Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It starts with a barb.

“Those sunglasses are so uncool, Gojo-sensei! Your blindfold was way cooler!”

It was meant to be a petty complaint (and a thinly veiled insult, if you read into it), but Satoru gasps in scandal, tipping his sunglasses upwards. “My sunglasses are very cool, thank you very much!”

“No, they’re not!” Nobara insists, almost theatrically. “Who wears sunglasses indoors anyways? And what’s with that t-shirt? You’re killing your entire outfit!”

Behind her, Megumi snorts. It was true, Nobara and Yuuji had never seen Satoru and his...certainly eccentric fashion sense first-hand, only ever spotting him in his Jujutsu High uniform.

But three days ago, on December 4th, Nobara had the bright (stupid) idea to surprise him, buying every single flavour of cake that has ever been discovered, despite Megumi’s protests (secret agreements). And then Yuuji had the idea to make home-made mochi, which eventually led them to today, December 7^th, Satoru’s birthday, the day on which Yuuji and Nobara are graced by the image of Satoru wearing a too expensive button up shirt with two neon colours in polka dots that would make a blind man’s eyes bleed, and something which Satoru had definitely worn as a joke.

But Nobara looks absolutely revolted, but Yuuji was shooting her a confused look, as if he had no idea what was wrong with Satoru’s outfit. It appears there were two fashion blinds in this room.

“And,” Nobara continues with her barrage. “Why the green and pink? And what’s with those pants? Won’t that god-awful shirt go better with colours other than yellow? I suppose that shirt can be salvageable, but even that’s a long shot-”

“Hey!” Satoru admonishes. “This shirt’s Dior!”

“Wait, Dior?” And now all that disgust morphs into utter shock. “Actual Dior? You definitely got ripped off of your money, that shirt isn’t worth a thousand yen!”

As if to prove a point, Nobara marches to Yuuji, pointing at Satoru’s shirt in affront. “Yuuji! Tell me what you think of sensei’s shirt!”

“Ehm...” Yuuji stares at the shirt, then at Nobara, and then again at the shirt. “It’s...actually not that bad?” Nobara looks at him as if she was contemplating ripping off his tongue. Realising his tongue touched a thousand year old finger was enough for her to reconsider. So instead, for support, she turns to Megumi, waving her forearm back and forth before the father and the adoptive son. “Megumi! Help me out here! You can see that abomination called an outfit, can’t you?

“Don’t drag me into your nonsense.” Megumi deadpans.

Nobara buries her face into her hands. Satoru lets out a victorious laugh as he flings an arm over Megumi’s shoulder. “See, Nobara! Majority wins!”

Nobara only sighs in disappointment, before an idea strikes her. “Okay, new plan!” she claps her hands together before poking Yuuji’s cheek. “Oi, Sukuna! You there?”

Yuuji visibly grimaces, not at her poke, but at her words, which...Yuuji doesn’t grimace. Nobara’s eyebrows shoot up in slight puzzlement, but that isn’t enough to make her stop.

A carmine iris shoots open, looking around in something akin to annoyance, but before either of them could get a word in, Nobara promptly stabs Sukuna in the eye with her freshly manicured index finger. Sukuna let out a yelp- wow, even the strongest curse can’t handle an eye poke- before disappearing and appearing again on the back of Yuuji’s hand. “Get that cheap manicure away from me.”

Nobara huffs, decidedly disregarding the fact that she’s talking with Yuuji’s ex-murderer and reviver, only focusing on his words. “Wow, rude. I’m a student, I’m supposed to be broke. And anyway, I don’t catch you with any manicure.”

“What?” Sukuna stared at her in disbelief. “I do.”

“Yeah, well, you’re in Yuuji’s body, and he doesn’t wear any manicure,” Nobara points out. “But we’re getting off topic. Sukuna, what do you think of Gojo-sensei’s shirt?”

Sukuna blinks, finally taking note of the other presence in the room, gazing boredly raking over Satoru, up and down, again and again, as if he was contemplating the best way to insult him while also being constructively critical. Then he realises being mean to Satoru Gojo was literally his second life goal, and scoffs.

“Absolutely hideous.”

“...”

“Hah! See, Gojo-sensei? Even Sukuna thinks you’re not cool!”

