Chapter Text
December 24, 2018. Pre-Regression.
Itadori Yuuji wakes up with a chill running down his spine on that Monday. Must be the weather, he chalks it up to, groggily rolling out of bed. He knows better though. Today is the day he and his friends would face off Sukuna and Kenjaku, once and for all.
Yuuji exhales shakily into the cold air as he gets ready. Glancing at his reflection in the mirror, the lack of markings around his eyes still give him a reason to pause. Sukuna had left his body, but at the expense of taking over Fushiguro's. If only Yuuji was smarter, maybe he could have...
He shakes off the thoughts, along with some dust that had gotten on his uniform pants. There's no need for that kind of thinking. Gojo-sensei is back now, and with the strongest sorcerer on their side, they would definitely be able to save Fushiguro. They had to.
This reassures Yuuji, and he begins thinking of all the ways he'll try to apologize to Fushiguro once Fushiguro gets un-possessed. It would be nice if the first face Fushiguro sees upon waking up is Gojo-sensei's -- the two have a long history together, right? Fushiguro didn't like talking about himself much, but Yuuji overheard from Maki that Gojo had known Fushiguro since Fushiguro was a child. Maybe Gojo even raised Fushiguro, though Yuuji kind of doubts that really happened. No offense to his sensei, but he seems a bit too irresponsible to properly raise kids as a teenager. Either way, that same kid Gojo had known is now the opponent Gojo would duel. And possibly die to.
Or win over, Yuuji reminds himself, walking into the common room. Probably win over. When has Gojo ever genuinely lost in a battle? The idea seemed like a fantasy to Yuuji, but according to the conversation from the other day...
Yuuji grimaces. Gojo didn't appear to hold the same opinion. The other day, before switch training, Gojo was acting weirdly out of character, talking to Yuuji about a future without him as the strongest. Just reminiscing that conversation confuses Yuuji, and he tries to dwell on other matters during his walk to the common room.
As Yuuji enters the common room, he notices the stilted and awkward atmosphere permeating the room. The adults stand on one side of the room, talking amongst themselves in low voices, while the students stand just by the stairs. Gojo-sensei hasn't arrived yet.
The jujutsu students try to fill the silence by putting a word to their well-wishes for their sensei. "Make sure you come back alive?" Panda pondered.
"Doesn't feel right, does it?" Hakari shrugged.
"Yeah...up til now, winning has always been a given for him."
The other students offered their thoughts in the conversation while Yuuji zones out. Everyone else...they don't get it.If Gojo's victory is so certain, why would he talk to Yuuji about what comes after he's gone? And not in the sense of back-up plans either. It doesn't make sense to Yuuji...Though this might be his nerves talking. He's already unsettled thinking about facing Sukuna again, let alone seeing him in Fushiguro's body. And on top of that, worrying about his sensei losing too? Ugh, it makes his head spin.
Yuuji's never been suited for worrying though, so when Gojo-sensei enters the room in all his splendor and serious attitude, Yuuji feels relief flood him. "Sensei! Your cursed technique's in the way!" he yells.
Gojo raises his eyebrows, quizzical, but a smile forms when Yuuji raises his hands. Gojo points at his back and grins. "Give it your best shot!"
Grinning, Yuuji hit his sensei's back, and the rest of the students followed. You got this, sensei! Win and bring back our Fushiguro!
Thud. Yuuji watches in a daze as the upper half of Gojo's body slides off, hitting the ground with that thud. That thud replays over and over in his head, loudere than the monologue Sukuna gives on screen. Yuuji bites his lips, beads of sweat dripping from his face. Gojo-sensei is--
He's--
Fushi--Sukuna killed--
His breath comes out harsh. His trembling fingers only come to a stop once he makes a fist, digging his nails into his skin. Another precious person dead. Another innocent life cut short because of Sukuna. Yuuji stares at the image of Gojo's bloodied yet standing lower-half. The camera pans to Sukuna's half-burned, smiling face.
