Chapter Text

Again, for the Last Time

Yuji hissed a string of profanities as he shoved through the dense undergrowth, his stolen robes snagging on every single low-hanging branch. He swore even louder when he stepped into a patch of mushy filth that was definitely not mud, which squelched up through his shoes (the only things he’d kept), making each step slippery and uneven.

He couldn’t believe this was the scenario he had been dropped into. One moment, he was in bed, drifting off to sleep in his dorm, and the next, he was sprawled on his back in the middle of some forest that definitely wasn’t anywhere near Tokyo. No explanation, no warning, no familiar faces—just a bitter taste in his mouth and a sinking feeling that some cosmic joke was being played on him. Again. Like everything else hadn’t been bad enough already. Since June, really, his life had basically been one long, uninterrupted spiral into the trash can.

And the fact that every single thing that had gone sideways, ever, could be traced back to one evil-ass curse was just ridiculous. 

Including this. Especially this.

Because here he was, dragging himself through a forest infested with monsters just to find the same evil-ass curse that had cursed him in the first place!!

The irony of that didn’t escape him. He wondered if it would even be worth it in the end. To find Sukuna. What if he were killed before he could even get a word in? Yuji was sure that the Sukuna he would face here would be nothing like the last one he’d seen. 

He kept moving steadily, carefully navigating around thick roots and low branches. All the while, he tracked the giant curse energy signature he’d sensed before entering the forest. Sweat mingled with grime as he wiped his brow and pushed through more heavy brush. Well, he thought, guess I’ll find out. It’s not like I’ve got much left to lose anyway.

Yuji grumbled as he tugged his pants free from a tangle of bushes. The fabric tore with a loud rip. He cursed again, frustration mounting with every snag. Why did these clothes make moving so difficult? Why couldn’t people just wear a hoodie or something? All this flowing fabric did was catch, trip, and slow him down. 

Yuji pressed forward through the forest, swiping through any curse that got too close. He struck fast, sometimes kicking or punching, other times releasing a burst of cursed energy to blast a monster back. Each fight left him gasping for breath. These curses were much stronger than what he knew as Grade 2 or 3. Every one of them felt like a Grade 1, or a Special Grade in the making.

Why was everything here so stupidly strong? Was everyone here just on steroids? Yuji’s breath came ragged. Come on, give me a break.

And what was with this guy hiding out in the middle of nowhere anyway? If you’re the “King of Curses,” maybe pick a spot with a decent road. Then again, people probably screamed and ran the second they saw his freaky face, so maybe the seclusion was for the best.

Finally, the trees thinned out. That trek had felt like four hours, though Yuji knew his internal clock was usually shit. And by the look of the sky, night was quickly approaching. 

Beyond the treeline stood a massive estate—the kind of place a rich dude would own. The gates were wide open, almost as if they were mocking. A silent dare to see if any idiot who’d tracked the King of Curses actually had the guts to walk through the door.

Yuji squared his shoulders, his heart hammering against his ribs. He didn’t want to do this. He’d rather be doing literally anything else. Even after everything... especially after everything.

But he needed to. It was his only option left. He took a deep breath and walked inside. 

He wasn’t expecting much. Maybe a bunch of corpses littered around. Or a literal mountain of bones like the one Sukuna used to sit on inside his soul.

Something loud and bloody. Something a little more sinister. Instead, the house was eerily quiet. Peaceful even. There were no people walking around, no one else that he could sense. 

Actually, no, he could sense one other person. A flicker of cursed energy that felt like a tiny ember compared to the raging bonfire that was Sukuna.

Yuji didn’t bother knocking. He didn’t care about being polite. Sukuna hadn’t asked for permission before using Yuji’s hands to murder thousands of people, so why should he give him any consideration? 

Was it petty? Yes. Did he care? Absolutely not.

He found Sukuna in the main hall, lounging by a window and gazing out at the wilderness. There was someone else there, a person with white hair who looked weirdly familiar, pouring sake into a cup with practiced skill.

“Sukuna.” Yuji’s voice cracked the heavy silence of the hall. It was steadier than he felt, considering his pulse was hammering against his ribs. The white-haired attendant snapped their head around, frost already beginning to prickle the air, but the killing blow stalled. Confusion flickered across their pale features as they looked from the intruder to the master of the house, and back again.

Sukuna didn’t even bother to turn around. “Get lost,” he said lazily, his voice echoing through the floorboards. “I’m not in the mood for pests today. Come back tomorrow if you’re that desperate to die.” 

“Sukuna-sama, this one...” The attendant trailed off, their eyes boring holes into Yuji’s face.

Yuji ignored them, fixating entirely on the back of that familiar, muscular neck. “I’m not here to fight.” He swallowed hard before pushing the words out. “I need your help. And I’m willing to give you anything—anything except my life.”

