Cursed Eyes (Itachi in JJk)

There was a displacement of air and space as Satoru appeared in front of the gates with his hands on Yuji's shoulders.

He threw a glance at the boy and was immensely amused at how the kid seemed to shrug off the effects of his teleportation. The pink-haired boy didn't even seem to notice it; instead, his wide brown eyes were taking everything in.

So, Satoru refocused back on the clan as he pushed the now replaced gate open. He ignored the rapidly disappearing cursed energy signatures that had been hiding and observing the clan.

The Hei and the Akai Hasu. They were the reason he had followed the front entrance of the clan, instead of simply appearing inside. His presence here was a thinly veiled threat and warning. Fuck off.

"Where are we?" Yuji Itadori asked as they walked past the clan gates and began to thread the cracked and broken cobblestones that lined the roads.

"The Gojo clan," Satoru replied, ruffling the kid's head with a wide grin. "You're going to spend the day here, at least till the higher-ups decide on what they should do with you."

His words forced the boy to sober up. "What do you think will happen?" Satoru gave him another glance as they stepped past the courtyard and found their way deeper into the clan grounds.

Seeing the seriousness on the kid's face, he decided to lighten the atmosphere a bit as he replied with a shrug. "It's still undecided. The council is made up of a mix of the old guards and the major clan elders. We have enough pull, coupled with the presence of me and Jiki, to slow any unfavorable decisions, so don't worry too much about it. But till then, you stay here. Can't allow any overly ambitious elder the chance to act impulsively."

He waved a passing maid to a stop and gestured at Itadori before speaking to her.

"Get him a room in the inner quarters for the day." Then he turned to Yuji, noting the apprehension on the kid's face. He ruffled his hair again. "Don't think about it too much right now, kid. Rest your head. There will be enough for you to worry about tomorrow."

The kid visibly shook off his apprehension and returned Satoru's grin with a big smile. "Alright. I'll be off now."

Satoru shook his head in amazement at the rapid shift in the boy's tone and composure. He had only known the boy for hours, but somehow he knew that it would take something absolutely extraordinary to make the boy feel down for long.

Then his attention turned back to the main house and the ominous air surrounding the building. Everyone stayed clear of it—from the actual clan members to the maids.

Few wanted to be so close to the building that reeked of such menace it would not have been surprising to know that a special-grade cursed object was present. Instead, the only two things present last he checked were Jiki and the cursed corpse, both special grades... his point stood.

He made his way into the building, pushing the door open and taking in the familiar yet somehow darker path. It felt like even the building had an idea of what was going on in its depths, and it had been irrevocably changed by it.

The one thing Satoru was surprised by, even as he took the stairs down to the underground chamber, was the lack of screams. Yet somehow, that made the tension worse, like the world was simply waiting for something horrible. The calm before the storm.

He reached the bottom of the staircase and was greeted by the sight of Jiki, backing the still-hanging and chained cursed corpse—but this was not the cursed corpse he had left behind.

A complex creature, yet simple because the only thing that powered it was the soul that housed it. Yet within the past few hours, it had changed.

"K-Kenjaku."

He had made it in time to hear the cursed corpse whisper out a name. In the dark room, the only light came from lanterns at the edges, which gave off a bare amount of light and heat, further enhancing the room's eerie air.

The only people left unhampered by the gloom were the two Gojo's. Satoru shifted his attention to the unrecognizable cursed corpse.

The shape of the soul was already changing the blank cursed corpse, leaving Satoru to once again marvel at what Principal Yaga had created. He knew the older man was skilled, and his cursed technique was malleable. But he had never expected something like this.

He could see breasts forming on the chest of the cursed corpse, along with tufts of black hair growing out of its skull, leaving Satoru once again wondering what the hell Yaga had created.

Jiki's back remained turned to the cursed corpse, his motions repeated as he washed his blood-stained hand in a basin of water. A flick of those red orbs at Satoru was his cousin's way of informing him he was aware of his presence, even if the cursed corpse wasn't.

It continued to repeat the name like a broken record as it hung limply off the hook. All of a sudden, it froze, then slowly twisted its neck to look in his direction. For a heartbeat, Satoru wondered if he had made a mistake, if somehow the reincarnated soul in the cursed corpse had spotted him.

Then he tracked the way its head was tilted and the direction. It was looking at something above him, farther into the distance. Yuji?

"My love?" the cursed puppet slurred out. But the longer it stared into the distance, the stronger its voice became as it called out again, delusional and ecstatic.

"That creepy bastard didn't lie, he brought my love back."

The proclamation was followed by a change in its cursed energy. Whatever it had realized, whatever conclusion it had reached, fueled a transformation and change. Suddenly, Satoru watched its cursed energy output surge.

