Chapter Text
Megumi moves as if on autopilot, his body barely registering on summoning a shikigami to help him carry an unconscious Itadori out of the building. He meets a fuming Kugisaki halfway out, her temper tapering when she sees his and Itadori’s bloodsoaked uniforms.
He doesn't bother with the escaped convicts when he passes by them; not even pacifying Tadashi’s mother from thanking his group, or scoffing at the survivors’ empty promises to be better after thinking they experienced divine punishment.
Overall, the aftermath of the mission is a numb blur to Megumi.
Nearly dying will do that to you, he will later think in the privacy of his dorm room.
Later, he will lie on his bed and stare at the dark ceiling in silence. Later, he will recall and assess and feel the emotional weight and implications of it all, and later, he will reel and writhe and shake from the fact that—
I almost died.
A thought follows, consoling in its repetitive echoes from many times before, I’ll get over it like I always do.
But that is later.
For now, he suppresses; he places the facts first. He processes everything in the lenses of logic, his mind automatically bringing up statistics and categorizing the sequence of events.
Megumi’s well-aware of a sorcerer’s average lifespan, of his profession’s mortality rate, of the fact that he’ll die young if he were to remain on this path. He knows it; he expects it. This is not even his first near-death experience. But it's one thing to know he’ll die, it's another to not know how. Megumi thought he knew.
Once upon a time, years ago, he would review the Zen’in’s archived journals Gojo brought him about the Ten Shadows technique. Megumi would particularly eye Mahoraga’s scant description, and think,
If I were to die in this life, it would be on my terms.
It's a twistedly comforting thought, back when he realized that he has no real control over his life; back when he was still full of vitriol and spite for his age that was still a single digit.
Because if Megumi can't choose how to live, at least he’d get to choose how to die.
But then, that choice was almost taken away from him too, and it was ironically on the one time he lost access to the very thing that got him into this damned life; his cursed technique— his burden and failsafe.
Not to mention Itadori would have paid with his life too.
If it weren't for that strange boy…
“There’s nothing off with either Itadori or Fushiguro; both are as right as rain.” Shoko removes the stethoscope from Itadori’s chest, concluding the entire check-up to her audience within the school clinic. Megumi thinks this spontaneous debriefing could have waited and given them time to change from their bloody clothes first. “Not even a scratch.”
Then, Shoko addresses Megumi, asking for confirmation, “You said it wasn’t Reverse Cursed Energy?”
“No,” Megumi dutifully answers. “He said it was his technique. He didn’t specify what it was.”
“What a versatile technique,” Gojo hums aloud, intrigued, leaning back on his stool as if it were a sofa, the wall behind him being the only thing keeping him upright. “Healing, shapeshifting, imploding a curse— What can’t he do?”
Next to Gojo, Yaga sits stiffly, his arms crossed as he looks at Megumi. “With your given profile description, it's the same curse that stole the Death Painting Wombs.”
Right, Megumi thinks, perplexed, because, well… Isn't that such news when he remembers inviting the boy to the very place he stole from? Everything new Megumi learns about this stranger is throwing him off; from his heavy cursed energy and his light demeanor, to his severe crimes and his lack of hostility.
However, if there's one thing Megumi can say, it’s—
He was breathing. He felt warm. He’s—
“Not a curse. Just Cursed,” Megumi corrects. At Yaga’s inquiring glance, he expounds, “He may have oppressive cursed energy, but it’s comparable to Okkotsu-senpai’s— suffocating but not malicious.”
“Who the hell is that?” Kugisaki asks, her tone uninterested, but her curious look says otherwise.
“He’s a second year student currently living abroad,” Megumi briefly wonders when his senior would return.
“Heh, what are the odds that it's another case like Yuta’s?” Gojo muses, and despite his signature blindfold covering the upper half of his face, Megumi can practically see the mischievous curiosity in his teacher’s eyes.
“I heard him joke that his mother used to call him a curse,” Megumi offers a potential theory, and Kugisaki holds back a snort, while Itadori frowns.
“Mou, it’s not funny, Kugisaki,” Itadori lightly scolds.
It kinda is, Megumi thinks shamefully.
“It kinda is,” Kugisaki says shamelessly.
