so quickly, an act that immediately put him above most cursed spirits once more, highlighting a belief he had held from the moment he was born.
He was special.
That was a lie. Staring at the white shikigami with a strange soul, fighting against Sukuna was a clarity-defining moment, and a psyche-shattering juncture. It was a long time coming. His driving force was his impulsive human malice. He had no true long-term goals. He simply pursued whatever gave him satisfaction and amusement. He was special enough to take such pleasures as they came.
Till he met someone that was the epitome of self-interest and satisfaction. Ryomen Sukuna. He had touched on the sorcerer's soul and had understood him more than any other person did. They were kindred flames, more alike than even Sukuna realized, and yet where he had previously found camaraderie in the reincarnated sorcerer as Itadori Yuji cracked under the weight of their shared malice all too quickly, he found out that the reincarnated sorcerer did not care for him. For their shared essence.
A wave of a hand had sent out a Dismantle that cut deep enough to touch his soul when Itadori entered his domain. He had retreated, had suppressed the confusion and explained it away under the heat of combat, and the fact that the ancient sorcerer had previously warned him against touching his soul, and yet it happened again. Without any warning, without any care for his existence. He had been treated like a fly, and cut in half beneath Shibuya's subways, and had been left scurrying like a rat.
The one person that could relate to one of his driving factors had deemed him irrelevant.
Then there was the shikigami with a twisted soul.
The force wave of one of the clashes sent cars and an electric pole flying, and a few seconds later, the hulking shikigami was thrown through a building, one that housed a dozen screaming humans. Mahito watched as the shikigami put in the effort to twist and turn in obscene ways that ensured he didn't crash into the humans, while waving the forearm blade in a dance that sliced apart the chunks of rocks that had followed it into the building.
The sum of the movements had been quick, taking only a second, and then he was out once more, leaving the surprised and shell-shocked humans safe and completely unharmed, as it went crashing against Sukuna once more, and their fight relocated them to another district.
Mahito stood there, and once more it burned. He knew the shikigami had seen him. Its wings had flickered in the slightest, its head had tilted, and yet, just like Sukuna, it had decided he was irrelevant. Just like Sukuna, the shikigami's existence spoke to him in a different sort of way. He had not had the chance to touch the shikigami to have a proper feel for its soul, but Mahito's technique ensured that sight was enough to let him know the shikigami was different.
He could not fully understand, not without touching the shikigami at least, but from what he could feel and sense, the shikigami had touched upon a concept that had been hidden from him for so long, that being the deepest truths and secrets of the soul. The shikigami had grasped the true essence of the soul. A soul more human than any other. An aware soul in a body that enhanced that awareness. It was a form and understanding that Mahito could only vaguely grasp. For all his repeated rapid growth and evolutions, he only had a vague vision of it, a vague vision that the shikigami had grasped in full, and yet...
Once more, he had been deemed irrelevant. In the face of the two giants, with such intricate depths to them, he was ignored. His obsession with Itadori Yuji suddenly seemed so quaint all of a sudden. His impulsive desire to break and destroy the soul of the boy he had figured as his natural enemy suddenly didn't seem much fun again. Even the thought of rushing to where the sheltered and confused humans were hiding and transfiguring them suddenly felt like a chore.
Mahito turned away from the city-shaking fights and began to walk down the broken road listlessly. Dull eyes wandered, looking without truly seeing as he was hit with realization upon realization. His body twitched, and without his input, his curse energy surged like a wave, then ebbed into a tide, fluctuating without his control, order, or command. Mahito was not aware of this. He was not aware of the evolution he was going through, because for the first time, it was not evolution brought about by the human desire to survive when faced with certain death. It was an evolution brought about by the sudden doubt of a being's place in the world.
He walked past a transfigured human that cooed at him like a chick to a mother bird, and he didn't spare it a thought. Instead, his focus was turned inward. Had he always been this small and insignificant? Were they all? The rest of the disaster curses were dead. Hanami by Gojo Satoru's hands. Dagon by the strange man with a soul and body unity that Mahito had slinked away from, and finally Jogo to Sukuna's flames.
Was this all the sum of their efforts? All of them dead, and him alone and insignificant?
He stopped. Was this what it meant to be a true human, this startling feeling of uselessness? Needing people to validate your existence? His head tilted to the side, as the shattered glass that was his psyche, that was the essence of his being, began to come together and merge into a different form, into some sort of coherence.
The rest of the disaster curses were gone, dead, and in the end, what had they achieved? What great works had the supposed true humanity left behind as they died? His eyes went searching. A destroyed city that would be rebuilt in days, that was all. While the people they looked upon as fake humanity, even with their short lifespans, would leave behind towering edifices that would outlast them for centuries to come.
The solidified essence of his being began to take another form. He was still who he was; that could never be changed. A curse born of human hatred and suffering was a leopard that could never change its spots, yet that does not mean some aspect of it could not change. Mahito had gone through his life so far with no true goals, with no true desires other than the impulsive need to hurt others and cause despair, but now he had been forced to grow. He looked down on his hands, at their newfound solidity, and his spiking cursed energy, and he nodded to himself.
He was not going to be rendered completely irrelevant with a simple death like the rest of the disaster curses. He came to the conclusion. He was going to be different. He was going to take part in something, leave a mark on this world that centuries from today, this world would never forget.
A clap rang out from behind him. A continuous ringing applause that forced him to turn his attention away from his hands and towards the man that had sneaked up behind him. Long black hair tied in a bun that still spilled across his back like a waterfall. Thin eyes that were built to smile. A scar across the scalp, and a dress that would've made anyone mistake the figure for a monk.
"Kenjaku," Mahito called out, taking only a second to note his voice was different.
