Chapter Text
Japan's number of missing person cases amount to more or less eighty-seven thousand in total, and Kugisaki Nobara supposes that she will be another one of those unsolvable mysteries in a while. Most of those missing person cases are usually because of cursed spirits or objects that happened upon the wrong person—a simple 'wrong timing' kind of incident or worse, a purposeful one. Kugisaki Nobara, and by extension, Fushiguro Megumi and Itadori Yuuji (because god knows she is rarely seen with at least one of them in the past few days) fall into the 'wrong timing' category depending on where you look at it from. The last memory Nobara has before they ended up in the dump is finally finding Megumi, barely conscious, after she and Itadori had beaten the two brothers. And before they know it, they are stranded in the middle of a dump. Literally.
And it would have been alright just like that. Megumi, Itadori, and Nobara had been transported to a different place more than once already—as seen with the cursed brothers they had just defeated—and all sorcerers were trained on how to handle Domain Expansions, therefore, getting stranded in a different place is normal. Something they should not panic at, hopefully, depending on the situation. But that is not the source of Nobara's problem right now.
Not only are they stuck, but they are also severely wounded and missing a third of their usual trio—Itadori Yuuji—perhaps, the third that they are supposed to keep in watch of the most. At the same time, Nobara cannot absolutely leave Megumi, barely responding to anything that snaps him awake. Of course, Nobara, exhausted, slaps Megumi across the face. The boy snaps his eyes open almost immediately.
"Fushiguro," she hisses, grabbing the boy's cheeks and pulling him to face her right in the eyes, "Fushiguro. Wake up."
Her classmate's eyes begin to refocus, albeit a little too late that Nobara may or may not be worried. What makes their situation more pressing is how ruined their cellphones currently are. They originally had submerged into the beach a few meters away from them, and Nobara even had to pull Fushiguro to the shore. A part of her despairs at the idea of Itadori having had drowned alive, though she doubts that fact—Itadori is the vessel of Sukuna and is, arguably, the most athletic one out of all of them. He will most definitely not die because of drowning. So it is either he left, or he was never dragged with them, though, that is another fact that Nobara is in disbelief of. She is eighty-percent sure that Itadori was with them, though separated.
Fushiguro tries to sit up and Nobara assists quickly, ushering him to a nearby broken television. "Wh—where's Nitta-san?" He asks shakily.
"I don't know," Nobara answers, "We've been here for more than a handful of hours and she's still not here. The curses have been dealt with so, she probably wasn't dragged into the fight. And before you ask, we can't call her number. Our phones are drenched."
"Drenched...?"
Nobara's eye twitches. Fushiguro obviously still has not regained his full consciousness. She abruptly points to their left. "We got dropped off at the beach," she says, "Do you not remember what happened?"
With barely any coherent response from Fushiguro and his painfully obvious bloodloss, Nobara drills him on what is happening: the curse brothers are dead, something suddenly dragged them away and dropped them off a beach, and Itadori is missing. The last part is what is most pressing, and Nobara is glad that Fushiguro shares the same sentiments. This is not the first time that Itadori was separated from them and as much as Nobara likes to tease Itadori, she has no plans on letting him die for the second time. Definitely, definitely not.
Nobara pushes herself up with her knees. Fushiguro immediately catches her movements and sends her a questioning look. "You. Stay here. I just wanted you awake before I leave to find a person to borrow a phone from and hopefully, Nitta-san too," she explains simply
Fushiguro frowns. "Be careful."
"Says the one who's barely speaking coherently. Oh, and, let me borrow your gakuran."
Nobara walks away. The beach is surprisingly full of nothing but trash. If a place like this had existed in Japan all her life, then Nobara must be living under a rock. A beach being used as a junkyard, she thinks disgustedly. Of all the places that curse—or if it is even a curse—dropped them off in, they just so decided that a junkyard would be the perfect place? She swiftly wears Fushiguro's larger gakuran over her own, successfully hiding the wounds littering all over her arms and how her uniform is practically torn in every possible way. With a sigh, she changes the part of her hair, moving it to the other side to hide her wounds. She glances at the nearby broken mirror and nods to herself. She looks less haggard now, even with the barely effective mode of disguise.