A wave of vitriol pools in Yuuji's stomach at the sight, so potent it takes his breath away for a moment. This sorcerer...no, this curse killed thousands in Shibuya. Sukuna stole his best friend's body, and now killed his sensei. Yuuji has nothing but curses he wants to spit in Sukuna's face. That fraud who stole Fushiguro's face smiles with it so arrogantly, its painful to see. He wants to tear that smirk off and dredge it through the mud, make Sukuna feel that anger, that betrayal and anguish Yuuji is experiencing. He wants him to die.
Choso, sitting next to him, taps his shoulder apprehensively. "Yuuji," Choso whispers, eyebrows furrowed in concern. "Are you okay?"
Yuuji's breath hitches, and he avoids Choso's too-knowing eyes, instead looking around the room for a second. Some of the students look upset -- Okkotsu looks angry, which is expected. Okkotsu and Yuuji have always been similar in how they cared for their sensei. But for the most part, everyone seems to have swallowed the tough pill, readying their weapons for combat. Kashimo has already leaped off to duel Sukuna next.
Yuuji's nails dig deeper into his palm. Hold off those emotions, he tells himself. As though the deeper the marks in his palm are, the closer he gets to sealing away his emotions. It's as Todo said in Shibuya: "Looking for meaning or logic in death can at times defile the memories of those we lost". Right now, Gojo wouldn't want Yuuji to wallow in sorrow. Gojo would want everyone to avenge him and put an end to Sukuna, for good. That's the best a cog like Yuuji can do at the moment. For now...for now...
"I'm fine," Yuuji says. He can't muster enough energy to form a grin, so he settles for a half-grimace. A million potential replies pass through his head -- 'Sukuna's just always been like that', 'I kind of thought Gojo wouldn't win', or 'I've seen so many deaths, I think I've gotten used to them'.
Instead, what he ends up saying is: "Fine is all I can be right now, anyways."
A sad expression flits Choso's face, a sigh leaving him. He puts his hand on Yuuji's head and gently leans Yuuji's head on his shoulder. The two brothers of blood sit in silence, with only the dull throbbing of each other's heartbeat filling the gap. To Yuuji's ears, the sound is as calming as the push and pull of the waves on a beach. Proof that Choso is there with him, even when his friends and mentors have fallen.
And then Kashimo dies, and it's Yuuji and Higuruma's turn to face the mighty calamity. Choso sends Yuuji off with a pat on the back. Yuuji can't help but think of how, just minutes ago, they did the same for Gojo-sensei.
This time will be different, he thinks as he twists on his gauntlet. We'll put a stop to Sukuna before he can hurt anyone else.
We won't let Gojo's sacrifice be in vain.
Yuuji's role was to protect Higuruma from going against Sukuna alone. Yet the few moments Yuuji was away for was enough for Sukuna to use his cursed technique on Higuruma. In the split second that Yuuji catches the Executioner's sword, he feels a horrible sense of deja vu. No, no, no, no--!
There's a splash of blood, an outstretched hand, and a pair of eyes that finally managed to look at Yuuji: as if to say, my role ends here. It's your turn now.
"You've got it from here," Nanami had said in Shibuya.
"I've done what I can," Higuruma says, eyes firmly on Yuuji. The lawyer tries for one last grin.
Yuuji feels that anger rise up again. The best he can do is channel it. I am...Yuuji lifts up the Executioner's sword behind Sukuna...a jujutsu sorcerer!
The sword pierces through Sukuna's back like butter. Sukuna looks taken aback for a second. Yuuji holds his breath abatedly, clutching the sword in hand. But the sword shrinks and disintegrates, and Sukuna remains unharmed.
...Damnit! Yuuji blocks a few punches from Sukuna. A string of dismantles and punches fling him backwards. Why...!
"Looking for meaning or logic in death can at times defile the memories of those we lost."
The rough landing on the ground scrapes his gauntlet. Yuuji wipes blood away from his mouth as he gets up to face Sukuna. Okay, Todo. I won't think about that. From now on, I'll dedicate myself to defeating Sukuna, no matter who else dies. We're all just cogs, right? So no matter who dies...