His eyes widened behind his eye wrap as he watched her cursed technique rush to fully imprint itself upon both soul and body. Her once-placid form grew taut in the bindings, black irises flaring as her body convulsed. In that split second, liquid metal materialized at the points where chains and hooks suspended the cursed corpse, twisting and shaping into blades and spikes. With a deafening clang, the bindings were severed, and the cursed corpse was freed.

It dropped from its hook, transforming mid-fall into a supple woman with long, flowing black hair. She landed effortlessly, her feet planted firmly on the ground, calves bunched with tension, arms outstretched for balance.

The damage Jiki had inflicted earlier was gone, erased in the process of her change from cursed corpse to a fully incarnated sorcerer. Her body gleamed with newfound strength as the liquid metal began to wrap around her form like a living armor. But she wasn't content to wait for it to complete. In an instant, she pounced at Jiki's seemingly unguarded back, her form already half-covered in a grotesque insectoid armor. The liquid metal was fast—but Jiki was faster.

"Wait for me, my love! We shall be reunited soon!"

The moment her claws extended toward him, both Jiki and Satoru moved.

Jiki pivoted on the spot, his body trailing water as he ducked beneath the outstretched strike. In one fluid motion, he lunged upward, cleaver in hand, driving it into her jaw with a bone-rattling uppercut. The cursed energy-reinforced blade smashed into her still-forming armor, shattering part of the jaw. But even as the damage landed, the cracks were already sealing themselves shut, liquid metal filling in the wounds like molten gold.

She glared down at him with a single visible black eye, the left side of her face still unarmored as the grotesque insectoid mask began to cover it. Her grin widened. Jiki remained unfazed. He let the cleaver fall from his grasp and smoothly transitioned into an armlock, grabbing her outstretched limb. With a swift twist of his legs, he wrapped them around her arm, pulling her down to a knee as she was forced to bear his weight.

It was just enough time.

Satoru appeared beside her in a blur, two fingers lightly pressed against her head. A grin stretched across his face.

Her remaining eye widened in realization. Desperately, she hastened the formation of her liquid metal armor, the shell creeping over Satoru's hand, unable to cut through infinity and take off his fingers, it was forced to make do with trapping his two fingers pressed against her head, leaving his fingers inside her shell. Her insectoid armour completed but with a fatal flaw. Vestigial wings sprouted from her back, twitching as she tensed her legs to leap away. But Jiki tightened his hold, anchoring her in place.

He planted his back firmly against the ground, reinforcing and sticking to it with cursed energy. When she tried to lift him, her legs buckled under the weight of not just him, but the very foundation of the mansion. She was pinned, vulnerable.

Satoru's smile widened, a feral look in his eyes.

"Cursed Technique Reversal: Red."

At point-blank range, there was no escape. A pulse of raw power erupted from Satoru's fingers with a deep thump, trapped as it was behind the shell. a sound so quiet it barely registered before the world seemed to pause. 

A heartbeat later, the liquid metal shell began to fracture. Tiny cracks appeared, then spread like spiderwebs, growing faster and faster until the entire armor shattered. A shower of shards exploded outward. Jiki rolled back in one swift motion, avoiding the debris, while Satoru remained completely still. The shards embedded themselves into his Limitless field, frozen in midair.

With a sickening thud, the woman's body dropped to the floor. Her upper half was missing, blood spurting from where her torso had been, splattering the ground as her remains collapsed from her knees, lifeless.

Jiki rose to his feet, dusting off the blood and shrapnel like it was nothing more than an inconvenience. He and Satoru locked eyes, exchanging a silent glance.

Satoru expression shifted, loosing that feral edge for his more lackadaisical grin as shards of bone and metal dropped to the ground. "I expected more from a golden age sorcerer."

Jiki's answer was to give his cousin a blank look, his gaze drifting past the Special Grade's remains. "The two of us against her, It was never a contest." jiki's attention drifted once again.

"Kenjaku," Satoru observed the way the name seemed to roll off Jiki's tongue, as if the younger Gojo was searching for something familiar in it. "Kenjaku, not Orochimaru," Jiki repeated, before nodding to himself and turning to face Satoru.

"I don't suppose we have anything on that name in the clan archives?" Jiki asked, and Satoru shot him a wry grin.

"I'm sure we can check, but before that, I've got someone I want you to meet."

Jiki blinked at his cousin's exuberance before sighing and rolling his tired shoulders. "Sure, but I'm going to need a bath first," he stated, glancing down at his blood-stained clothes. "Then I'll check up on Aiko."

...

His bath had been… different. It took him minutes to figure out what had changed, but when he did, a chill settled in his chest.