She reaches the street as she tucks in the gakuran under her skirt. Luckily, it does not take a while for a jogger to pass by. She thanks the gods that Fushiguro happened to have woken up near early morning instead of having Nobara walk around in the middle of the night. "Um, excuse me, obasan," she calls kindly.
The old lady appears to be your typical old lady jogging early morning, with two other women accompanying her. Nobara lets herself relax. Even in this odd situation, she finds comfort at how much the old ladies look and act like the old ladies back in her hometown. "Yes?" Chips in one of the women.
Nobara makes sure to give her best smile. "You see, obasan, my phone ran out of battery, and my father's going to be worried if I don't reply to his messages later," she feigns worry, "Can I please, please, please borrow your phone real quick, obasan?"
The woman returns her smiles. "What a good daughter," she compliments eagerly, "My son would have had let his phone be. He never answers it when I message him."
"Ah, Asako-san, daughters are the worst at it. Always on their phones but never replying," another woman sighs. She fiddles with her pockets. "Here, here. Use it as much as you need to. Wouldn't want your father to get worried, wouldn't you?"
"Thank—" Nobara shuts her mouth as soon as she opens it. The hand holding out the phone resembles more of a dog's than that of a human's. Fur lines from the wrist of the old lady, up until the tips of her fingers, nails replaced with claws, and the pale of her skin replaced by a deep brown. She snaps her eyes to the woman, wide and wary—a curse—"Oh, cute hands, I have, don't I? Asako-san and Miyuki-san are always asking to press on them, but that's too embarrassing," blushes the dog-handed woman.
Asako, the one who complained about her son, slaps her friend on her arm. "Oh, Inoue-san, they are really soft," she flatters and Nobara remains stuck. She does not know what happened to her but only then does she notice the faint green tint on the old lady Asako's skin, still humane in terms of appearance but odd. The dog-woman, Inoue has a tail swinging back and forth, and the last, Miyuki, is normal all over besides her obnoxiously sharp, lizard-like eyes.
Nobara's eyes fleet to the opposite side of the street and she insists that it is the bloodloss and the concussion at fault, but she only notices how many people look strange—a lizard man is walking around as if there is nothing wrong in the world, a bunch of normal-looking people are around too, but at the same time, Nobara is surrounded by mutants. Like that X-Men movie that Itadori talked about, something like Gojou-sensei making him sit down and watch so many movies in one sitting but—mutants.
She gulps down her suspicion and sends a thankful smile to the old women. She aggressively types in Gojou-sensei's number, one that the Strongest Sorcerer insisted to be memorized in case of emergency which she is thankful for. The line comes in: "Hello? Kurata speaking," a masculine voice greets.
Nobara cuts the call.
Fushiguro and Nobara take it upon themselves to wash their clothes clean of blood and gore—for Nobara, a little too much guts because of how she made one of the curse brothers explode right behind her; and they were actually people, weren't they?—once Nobara finishes explaining what she found out from the weird old ladies and what she when she entered the streets. "Are we even in Japan, still? I don't think we're in Saitama anymore, 'shiguro," Nobara mutters to herself with Fushiguro sitting right behind her, backs to each other.
They practically started from scratch. Itadori is nowhere in the beach, and they checked more than thrice already. Nobara and Fushiguro are down to their underwear ("If you look, I'll kill you," and, "As if," were half-heartedly exchanged in attempt to keep up a comedic atmostphere but that failed miserably), watching their clothes dry up above the makeshift fire Fushiguro started. If they are going to start going out of the beach, then they have to look at least presentable. It is only fortunate of them that Nobara actually has a needle and a thread among her weapons, lest they will look like ragged teens.