Okkotsu Yuta joins the arena. With Okkotsu and Rika fighting alongside Yuuji, Yuuji starts to feel like they have a genuine chance at beating Sukuna and rescuing Fushiguro.
"Jacob's Ladder!!" Okkotsu chants. A bright beam of light thunders down from the sky, burning up Sukuna in something akin to a holy fire. Rika holds Sukuna back as Yuuji rushes in to deliver a punch.
"Wake up Fushiguro!" he says. So far, the battle's been going at a good pace. If he can just reawaken the embers of Fushiguro's soul, maybe this could end right here. And then--
He's suddenly in a dark, desolate chamber. Fushiguro is sunken onto the floor, face to the ground. Hands outstretched, slightly covering his head. "That's enough..." Fushiguro croaks, tone full of agony. Yuuji looks at him, face stricken. "I've had enough..."
With a startle, Yuuji realizes: what if he's trying to save someone who doesn't want to be saved?
The brief moment in Fushiguro's soul ends, and Yuuji is evicted back into reality. The first thing he hears is: "...of the dragon. Recoil. Twin meteors."
Yuuji's eyes widen in pain as a dismantle cuts into his chest. It's a superficial cut, strange considering the chant was supposed to strengthen the technique. Then Yuuji looks at the sorcerer next to him, and his eyes begin to shake. Arms and abdomen bisected by a single slash aimed at the world: Okkotsu bore the brunt of that World Cutting Slash. Just like Gojo-sensei. Rika screeches at the sight, scooping him in her arms and fleeing for help.
...no matter who dies...
Yuuji feels like he's going insane. Todo, I'm trying--
...
Maki was hit by a Black Flash powered punch. Kusukabe died.
...no matter who...?
Todo's words flash in his mind.
Yes, Todo. I'm a cog. I'm a cog. I'm a cog.
We're all cogs. Our duty is to get rid of Sukuna. No matter who dies, we're all just cogs and that makes it okay--
Following that is a string of more deaths. Ui Ui's bisected abdomen, killed as he was trying to teleport some of the injured sorcerers away. Choso's bruised, bloody face as he dissipated into the blood barrier protecting Yuuji from furnace. Gojo's abandoned body in the dumps, used as a weapon even after his death. Todo's diced remains after he shielded Angel while she was summoning a third Jacob's Ladder. And most recently, Maki's heaving figure while she clamps down the guts spilling from her stomach.
Somewhere along the middle of this string of events, Yuuji felt a vague sensation that maybe it was the point where something big should happen. A new application of a cursed technique, or maybe even a domain expansion to change the tide of this barrage. Yuuji tried to visualize a domain expansion into real life: something like Sukuna's domain, a shrine of bones or a fiery pit. The most he could muster was some light snow; a sudden surge of memories flowing into his head prevented him from pushing the domain expansion any further. Memories of all those fallen in battle. Junpei, Nanami, Kugisaki, Gojo, Higuruma, Kusukabe--
We're all cogs. We're all cogs. We're all cogs--
"Agh!" Yuuji grunts as he lands his next punch on Sukuna's face, right on the side where the curse's eye is bleeding. Those memories...they fill him up with pure rage. Anger. All of those lives cut short at Sukuna's whims. He continues beating Sukuna's face while being punched in the head by Sukuna's other arms. He's absolutely livid at the curse of a sorcerer who's stolen everything from him. The anger swishes violently like acid in his viscera, a pit from which all his words emerge laced with poison that burns even his throat. "SUKUNA! I'll end you!"
His own bleeding eye is a matching scar, and its only through his good eye he can see Sukuna's grim-set mouth. They both know this battle has dragged on for long enough. Both are worn out: their cursed techniques have burned out for the moment, and each have sustained damage. On Sukuna's side: several Jacob's ladders, hollow purples, direct attacks to the heart by the Soul-Split katana, and the soul-cleaves Yuuji's been attacking him with. Not to mention the toll from repeated usage of the cursed technique reset method Sukuna's been spamming. On Yuuji's side: two Jacob's ladders (he couldn't get out of the technique perimeter fast enough), a couple of black flashes from Sukuna, being chucked through a few buildings and the numerous cleaves and dismantles he's incurred over the course of the battle. He's lost count of the number of times he's used RCT and blood manipulation to re-attach his limbs.