The difference was Aiko—more accurately, her absence. She would never have left him to bathe alone. Ever since he returned to the clan after the Parade, she had taken to pampering him in a way that reminded him of his childhood.

His mood soured, he slipped out of the tub and walked over to the mirror, snatching a towel on the way.

He stared at his reflection. He looked pretty much the same as he had months ago. His hair had grown out again, and the longer he examined his features, the more he saw Satoru's face—but the slant of his eyes was more like Geto's.

His hands moved automatically, tying his hair up in Geto's favorite style. The look brought a smile to his face, though it darkened slightly when he saw them.

Stress lines, just beneath his eyes. He let out a laugh devoid of humor as he traced the twin marks on his face.

"Aiko wouldn't like them," he muttered to himself. They were familiar, though. Had he truly been so stressed by Aiko's coma that the marks had returned?

Luckily for him, they were still faint—light enough that, with any luck, they'd fade away by the time he woke her up.

A shuffle of footsteps from the other side of the door caught his attention. He could sense the maids outside, waiting for him to emerge. Their unfamiliarity, coupled with his recent deeds in the depths of the clan, no doubt put them on edge.

He supposed Yorozu's screams must have been loud. Loud enough to reach past the cavern and echo out. Perhaps a barrier would've been wise—something to keep in mind for next time.

He froze.

Next time? He was already reverting.

Shaking off the dark thoughts, he turned to get dressed, a task accomplished in seconds without Aiko fussing over him.

He stepped out, walking past the bowed, silent maids. They reeked of fear.

Finding Satoru was no challenge, especially when his cousin made no attempt to hide or mask his immense cursed energy. Sensing the boy with him was significantly harder, but not impossible—especially when he already had a feel for his cursed energy.

A rough flow, indicating an inexperienced or very young curse user, coupled with the barely-hidden malicious intent beneath it. Likely the person Satoru wanted him to meet. Finding the duo would be easy, so Jiki shifted his attention back to his destination as he came to a stop.

He took a breath and slid the door open with ease, stepping into the room and making a beeline for Aiko's sleeping form. Unlike the first time he had visited, she wasn't surrounded by maids.

He took a seat beside her bed, gazing down at her. She looked as peaceful as ever. A serenity rested on her face that wouldn't be out of place if she were truly sleeping. Yet that seal etched on her forehead remained.

"Kenjaku," he whispered, the name slipping from his lips with an unfamiliar emotion tainting it.

He reached for her hand but stopped halfway, the memory of what he'd done hours ago surfacing. The screams. The pain. His blood-soaked hands.

He let out another humorless laugh, withdrawing his hands and locking them beneath his chin as he stared at her.

No, she wouldn't be pleased. But it wouldn't stop him. He had done worse for less.

...

"So what happens if they reject this offer you mentioned?" Yuji asked, turning to the white-haired man—Gojo Satoru.

Satoru wasn't paying attention. Instead, his head was pointed toward the distance, toward a two-story mansion built in the clan's old, traditional style.

Talking about a clan in 2018 still felt ridiculous. It was like something out of a manga written by a lazy author. If not for how real everything felt. Yuji glanced down at his hand, clenching his fist hard enough to feel his nails dig into his palm.

Yup, this was real.

"I told you not to worry about it, kid," Satoru finally replied. "Anyway, he's coming now."

Yuji's head snapped up toward the entrance of the courtyard.

It was a stone garden. He didn't exactly understand why a place full of statues was called a garden, but he hadn't cared enough to ask. Probably a rich clan quirk. So far, he'd seen five members of the clan—four of them plain maids, and the fifth was Satoru.

Wherever they were, no other member seemed interested in coming closer. Except for the person Yuji saw walking through the archway leading into the clan.

"Jiki! Over here!" Satoru waved exaggeratedly.

Gojo Jiki. The teen approached, and Yuji had to admit, he looked good. Ridiculously good, just like his cousin. Was being attractive a sorcerer requirement? Jiki's face was an uncaring mask, his expression apathetic as he stared past Satoru and straight at Yuji.

Yuji knew little about Satoru, other than Megumi briefly mentioning he was strong. Yuji hadn't seen it—Satoru always had a carefree smile and a whimsical air about him.

But Jiki was different. There was something about him. Maybe it was the red eyes, the calm, collected demeanor, or the way his footsteps made no sound even on the cobblestones. Yuji's eyes drifted to Satoru's smile and he was forced to wonder. How was this rolling ball of barely disguised apathy and menace the cutest little cousin in the whole world Satoru had talked about for hours!

All Yuji knew was that Jiki was scary.

"Satoru," Jiki greeted. What could be vaguely called a smile appeared on his face.