“You too, Sukuna?” Satoru whines, as though Sukuna was not plotting his ultimate demise by his hands right now. Sukuna had seen his fair share of craziness in the Heian Era, but it all pales in comparision to the utter insanity (or rather, stupidity) of the strongest sorcerer of this generation. And that included Yorozu.

But more insane was the fact that this annoying chick woke him up from his nap, just to ask his opinion on clothing. Sorcerers these days have neither fear nor preservation instincts. Still, he won’t let his annoyance get in the way of hate speech on Satoru’s fashion choices.

“Green, pink, and yellow. The three colours that don’t go well together, and you’ve somehow made it even worse.” Sukuna continues, brushing off Yuuji’s annoyed glare. “Might’ve worked well if you didn’t look like an overdressed Afghan Hound.”

“So you’re calling me elegant, intelligent and dignified? You flatter me, Sukuna.”

“No, I’m calling you temperamental.”

“Hey, that’s a compliment!”

“It really shouldn’t be.”

Before Satoru could shoot out a reply, Megumi cut in, his eyes tired, voice heavy with exhaustion. “Can we just get on with this party already?”

And just like that, the atmosphere is ruined, and Sukuna buries himself into the recesses of his mind.

---

Sukuna does not see much of Nobara after Gojo’s birthday.

Not that he’s actively seeking out conversations with her, of course, that would be absurd. No, he’s just simply baffled how she could ask the King of Curses’ opinion on their sensei’s revolting, grotesque clothing as if he’s just hanging around listless (which, he will admit, he is, a little, not when his brat refuses to let him go on a rampage- tch, kids nowadays have no idea about ‘fun’), and then never bothers to talk to him again.

Until today.

The thing is, Itadori Yuuji is a brat, thoroughly annoying and utterly provoking, smiles in the face of adversity when he should just break. Fushiguro Megumi’s dead from the inside, boring and unexciting, though Sukuna will admit that in their little group he is the only one whose words have any substance, but that does not excuse his dull nature, not at all; the only reason Sukuna’s still interested is his potential as the wielder of the Ten Shadows.

And then there’s Kugisaki Nobara. Brash, quick tempered, a little infuriating though not to the extent of his brat, but most importantly, having actual fashion sense.

For months, Sukuna has been threatening the brat with death unless he sort out his wardrobe. But no. It seems that the brat has learnt to tune him out. Which- first of all, how dare he? Sukuna possesses the power to end his entire bloodline with the flick of a hand (not that he has any other member in that lineage except himself- Sukuna likes to remind him of this fact at 3. A.M. in his domain, the brat throws a skull at him), and he dares try to ignore him? I will paint the skulls of my domain with your ensanguined entrails, boy- or would you prefer your friends? You can’t save them, brat. Nevertheless, he has to hand it to him, not many can resist talking back.

Perhaps he’ll save Kugisaki for later. At least she’ll be fun to break. Maybe he’ll keep her around with the brat after he kills Gojo Satoru. He’s heard non-shamans say mental trauma surpasses all physical. He thinks he agrees (no, he knows it from experience), after all, the only thing that can compare to the joy of fight is torturing his vessel with his words-

“Sukuna, shut up!” Yuuji groans, bonking his head with his fist.

Ah, right. He and the brat share the same soul, which means he can hear every thought going on in Sukuna’s head, and vice-versa (Not that Sukuna’s ever heard his thoughts, he wonders if it is because he hides them well, which is impossible- or his head is just empty).

Sukuna feels him punch his head again. Tch. He’s only hitting himself, not that Sukuna doesn’t relish in that fact. His eye opens under Yuuji’s cheekbones, looking around. It’s a...what, exactly? Is this one of those malls Kugisaki Nobara keeps dragging him to? Yes, probably, given the clothes hanging off the racks.

There’s non sorcerers, too many of them, and how Sukuna craves to let loose, to leave destruction in his wake, were it not for the brat containing him, he’d have burned this place to cinders-

“Why do you keep monologuing? You’re not cool, Sukuna.”

It’s not a monologue, it’s a soliloquy, at least until Yuuji stopped ignoring him, but that was besides the point. He doesn’t expect this uncultured swine to know about even the most basic of poetry, much less theatre.