The two are at a standstill, with each practically on their last leg. It's only a matter of who will tip the other over fastest.
"What, brat?" Sukuna taunts. "Already forgotten the plan to save your friend?" One of Sukuna's arms punches Yuuji in the stomach so hard he vomits blood. The blood splatters on Sukuna's face and, sensing an opportunity, Yuuji hardens that blood over Sukuna's eyes. The blood detonates, blowing off the skin on Sukuna’s eyelids.
“I haven’t given up on him!” Yuuji declares. Inky sparks shimmer in the air as Yuuji lands another Black Flash on Sukuna’s stomach. “Wake up, Fushiguro!”
Rather than the order it came out sounding like, its really a desperate plea from Yuuji. Yuuji can’t fail Fushiguro too.
“PLEASE!” He roars. He returns to that dark chamber of misery, with Fushiguro on the floor. He looks even more desolate than before.
“Just let me go…” Fushiguro whispers, clutching his bleeding ears. There’s a puddle of tears from where he lifts his face, though he doesn’t bring himself to meet Yuuji’s eyes. “So many…so many have died—“
”And you won’t be one of them!” Yuuji asserts angrily. He grabs Fushiguro’s arm and pulls him out of his crouch. Fushiguro feels sluggish under his grasp. “Yeah everyone is gone, but I’m still here! Don’t leave me alone in this hell! Or do you want Sukuna to get to me too!?”
For the first time in weeks, Yuuji gets to see Fushiguro’s eyes. What was once vibrant green eyes are now dead and dull, partly due to depression and partly because of all the soul damage. Still, those eyes are surprised. Then, he looks away, whatever glimmer of hope faded.
“You’ll survive somehow and live a good life,” Fushiguro mutters, shivering. “But me… I’m so tired of this all. They all died at my hands, Itadori.” He chokes a bitter sob. “Tsumiki, Gojo, everyone else…it would be better if I was dead. That would put an end to this awful suffering...”
“No, Fushiguro,” Yuuji grits forcefully. He doesn’t know how much time is left in this space. “Shut up. If you can’t find a reason to live, live for me, okay!? We’ll find a reason to live somewhere along the way, but for now, I can’t—“
Yuuji’s breath hitches. His voice trembles. “I can’t lose you too, Fushiguro. If I do, I might really break. And I’m…”
I’m scared of what that would look like. I’m scared I would turn into something I hate. If I can’t even save the person in front of me—!
Yuuji’s knees sink to the floor, and he bows his head, holding onto Fushiguro’s arm desperately. “Please,” he whispers. “I need you.”
Fushiguro stays quiet for a moment, and then sits down next to him. “Really?”
This ticks Yuuji off, just a bit. Fushiguro’s seen Yuuji fight Sukuna for Fushiguro's sake, enduring all sorts of torture and witnessing the deaths of his comrades, yet he still questions Yuuji? Still, Yuuji has enough tact to respond gently. “Yes,” he admits.
He glances back at Fushiguro and finds his friend looking several years younger. A kid, maybe around four or five years old. An emotion swishes in the dull eyes of younger-Fushiguro, and he offers a smile. “Okay, then...”
The world is engulfed in a splat of white, then promptly breaks into shards, flinging Yuuji out of the soul space. Yuuji sighs a breath of relief. When he opens his eyes, he's back on the battle field, with merely a second to dodge a flying chunk of concrete.
From that point, it's a free-for-all: Yuuji throws blocks of cement at Sukuna, Sukuna jumps over the blocks and lands a few blows before grabbing Yuuji's ankle. He lifts Yuuji as though would to punt him through the building, but his leg suddenly sinks into a puddle of darkness. Fushiguro...? Yuuji puts his own hands on the ground, kicks his ankle free and somersaults away.