With narrowed eyes, Nobara stretches her legs forward. The sand tickles her legs. She wonders how long it has been since they last went to the beach—oh, there was that time with the upperclassmen and Itadori. It feels so long ago, when Itadori was shooting with his phone and Nobara had to hit him across the head and drag him with them. The beach becomes an enemy rather than a friend now. She leans her head back, neck craning to place itself on Fushiguro's shoulder. "Where the hell is Itadori?" She grumbles in annoyance. "You think he's still back in Saitama with Niita-san?"
"No. He definitely got dragged too," Fushiguro answers.
Nobara winces. (Itadori's sharp yell, a strange hole, Nobara and Fushiguro panicking, reaching out to Itadori, and the world spinning.) She gathers her legs into her arms. "You think we're in a Domain Expansion? It wouldn't be weird if we are—there are Illusionary-Type Domains, right? Because then we can—" She cuts herself off, sighing. Her hands begin shaking for no apparent reason. "We don't have money. Our phones are wet. What are we going to do if we're really not in Japan anymore? Steal—oh. Oh."
Fushiguro flinches. He tries to turn his head but returns to his own side. "Kugisaki, no."
A mischievous look passes on Nobara's face. She grabs her clothing and dresses herself up quickly. "Let's go to a convenience store tomorrow, and pick some things up," she offers Fushiguro's clothes, to which he accepts.
"Kugisaki, you're not going to steal in a convenience store," Fushiguro turns down.
"Then who—oh," Nobara watches Fushiguro's fingers form into a seal, summoning his most favored curses, a pair of monochromatic dog-like creatures. She beams at her classmate. "You're using your Ten Shadows to steal?"
"No one can see them."
Or so they think.
Their first attempt in robbery ends up with them sitting across the table from an elderly man who claims to be the manager of the convenience store. He is definitely too old to be working, much less, hanging out alone in the convenience store, and that is exactly why Nobara and Fushiguro had targeted him to begin with. (Well, a girl's got'ta do what a girl's got'ta do—is what Nobara told herself to get rid of the guilt of stealing from such an old man.) But somehow, Nobara is uncomfortably shifting herself on the metal chair, waiting for the man to return to his seat after excusing himself.
She leans to her right, mouth right beside Fushiguro's ear. "Do you think we can run for it?" She asks.
Fushiguro, however, is too distracted. He grabs Nobara's arm. "He saw Gyokuken—everybody saw my shikigami, Kugisaki," he hisses, "It's either all of them have cursed energy high enough to see my shikigami, which is doubtful, or—or—" He huffs out, frustrated. He runs his fingers through his hair and leans his elbows to the table. "Are you sure you couldn't contact even Yaga-sensei?"
"I also tried contacting Ieiri-san," it is only proper for them to remember the number of the person who will be healing them, after all, but even then, a different person answered the other line. Nobara cannot even contact Maki-san, or Inumaki-senpai, and Panda-senpai. Not even one. "I—I also tried contacting my hometown. Apparently, there is no Kugisaki Family that lived in that place, and definitely no Nobara." She smiles, forced. "Wherever we are, we're nowhere near where we used to be."
Before Fushiguro can reply, the old man who owns the convenience store marched up and placed down two bento boxes. "Eat," he gruffs.
"Excuse me?" Nobara kindly asks.
"Eat," the old man repeats blandly, "You two were trying to steal something with that one's Quirk—" Fushiguro and Nobara meet each other's eyes curiously. "—right? And you two look like you haven't beed fed in days, and those wounds... have you two been dragged by Villains?" They continue to grow more and more confused. "I heard middle school students are more prone to getting recruited nowadays."
Nobara glances at the food and decides to go with the flow. "We didn't mean to," the faux guilt seeps through, ignoring Fushiguro's sharp look, "We came from the countryside. From Morioka—" Which technically is true for Nobara, while Fushiguro came from Saitama. "—and we were looking for our friend. We suspected that he was kidnapped by—" Hesitation drips her tone. "—villains."