"Wonderful, truly wonderful," Kenjaku said in response, as he stopped meters away from him, far enough that Mahito would have to put in effort to make physical contact.
"Where have you been, Kenjaku?"
The strange sorcerer tilted his head to the side before replying. "Over here and there. But that's irrelevant. What is, is you, Mahito." The sorcerer's eyes opened slightly, revealing cold, uncaring black orbs. "You're finally well-cooked. I had thought that would occur as a result of your rivalry with my child, but it seems like I truly underestimated you. Even without pressure, you still became a diamond."
Mahito nodded in understanding. He always knew Kenjaku had other plans, vaguer plans than the simple sealing of Gojo Satoru. He had never really spoken about it with them, but they had all known, yet in the end, it had not mattered, till now that is, now when it was clear that he had some role to play in this greater plan.
Mahito smiled. "You want to eat me."
Kenjaku replied without much thought to lie or guile. It was a simple nod. "That was the original plan," he admitted shamelessly with a lazy shrug of his shoulders. "I've waited centuries for a technique much like yours, and your birth was the best thing to happen in a century."
"The original plan?"
"Yes, let's just say that your growth has changed my mind. You've changed, Mahito. You're like a well-done steak, cooked over firewood instead of in the kitchen. It brings a different flavour to things, you see. Now I'm being pushed by my greatest sin: curiosity, which has left me wondering, what divergent path would you take, Mahito?"
Mahito did not understand, not completely. He had some idea of the ancient sorcerer's rambling. Kenjaku had been preparing him, using Itadori Yuji to fuel his growth, a growth that ensured his cursed technique grew stronger and evolved, with the end goal of eating him up and having access to his technique, yet that had changed because for some reason he had grown on his own. Yet, something about everything rang false in his ears.
He tilted his head to match the body-hopping sorcerer. "Is that truly all there is to it, Kenjaku?"
Kenjaku froze, then giggled like a child before nodding. "Fine. It seems some maturity came along with this new growth. I'm changing plans because things have changed," Kenjaku started. "I had not planned for the shikigami the Zenin brat summoned. I knew about him, of course, yet I had not anticipated just how interesting he would be, interesting enough to stalemate Sukuna for so long and win, underhanded and with the aid of others, like it was, against a weaker Sukuna who grew distracted at the critical moment. Yet win it has, and that changes things."
"Is that truly it, or are you scared?" Mahito questioned as he took a single step forward, closing the distance between him and the body-hopping sorcerer. "Are you scared that if you fight me squarely, you'll lose, Kenjaku?"
Kenjaku froze for the second time, and this time when he opened his eyes, they opened in full, and he stared down at Mahito once more, but there was something different in his gaze. He was looking at him the same way Mahoraga and Sukuna had looked at him. Insignificant. The air went tense as the mood changed.
"Don't let your rapid growth get over your head, Mahito. I have not lived through multiple centuries refining cursed energy and the techniques in my arsenal to lose to a curse that is barely a few months old. Your technique is useless against someone that is aware of the outline of their soul and knows to guard and reinforce it. My domain is more refined than you could ever hope to comprehend. In a clash, I would end you faster than you can imagine. Do not make the mistake of thinking we are equals in any way. I can crush you and take your technique like taking candy from a baby."
The tension disappeared a second later as Kenjaku changed. His tight posture relaxed, his wide eyes closed, and once more he had a jovial smile on his face as he continued speaking, "Or we can just work together and see what this new world I want to bring about has in store. What do you think, Mahito?"
Mahito let out a breath he did not know he had been holding. Then he nodded his head warily in understanding. "What now?"
Kenjaku's smile widened. "Now, I need to make use of your Idle Transfiguration. With my output and certain restrictions, such as targeting certain people as opposed to everyone, I can make a nationwide Idle Transfiguration, but I need to do that without absorbing you, which makes it tricky. But like all things, sorcery makes a way."
"A binding vow," Mahito said in realization, and Kenjaku nodded in agreement.
"A binding vow that gives me the scale, as well as perfect compliance without giving you the option to simply opt out. So here is my offer, Mahito. You agree to allow me to manipulate your technique through you, as well as become the backup living battery and core of the Culling Games ritual, and in return, I don't eat you. You don't get absorbed by me; instead, you willingly bind your existence to the ritual. In essence, you trade your freedom for purpose."
Mahito thought it over for long seconds. There was silence around them. It had been silent for long minutes, even before the arrival of Kenjaku, which meant the fight was over. Sukuna and Mahoraga's fight had resulted in a victor: Mahoraga. The end of the fight brought a calm to the storm that had been the city, giving Mahito the space and time to think, and he came to a conclusion.
The binding vow fit him. He had come to an understanding that at the end of the day, he was a curse, one who was born of humanity's hatred and fear. Yet he had grown, and in that growth had realized he wanted something more, something significant. This was the sum total of it. A chance to exhibit his malice by hurting sorcerers, and a way to do it by being the focal point for a sorcery that transcends any other. A sorcery that would birth and fuel the most agony, pain, and blood that Japan, and possibly the world, has seen in a few decades. A way to ensure he is never forgotten like the rest of the disaster curses. And it made sure he was always a threat. He was going to live, and his inability to hurt Kenjaku only encompassed the binding vow's duration.
Mahito grinned at Kenjaku, and even without words, the snake like sorcerer already knew the decision he had made, so he smiled in response. Mahito immediately felt it, as the binding vow, which had been taking form with Kenjaku's words, finally began to settle, and together they stretched forth their hands in a shake. Mahito's hands gripped Kenjaku for the first time, and they said it together.
Curse Technique: Idle Transfiguration.
"Let the Culling Games begin," Kenjaku said with a laugh.