Sukuna glowers at the puddle. "Don't tell me you've decided to awaken now, Fushiguro?" He barks a laugh. "After I've killed everyone?"
”Don’t listen to him, Fushiguro!”
Shadowy hands rise from the puddle of darkness beneath Sukuna and latch onto his arms, binding him down. Yuuji picks up a breaks off a chunk of the building wall and clobbers it into Sukuna's head. Sukuna retorts by knocking his head into Yuuji's chin. Yuuji's vision goes black for a moment, the pain from the blow combined with all the other injuries he's incurred blinding him. No--I can't lose focus at this time! He pushes through the pain and kicks Sukuna through a pillar, then jumping after him.
As they fall through the air, Sukuna's long limbs reach out and grab Yuuji's face with his hands, squeezing down on his head as though to squish it down. The immense pressure is enough to bring back the woozy feeling from earlier. Yuuji hits Sukuna's arms, trying to pry his grip off. With a pop, Yuuji's jaw dislocates. Yuuji could scream. Oh shit, he messed up.
And then, Yuuji experiences a moment of complete luck. All of a sudden, large needles poke through Sukuna's chest, prompting the curse to release his hands and spit a mouth full of blood into the air. Yuuji's eyes widen. Kugisaki's technique!? But how--?
More nails drive into Sukuna's arms and legs, snapping Yuuji out of his surprise. He narrows the distance between them and grabs onto Sukuna, hitting him blow after blow as they tumble down. Sukuna's back crashes onto the concrete with a loud thud. Yuuji stands on top of him.
Cursed energy roars around Yuuji's fists. Both of them can sense it now: this is the end for Sukuna. "This cycle of curses ends here," Yuuji states, and then delivers the final blow: a divergent fist, of all things. One of the first tools in his equipment is now being used to put an end to the man who haunted his journey.
Sukuna hollers at the time-delayed effect and vomits more blood. In that moment, a fleshly amalgamation separates from Fushiguro's body and expands into several fingers, trying to engulf Fushiguro's body in a rapid almost flood-like manner. The flash flood dies out as quickly as it came, and the fingers deflate until there's just one little scab of flesh remaining. Yuuji draws nearer to the flesh, panting heavily into the cold air.
When he looks down at the little remains of Sukuna, stares into the creature of flesh that shares his eyes, he almost feels stupid.
So this is all Sukuna amounted to: a quivering hunk of mass trying to assert its place in the world. Yuuji finds himself even more pitiful: for all that talk of bitter agony and a burning desire for revenge, he can't summon a single ember of that wildfire now. Like the air after a fire's been snuffed out, he feels chillingly barren. Empty. He glances at the scorched ground and demolished buildings of Shinjuku, equally as devoid of life. Mixed feelings of disgust and sorrow and self-hatred rise in his throat. This city, once full of vitality, has now become a graveyard.
"...so much waste," he whispers. Sukuna's been defeated, but did Yuuji really win?
His eyes tighten when he looks back at Sukuna's ravaged figure, panting just as heavily as him. The small mouth on the flesh scowls. "Don't begin... to pity me now...brat."
"Wasn't...hah... planning on it," Yuuji spits out between breaths. His insides are too corroded to bring forth even a semblance of sympathy or compassion. Satisfied with that, the flesh smolders into a faceless chunk, and then burns into the winter sky. Gone in a vapor, yet so much destruction left behind. At the very least Yuuji can confirm two others are alive: Fushiguro, who lies unconscious on the ground, and the source of Nobara's technique, who is probably...
"Okkotsu," he greets the sorcerer running up to them. There's a line of stitches around Okkotsu's head, evidence of the incident earlier where he piloted Gojo's body, and one large scar running through his torso and arms symmetrically. His body must have been stitched up by Shoko, but how is he still alive?
"Sukuna's dead?" Okkotsu asks. At Yuuji's nod, his shoulders slump in relief. "Thank God. This nightmare is finally over."