In another case, Nobara would have snorted at the stupidity of the word. Villains, seriously? But Nobara and Fushiguro passed by the convenience store's magazines earlier and it had nothing but men and women in spandex suits in the front covers. Nobara originally thought that they were nothing but comic books but the television screen followed up, the billboards they passed by, and the strange mutant-like appearances of the people. Curses? She wondered, and even Fushiguro found himself unsure of the whole situation. Obviously, this is not their world. And obviously, the laws do not work the same way as it once did.
First, the people. Second, the heroes. And third, everyone can see Fushiguro's Gyokuken.
And the lack of amusement on the manager's face.
Nobara continues her overdramatic spiel about how nobody in their hometown tried to do anything about it because they were religious and therefore, simply thought that their dead friend 'Yuu-chan' (Fushiguro cringes) became spirited away by the mountain spirits because 'he was always an adventurous person!', so they just had to look for him somewhere. She does not elaborate on why they ended up in Tokyo of all places, nor does she elaborate why they ended up stealing in a convenience store. She sweatdrops.
The old man only sighs. "Eat for now. I have no idea why you're lying, but I don't care. You two obviously need all the food you can get," he grumbles and leaves the room under the same breath.
Fushiguro leans back to his chair. "So... Yuu-chan?"
"Shut up!" Nobara's face turns bright in embrassment. She begins tearing up the bento box, doing the same with Fushiguro's and walking to the microwave. "What else could we have said? Your shikigami were literally caught."
"They shouldn't have seen them," Fushiguro says back.
"But they did."
Fushiguro sighs. The ticking noise of the microwave is all they can hear. The anxiety is getting to the both of them: whether it is the way Fushiguro continuously taps his finger against the table, or the way Nobara's foot is mimicking him. "Villains? Quirks?" Fushiguro exhales.
“And they even called your Gyokuken a ‘Quirk’. Is that another term for Cursed Technique?” Nobara asks, flipping through a random magazine she saw at the back of the microwave. She mumbles a small gratitude for the food before digging in. “Here—” She points at a page. “—this is from a few days ago. Some guy called Best Jeanist saved the day, or something.”
“Best Jeanist?
“I know.”
The page shows a man clad in dark blue, decked from head to toe in nothing but jeans, as a reference to his name. Beside his obnoxious posing is, allegedly, a description about him: ‘One of the Top Ten in the current hero billboards, BEAST JEANIST! His Quirk? Fiber Master. With this, he was able to easily protect the citizens from a Villain with a Water Quirk—’ and more details that goes past Nobara’s comprehension without proper context of what exactly those other words truly mean.
Fushiguro seems to share the same sentiment, with his furrowed eyebrows and speculative frown. “A superpower and a superhero?” He confirms.
“It’s like Itadori’s X-Men.”
The door clicks open again, and the old man who owns the convenience store returns. He looks at Fushiguro and Nobara’s empty bento boxes. “Are you done? If you’re done, you can leave,” he says, opening the door wide, “Think about your actions and don’t do it again.”
Fushiguro nods simply and pulls Nobara by her arm, but not before stuffing the magazine from earlier under his gakuran, and held together by his pants. He bows apologetically while Nobara follows suit. “We’re sorry again,” he grunts.
But no, Nobara and Fushiguro are definitely not sorry, for they end up in the same situation in a matter of two days, having been caught robbing a different convenience store. But this time, the old man saves them from the disaster that would have happened if they were caught. They are still on the opposite side of the table, the man looking at them not only in disappointment but also in helplessness.
To be fair, they managed to get a fact or two from rummaging through magazines and they did manage a successful heist not much earlier.
Fact one: They are in Musutafu, Japan, the city with the most heroes and the home of Japan’s largest ‘hero school’ (Nobara snorted), UA.
Fact two: Eighty-percent of humanity possess preternatural abilities dubbed as ‘Quirks’, or lesser known as ‘individuality’, which is exactly as they say. In connection to this, there are heroes who roam the streets who are permitted to use this abilities to fight crime and help people in their day-to-day needs. Fushiguro is still unsure on what the difference between a ‘Pro-Hero’ and a cop is.