“Sukuna!” he hears a loud voice, distantly approaching. The chick with the hammer, the bane-in-command of his existence. His gaze drifts to her, or rather, the two pieces of clothing in her hands.

“Which one’s better?” she held up the two fabrics to his eye as he reappears on Yuuji’s palm, refusing to have a piece of clothing shoved in his face a second time.

Sukuna regards the two critically. The first is a dark navy blue, bordering on black...top? with a floral design- roses, very fitting, considering her name- but full sleeves? That fabric doesn’t look like cotton either. It’s the middle of the summers, does she want to get drenched in her own sweat while exorcising curses? Still looks chic, though, so whatever.

The second is, in effect, the exact opposite, something he can envision a common eight year old in this era (in his time, even children were dressed elegantly, unless you belonged to the lower rung of society- in which case you’d probably already be dead owing to the horrible conditions in which you were raised- Sukuna of course was an exception to this rule) wearing. It’s a brightly coloured t-shirt with an imperfect heart shape imprinted on it, the word ‘vibrant’ written under it in all caps and in pink glitter. Sukuna inwardly cringes, though, unfathomably, why does he think that it actually looks good? Nevertheless, he lets out a short snort as he provides his very constructive criticism.

“You’re asking for my opinion? Go on, wear that second one. It might help people think that you’re intentionally trying to be ridiculous.”

Nobara huffs as she pokes Sukuna in the eye again (the nerve of this girl-), bringing the two garments upon her frame, testing them in the mirror. “So, the first one? I thought that, but doesn’t the second one look cute too?”

No, it does not look cute. It looks unsightly. Mostly.

A little.

Actually...

“This is absurd,” Sukuna declares. “My word is law. If I say the first looks better, then there is no argument,”

“There are a lot of arguments,” Nobara points out irritatedly, throwing the two dresses onto the rack. “First of all, I forgot to ask you during Sensei’s birthday, how do you even know anything about modern fashion? You’re like- a thousand years old,”

“And yet more knowledgeable about it than this imbecile who calls himself my vessel,” Sukuna scoffs, trying to take control of the brat again. Obviously Yuuji does not comply, and if Sukuna didn’t know any better, he would think his brat was specifically designed to be able to suppress him. “And to answer your question- I am well aware of today’s culture, having been incarnated four months ago, enough time to observe and adapt. Don’t dare think any lesser of me.”

“I wasn’t,” she says sarcastically. “But if you had a better eye, you would’ve caught the sequins lining the collar of the first dress, which is way too uncomfortable,”

“There are other reasons why that dress would be uncomfortable, the sequins are the least of your worries, you absolute moron,” Sukuna sneers. “I was under the impression that people in this timeline were ready to compromise comfort for fashion, but I suppose I misjudged,”

“Oh, the King of Curses is admitting to being wrong?” Nobara mocks. “Monumental.”

“I owe up to my mistakes, unlike my vessel here, whose very existence is an affront.” he retorts instantly. “Though now that we are at this point, I suppose I should ask. What function exactly are you planning to wear these dresses to?”

“Oh, these? Just for casual wear.”

...

...Ah. So not only is she stupid, she’s a masochist too.

“Are you serious? As in, you’re contemplating it?”

“What?”

“You’re planning to, what, wear that on a normal day, strolling about the park? Please,” She can’t honestly be this dumb, and Sukuna’s choices are now flipped after hearing that little fact, that Nobara didn’t bother to mention until he asked her first- “I thought you wanted to wear it for a party or something, something that would actually justify that outfit. But no. Your normal day, might I remind you, constitutes of getting soaked in the blood of wretched monsters born from negative energy. And wearing that first one is effectively giving the curses an advantage due to how hard it would be to move around in it. ”

He let out a small laugh at the look Nobara was giving him and continued, fuelled by the sheer entertainment this interaction was providing. “At that point, might as well surrender and get yourself eaten, because you certainly aren’t powerful or quick enough to defend yourself against actual jujutsu. Shall I remind you of the incident from three months ago? The three of you failed to escape even an incomplete domain. I want to see your faces when you encounter real curses, real jujutsu, and not these pathetic spirits you keep encountering. Brat, curses don’t care if you’re looking badass or cool or whatever you modern kids prioritise nowadays. Restriction of movement is restriction of speed, and restriction of speed is death.”