Yuuji has a shaking sensation that it really isn't. He doubts the world can return back to normal after all that has happened. After all who have been lost. He clears his throat. "You copied Kugisaki's technique?" he asks.
Okkotsu grimaces. "A few days ago. We had a feeling things might go wrong, so I was authorized to feed Rika just a hand from Kugisaki. Nothing overly vital, in case you're worried she'll wake up-"
"Nah, it's okay," Yuuji says, shaking off the sorcerer's worries. "Fushiguro and I knew for a while that...that she was probably dead. I think she would've wanted us to use her technique on Sukuna's last finger, instead of just letting her rot."
Weapons, even in death, he reflects. He can't handle another mentality-shaking reminder, so he just repeats the mantra: We're all cogs. We're all cogs. We're all cogs. We're all--
The desolate landscape stares at him like a boldfaced contradiction. It reminds him of Shibuya, almost.
Todo...what would you say about this?
And with a sad sigh, he realizes, even Todo's gone now.
"About the others..." Okkotsu starts. He bites his lips. "I don't want to make any promises, but Shoko's trying to fix up the lighter injuries now. It might be too late for some since we couldn't get them out in time, but there's hope."
The cold air stings Yuuji's face. Just as stinging is the realization he's become equally cold to that 'hope'. Gojo had said he would survive, and he didn't. Todo had said there was hope for the others, and then he died. Choso...at the very least, he was honest until the end. Yuuji feels cheated all the same.
He tries to distract himself from those thoughts. "I saw you trying to heal the others while I was fighting. Is Maki better?"
Okkotsu nods. "The cut was superficial. Must've been because Sukuna's technique was wearing out."
"Right." Yuuji did notice that Sukuna's attacks were doing less damage as the battle went on, to the point Maki was able to predict and dodge a World Cutting Slash, the same technique that took out Gojo and Okkotsu. Speaking of which... "How are you alive anyway?"
Okkotsu looks away somberly. He twists his ring. "Rika..."
"Oh." Yuuji swallows hard. So she's gone too? "Sorry."
Okkotsu's mouth forms a half-scowl, half-bitter smile. "Thanks."
Yuuji hates to ask this. "Your cursed techniques--?"
"She imprinted them on another shikigami," Okkotsu responded, fortunately taking no offense to the question. He gazes wistfully into the sky. "She really thought of everything."
Well his domain is named Authentic Mutual Love; it's no surprise that Rika loved Okkotsu enough to sacrifice herself.
Yuuji's eyes land on the unconscious Fushiguro, and spontaneously, he decides to join him on the concrete ground. The uneven ground is broken and cold, hardly a good substitute for a bed. The sharp edges of concrete press into Yuuji's back.
He takes off the gauntlets on his hands, freeing his hands from that restrictive pressure. He flexes his fingers, surveying each hand. His vision seems to be getting better, maybe his RCT has finally started back up. His gaze rests on his left hand, which tingles with the phantom pain of two missing fingers: one cut off by Sukuna, another cut off to stop Sukuna. "Sukuna's last finger..."
"With me," Okkotsu dangles the object and takes a seat beside him. "The medical team should be rolling in around now."
"Great." Yuuji mutters. He bites back a scowl, feeling the stings of all the open wounds on his legs and arms. He feels so tired. He and the others spent a whole month preparing for this fight, and now Sukuna and Kenjaku are gone. The merger isn't a possibility anymore. The world was saved from those threats. Yuuji's job is done for today. He should feel fulfilled, but instead, he feels...
So damn tired. He sniffs the air, eyebrows furrowing. Too tired. It's...sort of suspicious. Warning bells go off in slow motion in Yuuji's mind, coinciding with a headache. His eyelids are droopy, his tongue is heavy like lead. "Hey, Okkotsu, isn't this... kind...of...wei..."