“Then why pose as a curse when I accused him?” Yaga cuts in before an argument could escalate, to which Ijichi interjects his thoughts into the conversation.
“I-I believe when presented the chance to be mistaken as a curse, he took it,” Ijichi timidly surmises. “After all, if he were categorized as one, we wouldn't try looking for identification.”
“I… suppose it would be a stretch for a curse to be that sentient anyways,” Yaga reluctantly agrees, but then Megumi sees the principal’s stoic expression minutely pinch at a thought, before smoothing it out again.
Megumi briefly wonders what Yaga thought about.
Or remembered.
“Oh-hoh~ It's not like you to make such an amateur mistake like that, principal,” Gojo teases, nudging the stern man.
“He has a very… contradictory presence,” Yaga grumbles, an eyebrow twitching.
“So he's, what? A Cursed curse-user?” Kugisaki leans forward, her head supported by a hand that’s propped on her crossed legs.
Itadori raises his hand. “What does Cursed mean in this context?”
“Typically, Cursed humans are non-sorcerers—” At this, Ijichi expounds the meaning behind the terminology like a dutiful assistant manager, all the while Megumi tunes out the overly-familiar textbook explanation. Instead, he thinks of the boy with two-colored eyes and stitches on his face, who remains unnamed.
He resolves to call the boy ‘Patches’.
( Laaame~, Megumi can almost hear Gojo’s unsolicited opinion over his nicknaming skills.)
Megumi scolds himself for not asking for Patches’ name, choosing instead to impulsively ask him to join Megumi’s school. He reasons to himself that the decision was made in a haste to save Patches.
On the chance he’s like Okkotsu, Megumi wants to help him lift his curse; just before the higher-ups could hear of him and order his execution because Megumi knows how the council will view Patches and his mysterious technique. Too unpredictable, too untraditional. Too dangerous if he's not on their side.
Yes, bringing him to Jujutsu High would alert them earlier, but at least he would be under Gojo’s protection. This is the best repayment Megumi can think of.
It’s multiple times better than being affiliated with a supposed curse-user.
Sasaki Ayame, Megumi remembers the woman. Ijichi did a background research and found that she was a semi-grade two curse-user who deals in human trafficking and occasional commissioned hits. The last time her name has been mentioned in an official report, it was when she was suspected to be the culprit that a bunch of escaped human trafficking victims described to the Shizuoka police station. It doesn't help that those same victims also claimed that they were rescued by a boy with patchwork skin.
There's context missing there, Megumi speculates. The curse-user can't be the same person who also saved the detention center prisoners from a special grade cursed spirit. Especially with him knowing that Patches works with her.
Maybe the victims described the wrong suspect. Maybe Ijichi’s research was wrong; outdated.
After all, Sasaki Ayame didn't move like a semi-grade two sorcerer as the reports said.
Megumi doesn't even know where to begin in fitting Patches in all of this.
He agrees with Yaga’s opinion of Patches being contradictory— stolen the Death Paintings, yet voluntarily surrendered Sukuna’s finger which is arguably more powerful. He could have easily killed Yaga with his technique, yet he didn't even engage in a fight. He could have left him and Itadori, yet he chose to help and even went beyond to heal them.
When asked why he did the latter, he said that Itadori is his brother by association(?) because of… a pseudo-immortal relative…? It could be a humorous exaggeration for all Megumi knows, and of course, there's a chance that Patches could be lying. However, it brings Megumi back to his earlier questions, mainly:
What did he want to gain?
Patches is ironically a puzzle, rightfully represented by his patchwork skin, which makes Megumi question if it's naturally like that or worse… And—
A boyish laugh echoes in Megumi’s memory, your soul is wonderful!
What did he mean by that?
“Man, so what kinda curse could the person have for him to still be alive if all Cursed people usually end up dead?” Itadori asks, alerting Megumi back into the discussion.
“Well, the curse can vary. The curser doesn’t always want their victim dead,” Ijichi says as a matter of fact. However, his confidence turns into bewilderment when he continues, “Though, results other than death are unheard of, as curses evolve into lethal grades if left unattended for too long. The curser’s target tends to be the first victim.”
“Oh… Well, what if he really was a cursed spirit?” Itadori tilts his head.
Megumi resists placing a hand on any part of his face; partly because he should cut Itadori some slack, and partly because he doesn’t want the dried blood on his face to flake and make a mess.