"How is she?" Satoru asked, leaving Yuji to blink in confusion at the duo.

"Same as when I left her. I don't think anything's going to change anytime soon. Unless we change it." There was a hardness in Jiki's voice that vanished just as quickly as it appeared.

"Hmmm," Satoru mused, touching his chin before nodding. "A few days. Give it that. If partial amnesia is all she sacrifices, we'll do it your way."

Jiki hummed noncommittally before asking, "And Kenjaku?"

Satoru scratched his head, letting out a nervous laugh. "The record keepers haven't gotten back to me. Anyway, introductions!"

Satoru pivoted, gesturing toward Yuji, who was still seated and thoroughly confused.

"This is Itadori Yuji, the resident vessel of Ryomen Sukuna. Yuji Itadori, meet my marvelous little cousin, Gojo Jiki."

Yuji waved with a smile, but Jiki merely raised a well-crafted brow in response.

"A vessel? How did that happen?"

"I swallowed his finger… I think," Yuji admitted with a bashful smile, prompting Jiki's other brow to rise.

"Why?"

The question was so blunt that Yuji blinked, then blinked again when he realized the two white-haired Gojo's were staring at him.

"To gain cursed energy?" he said, half-asking the question himself.

Jiki blinked, then shifted his attention to Satoru. "How is he in control? The last vessel we encountered was intelligent but still a raving mad curse in a body that was rapidly deteriorating."

Yuji wisely ignored the deteriorating part, instead asking, "You've met another vessel? Where is he?"

Satoru was the one to reply, starting with Jiki's question. "He's a perfect vessel, Jiki. As for the other one, it's dead. Per jujutsu regulations, its execution was carried out by my marvelous Jiki," Yuji's eyes widened and Satoru burst out laughing at his expression.

"Don't worry, kid. I like you. Anyway," Satoru turned back to Jiki, "I'm leaving him in your care. I have to see the higher-ups, but before I go, I want to test something."

Satoru slipped a hand into his pocket, pulling out a wrapped cloth with seals and talismans around it that he deftly tossed to Yuji.

Yuji caught it and slowly unwrapped it to reveal a twisted, malformed crimson finger oozing malevolence. "Is this…?"

"Yes," Satoru replied with a grin. "Before I meet with the higher-ups, I need to test something."

"Which is?" Jiki asked.

"My bargaining chip," Satoru said with a grin, pointing at Yuji. "So eat up, kid."

Yuji stared at the finger in his hand for a second, equally disgusted and mesmerized. He glanced at the two Gojos, then tilted his head back and swallowed the finger.

For a moment, they all froze as Yuji hunched over. Jiki sent a questioning gaze at Satoru, who shrugged in response.

A pulse of pure malice surged through the air, and dark markings began to creep along Yuji's skin, snaking up his arms and across his frame like black tendrils. Yuji curled, clutching his stomach. His breath hitched, and for a moment, the world around him warped—muted whispers filled his ears, guttural and twisted, curses and swears.

Then, just as quickly as it began, it stopped.

"Whew, that tasted gross!" Yuji lifted his head, forcing a grin as he tried to shake off the lingering disgust. He made a face at the two, wiping his mouth. "I thought it'd be better the second time around."

Satoru burst into laughter, his voice light and carefree. "Hahahahaha! That settles it, brat."

Jiki, however, wore a different expression—a look of quiet contemplation.

"Anyway, I'm off." Satoru stretched lazily, turning his back on them. His tone was nonchalant, but there was a pointed look in Jiki's direction—a silent message. Jiki nodded in acknowledgment while Yuji was forced to stare at the pair in confusion and realization at the fact that the two Gojo's communicated with more than just simple words. With a final grin, Satoru gave them a parting wave and vanished, his voice lingering in the air. "Play nice!"

Yuji let out a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his head. What did he mean by play nice? It's not like Jiki would actually do anything to him… right?

He turned to face the white-haired boy and froze when he realized Jiki was a hairbreadth away from his face, closing the distance in a split second. Up close, he noticed something he hadn't from farther away. The boy's red eyes weren't just crimson. A dark, intricate pattern swirled within them, like ink in water, shifting and flickering in the light. Those eyes bore into Yuji's, intense and unblinking, as Jiki spoke.

"Ryomen Sukuna," Jiki murmured, his voice low and calculating. "An opportunity."

The words hung in the air, heavy with intent. Before Yuji could fully process their meaning, Jiki's gaze sharpened. "This shouldn't hurt... much, Itadori-san."

A chill crawled down Yuji's spine as his vision began to blur. The edges of his world darkened, closing in. Just before everything went black, the soft, echoing sound of a droplet hitting water reached his ears, a distant, haunting noise.