Fact three: In their original world, it had been the third of October in the year 2018 and yet, in Musutafu, it is currently the fourth of December, months after and yet, very far into the future. More than two hundred years in the future.
Fact four: Itadori is still missing, and they cannot ask anyone for help.
The Kugisaki Family does not exist, much less the Fushiguro and the Zen’in Family. There are no signs of Cursed Spirits or even Cursed Energy present in this land, no Tokyo Jujutsu High School, no Gojou Family, Kamo Family—their lives do not exist in Musutafu, Japan. They are blank slates with no records to their name, and therefore, seeing help from authorities and pretending to be damsels in distress will not help. Kugisaki Nobara and Fushiguro Megumi are alone, missing a third of their group, and stuck in a world where they do not exist, where they do not belong.
The old man hovers in front of them, back a little hunched as he offers another bento box to them. Nobara is a little more hesitant in accepting it this time. “I’m not going to ask why you keep on stealing,” he says and glances at Fushiguro, “I’m sure both of you know the consequences of Public Usage of Quirks; a record on your file would make it very hard for you to find jobs and schools, but your friend over here recklessly used his Quirk again. To steal. Tell me, both of you, are you associated with villains?
Nobara waves her hands immediately. “We’re not! We’re just—”
“Lost,” Fushiguro interrupts. “It’s true we’re not from here. It’s true that we’re finding a friend. It’s also true that we don’t have any money, or any means to contact the people we know. None. So no, we’re not associated with villains.”
Nobara sighs. Honestly, she is so exhausted. In the few days they were stuck in this place, there were too many times when the both of them were accused for being ‘judgemental assholes’, because of how they jump in fright and attempt to fight down any curse-looking citizen. They barely have food to live off of, and none to rely on. To say she is uncomfortable in this world (this too peaceful world, plagued with no Cursed Spirits) is an understatement. Is it her way of saying she is much used to fighting? She was trained as a child for this. It only makes sense if it is all she knows, and all she is to expect.
She bites her inner cheek. She almost jumps out of her skin when the old man pushes both bento boxes to her and Fushiguro. “What are your names?” He asks.
Fushiguro and Nobara share a glance. “I’m Kugisaki Nobara and he’s Fushiguro Megumi.”
The old man smiles, too small to be seen but big enough for it to be almost noticeable. “‘Blessing’ and ‘wild roses’? Your parents chose beautiful names,” he mumbles whistfully, “I had grand-children your age, ended up being rascals who ran away from home and got recruited by villains. All kids seem to have this ‘rebellious’ stage, or a political one, where they think everything about the society is right. I have no plans in asking anymore, but I also don’t want to watch two kids get called villains—” Nobara catches a glimmer of green and red in the old man’s eyes. Perhaps his ‘quirk’? “What do you say about working in the convenience store?”
OMAKE
slouched and hanging out in the park—musutafu park, apparently—nobara squints uncomfortably. beside her, megumi skims through the pages of a newspaper he managed to get for free, left alone on the bench they are sitting on. “i saw someone with rainbow hair. it looked natural. they had a horn too,” says nobara, looking longingly at the ice cream stand only a few meters away.
“stop staring at people. that’s rude,” megumi reminds.
“you stared at the guy with a horse head too, ‘shiguro. you almost got socked in the face.”
“...”
nobara leans back. “don’t you think the name ‘best jeanist’ sounds stupid?” she begins. “i mean, his technique can make him control thread, right? so why jeans? it’s like calling gojou-sensei ‘best sunglasses’ because of his rikugan. or, like, ‘best blindfolds’.”
megumi sighs. “the more you talk, the hungrier you get.”
“...i saw a convenience store being manned by a middle schooler.”
“just a middle schooler?”
and that is how megumi summons gyokuken once again, the third of their successful heist without a hitch. though, nobara does hear that the middle school student got fired right after.
being of one mind