“Don't be stupid,” Kugisaki chides Itadori for the both of them.
“I mean, cursed spirits come from humans’ emotions, right?” Itadori disregards Kugisaki’s admonishment, then proceeds to be stupid. “Maybe some humanity carries over and they become somewhat good cursed spirits. Y’know, think morally gray anti-villain tropes!”
Yaga accusingly glares at Gojo, “Are you actually teaching your students?”
Gojo sheepishly laughs, his hand scratching the back of his head, “Ehehe, of course I am! This is just my cute student being adorable!”
Eugh , Megumi sneers distastefully. Gojo shouldn't patronize any of us like that.
“But uh, for a short review of what I totally discussed before; Sorcery 101, the basics of basics,” Gojo addresses Itadori, his relaxed form leaning forward as he lets a grin form— a little carefree, a little bloodthirsty. The strongest sorcerer says it easily, cheerily, naturally; like how the grass is green, the sky is blue and, “The only good curse is a dead curse.”
And Megumi acknowledges all of them as equally true.
Mahito thinks that Tokyo’s sewer system isn't really the most ideal place for a newborn to use their senses for the first time. On the other hand, he thinks that him being the first thing that the Death Paintings would see can make up for it.
Besides, it’s not safe to do their body transfigurations on the topside, on the off-chance that a stray sorcerer could catch them— worse, a canon sorcerer. Ugh, he has tested enough of his luck on Yaga and Fushiguro today; he doesn’t want to take a risk of encountering Gojo.
It would be on sight, Mahito internally shudders. Unironically, with the Six Eyes involved.
Scowling at the thought of Jujutsu High staff being on high alert due to his ‘devious lick’, he decides that it would just have to be his future-self’s problem.
For now…
Mahito dramatically points onwards and exclaims, “Go, my rat army! Send those sorcerers in a wild goose chase!”
His innumerable curses-turned-rats climb out of the sewer ladder in droves, spreading out to the surface and leaving their residuals on where their tiny paws touch. Eventually, the critters will cover the majority of Tokyo with it in an hour or so. Mahito's not entirely worried; ordinary people should not be able to see them. He even instructed them to eliminate any low-grade curses they encounter!
While non-sorcerers would feel slightly gloomy if a rat were to linger in their space, Mahito’s transfigured curses are essentially harmless.
He knows there's no hiding his residue from the Six Eyes. The best he can do is at least cover his tracks with others’ cursed energy with hints of his own.
Just like Toji’s strategy, Mahito recalls. You can't blind the Six Eyes in the dark, but you can render it useless in the light; overwhelm it. Overstimulate. Confuse the user.
If Mahito can't hide his cursed energy, he’ll just have to spread it everywhere. Make the world too bright for the Six Eyes to process and understand; turn Mahito’s cursed energy into white noise.
It's just stalling the inevitable, Mahito knows. But it should give him enough time to build a positive rep with the Jujutsu sorcerers before they could find him. Mahito will have better control of the situation with the sorcerers if he were to present himself to them first.
But that's not today.
Today, Mahito walks back deep into the sewers and observes his lined-up transfigured humans— his remaining three, now that Sasaki Ayame’s body and soul are damaged beyond repair. Despite being former criminals, these humans were transfigured slowly, less painful than the default as he learned from his experiments. He kept them (somewhat) alive to have access to their souls, just in case. Back then, he didn’t exactly know what for.
But when his gaze falls onto the Death Paintings' canisters nearby, he thanks his past-self for the foresight.
Mahito has yet to find other human vessels for the remaining Death Paintings. It wouldn't be safe to incarnate them now anyway, he reasons; not with his current living arrangements. He knows they won’t end up as special grades like the eldest three siblings. Their souls tell him so.
For now, the first three Death Paintings will have to do. That should be Choso, Eso and Kechizu, right?
Plus, with his Self-Binding Vow, he now has the ability to selectively choose which soul to touch when dealing with a vessel. Yeah, he can’t duplicate his soul anymore, but he thinks it’s not that useful anyway when his clone can’t use his technique. The pros outweigh the cons, and now nobody else is a more qualified person in this world when it comes to dealing with soul-body complications other than himself.
Yeah, okay, Mahito's got this.