He heaves another breath, and then slowly drags his arm to cover his nose. Crap, he thinks, blearily looking at Okkotsu's collapsed body. There's a sedative in the air. Yuuji tries to get up, but his body holds him down like weighty anchors. Forcing himself up is a struggle, and as he gets on his feet, he's overwhelmed by the throbbing achy, almost useless sensation in his limbs. First thing to do: get Okkotsu and Fushiguro out of here. He takes a step forward, and then, feeling a prickling sensation on the back of his neck, turns around just in time to have a gun prodded in his chest.
The soldier's eyes widen. "How the hell--!?" Their voice comes out muffled by the gas mask. Behind him are a squad of men similarly clothed.
Yuuji squints his eyes. Soldiers? Like the guys he, Fushiguro and Hana saved? Why are they here?
They don't look so friendly. This is probably another one of Kenjaku's failsafes he concocted. Either way, it's up to Yuuji to protect Fushiguro and Okkotsu. He puts his hand on the gun, and in one smooth motion, breaks off the tip, throwing it into another soldiers head. Pooling cursed energy into his arms and feet, he tackles the soldier in front of him and uses the soldier's body as a shield while he bulldozes through the squad. He manages to headbutt a few people to the ground when a metal wire latches onto the open wound on his back, and for the next few seconds, all he knows is pain.
"AHHHH!" He screams as the electrical current passes through his body. It's as if his whole body has been lit on fire. His muscles twitch and spasm in burning agony. Blood and acid work its way up through his throat. Then, his limbs lock up and he falls straight on the ground. The impact from hitting the ground knocks him out.
Sluggishly, Yuuji finds himself waking up on an operating bed. The bright light makes him squint; when he re-opens his eyes, bright spots dance across his vision. He immediately feels uncomfortable. There's a clinking of metal instruments, a low rustle of chatter. Some people wearing white face masks, hairnets and gowns. A sharp object prods his skin. "Mph." There's something covering his mouth, preventing him from speaking. His fists are tied down. He tries to get a better view by lifting up his head.
Looking down, all he can see is red. An incision line straight down his chest, cranked open by cold metal arms. His chest falls and rises. Babump. Babump. His heart lies in that red pool of blood exposed to the air. Yuuji can see his heart beating. What the hell, he can see his heart beating. His heart starts beating faster.
One of the surgeons picks up a knife and presses it to Yuuji’s arm. “Mph!” he screeches, banging his fists against the operating table. Someone swears in English.
“He woke up again? Give him a higher dose this time.”
Yuuji’s arms and legs thrash about. “Mph!” Pursing his lips, he uses his upper teeth to bit out part of the tape. He spits out a chunk. “LET ME GO! STOP IT!”
Someone grabs his flailing arm and injects a syringe into it. The effects are fast-acting: Yuuji already feels woozy, his limbs too fatigued to jerk around. “Mph…”
No—! Yuuji forces his mind to stay awake. I can’t fall asleep now!
“It must be the regeneration factor,” a surgeon says. The voice sounds feminine. Yuuji watches helplessly as she cuts a line down his arm with the scalpel. He barely feels the pain. “Observe, friends.”
A few seconds pass. Then, the skin on his arm begins to thread itself back together, fastening a woven net over the incision. Some of the surgeons gasp.
“Fascinating, isn’t it?” The surgeon from earlier continues. “He’s the first one I’ve seen with this quality. I know we’re supposed to be extracting cursed energy, but just imagine how phenomenal this regeneration would be if we could work it into our technology — healing burn scars, regrowing organs, even eradicating cancer!”
She laughs. “I’m so happy the higher-ups put me in charge of this — think of all the possibilities!” Her excited brown eyes meet Yuuji’s half-delirious gaze. She pats his shoulder. “I know you’ve suffered when you were fighting that curse, but just hold on a bit longer. You’re the key to my medical breakthrough.”
“Okkots…Fushi…” Yuuji struggles to talk. The lull of sleep nearly has him in its clutches. “Are they…safe?”
Her smile is sharp and pointed, like her scalpel. He doesn’t stay awake long enough to hear her response.
By some extreme misfortune, it seems he has stumbled out of one hell and into another.