Who would have imagined he would ever come to this person with a request like that? 

The silence that followed was heavy. Then, Sukuna laughed. It was that same sound Yuji had heard a thousand times before, but here, it sounded crueller. More manic.

“Now, isn’t that something? What if my price is your life? What will you do then?” Sukuna taunted as he finally turned around.

He moved with a slow, predatory grace that made the air in the room feel twice as heavy. As his gaze landed on Yuji, the cruel smirk on his face vanished.

“What is this?” Sukuna’s voice was no longer a drawl. He stood up, looming over Yuji, his four eyes narrowing as they scanned Yuji’s hair and the scars beneath his eyes. “Interesting. I have never seen someone with such likeness to me before.” 

Yuji didn’t flinch. Well, his heart was trying to burst out of his ribs, but he kept his chin up. He’d stared at this face every night for months in the reflection of his soul; he wasn’t going to let the daylight version intimidate him now. 

“It’s complicated,” Yuji said. His voice cracked slightly, but he caught it and steadied himself. “Which is why I need help.”

Sukuna stepped closer, invading Yuji’s personal space. The sheer pressure of his cursed energy felt like being forced toward the edge of a skyscraper. He reached out, his large, clawed hand gripping Yuji’s jaw with bruising force and tilting his head from side to side like he was inspecting a piece of meat.

“How very interesting. Name,” Sukuna demanded.

“Itadori Yuji.” See? He could cooperate. 

“Itadori…” Sukuna repeated the name like it was a foul word. He let out a huff of laughter. “You smell of desperation. And your cursed energy…” He leaned in. “It reeks of me.”

“Like I said, it’s complicated,” Yuji grunted against the grip on his jaw. “And I’m not telling you anything else unless you agree to help.”

Sukuna shoved Yuji back slightly hard enough to make Yuji stumble. The boredom that had shrouded the King of Curses was gone, replaced by curiosity. 

“Tch.” Sukuna clicked his tongue, keeping all four eyes locked on his target. “What makes you think I care enough to play your games?” 

“You’re curious, aren’t you?” Yuji countered, crossing his arms to hide the fact that his hands were shaking. 

“Hmm. You offered anything.” Sukuna said, his smirk returning, wider and sharper than before. “A bold claim for a brat who looks like he’s one bad day away from crumbling. What could a nameless, misplaced scrap like you possibly offer me?”

Yuji took a shaky breath. He hoped he knew what he was doing. Making a deal with the devil. Again. 2.0.

“Information,” Yuji said, his eyes locking onto Sukuna’s primary pair. “I came from the future. I’m sure there are plenty of things you’d like to know about it. Like how you died.” 

Beside them, the white-haired attendant bristled, a biting frost beginning to coat the floorboards. They took a step forward. “You dare suggest Sukuna-sama could be—” 

“Uraume,” Sukuna interrupted, his voice a sharp command. He kept his gaze fixed on Yuji, resembling a cat that had just found a very interesting new toy—one he hadn’t decided whether to play with or break open just to see what was inside. “Go on then. Tell me.”

Yuji scoffed in disbelief. “I’m not falling for that. I’m not making the same mistake with you again.”

“Again?” Sukuna’s interest piqued, one of his secondary eyes twitching in curiosity. But Yuji ignored it.

“We’re doing this right,” Yuji said, planting his feet. “Make a pact with me first. One with the fine print read out loud, and every loophole closed. Then, and only then, I’ll share what you want to know.”

The silence returned. Uraume looked ready to flash-freeze him where he stood for the sheer audacity of demanding a contract from the King, but Sukuna just stood there, letting the words sink in.

Then, Sukuna chuckled. “Well,” Sukuna purred, tilting his head, his eyes gleaming with a predatory sort of respect. “At least you’re not a total dumbass.” 

“Been there, done that. Don’t need a repeat. Ever,” Yuji muttered, the words barely audible. 

His stomach twisted. The memory of the day Sukuna had used their pact still haunted him. It had only been a few months ago in his timeline, but the fallout had been a lifetime’s worth of nightmares. He’d been played, pure and simple.

Well, it’s not like it wasn’t my fault, he thought bitterly. If he had just died earlier, or better yet, if he’d never swallowed that rotting finger in the first place... He shook the thought away. No use spiralling now.

“Very well, brat,” Sukuna said. “But remember.” His smirk widened, revealing rows of unnaturally sharp teeth. “A pact goes both ways. If your information is worthless, if you’ve come here to waste my time with some delusions of a madman, it will not exempt you from me. I shall ensure you regret the audacity of even daring to breathe.”

Yuji shuddered. He knew that was far from a lie. He nodded. 

“State your terms, then,” Sukuna commanded, his voice dropping. “And be very careful with your words, Itadori Yuji.”