“But it’s useless,” he continues, grinning sadistically. “Because you will break at my hands anyway. And trust me, it will be way worse than those curses.”

Sukuna would speak on (read: ramble incessantly), but Nobara, ever the interrupter, does what she knows best, and pokes Sukuna in the eye a third time. “Don't you never get tired of hearing your own voice? It’s honestly kinda insane.”

...

Change of plans. He shall not keep her around with the brat for mental torture. Nobara Kugisaki will be the first person he kills when he takes control. He can not let this impertinence slide.

And Nobara, like the undeterred menace she was, strides off without any explanation, the second t-shirt hanging at her arm (hideous and the blood stains will be visible, but at least she won’t die), murmuring something about how Sukuna ‘actually had good advice’ and ‘it was better than Yuuji anyway’ (the obvious truth).

At least she acknowledged that.

---

Sukuna could have easily gone another month without speaking to Nobara again and would not have been bothered in the slightest, and yet.

Well. Fate often does not go his way, and today is no exception.

Five minutes into his nap, he’s called for again.

He tries to ignore the sound at first, despite the tremble in his domain (How? How is her voice enough to quake his domain? His domain?) and the reverberating echoes through. He shuts his eyes, albeit uselessly, because the noise was just so damn loud and why does this damn brat not know the definition of silence-

Ah, now that he thinks about it, that’s...a little hypocritical.

(Maybe a lot.)

Still, he refuses to give her that satisfaction (is that what Yuuji tries with him?) of getting under his skin. He shuts his eyes. Covers his ears. Takes a few short breaths. Long breaths. Medium breaths.

It remains constant.

It’s too loud, and Sukuna’s ears areringing. It’s not the first time this has occurred in this modern era, nor will it be the last, but it’s particularly unbearable this time. Centuries of silence, soul trapped in twenty fingers scattered across Japan does that to you.

(The sound is only unbearable because he’s never heard someone call out to him in that unapologetic, perfectly insolent tone, and he’s not sure if it’s intolerable because it’s truly annoying or just unfamiliar, and honestly he would rather not find out.)

“What?” Sukuna opens his carmine eye, slightly wary if not downright vexed at the sight of her cheap manicure. “Why must you bother me again and again? Have I not given my opinion on your stupid clothes?”

“Mhm,” Nobara shrugs, taking a small bite out of her cone, wait- they’re somewhere else already? “Try your ice-cream.”

“What the hell?”

“What, I’m serious!” she insists, gesturing at the cup in front of him. “Itadori says it’s good, but I need some actual opinions for next time, y’know? I mean, he swallowed a thousand-year-old mummified finger.”

Hah. She’d probably collapse if she heard Sukuna’s dietary habits in the Heian Era. Yuuji, on the other hand, wisely, does not try to defend himself. That would result in one sole conclusion- relentless mockery from both parties.

“Girl,” he snarls. “How do you suppose I can take a bite myself? As it currently stands, I do not possess the ability to control the brat.”

Nobara blinks, as if the thought hadn’t crossed her mind, and then scoffs. “Who said there would no assistance?”

She then proceeds to stab the ice-cream with a clean spoon (thank the spirits- he wouldn’t trust the brat to use one at all), taking out a frankly enormous portion of ice-cream, and then callously shoves the plastic spoon into the mouth manifested under his eye.

“What the fu-”

“Oi, don’t swear too loudly, there’s people here!” she admonishes, shoving the spoon back into cup. “Just tell me what you think.”

Sukuna huffs as he gives in, savouring the taste. It’s artificial blueberry, too sweet to be debated as natural, somehow very, very good, and Sukuna’s going to get diabetes from this alone.

“This is...how do you eat this?” he questions, even as he continues savouring the sweetness, the saccharine flavours dancing upon his tongue. Hell, human meat does not come close. He’d say it’s comparable to Kakigori, except it’s not really comparable at all, because it’s not just shaved ice and syrup, but actual ice-cream, and somehow it is widely available now? Sukuna continues to be amazed.

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“I have a counter question.”

“I asked first.”

“Well, I have more importance, hence I am not liable to give you an answer, unless you respond first.” he scoffs. “Tell me, how is this prepared?”

“Hell if I know. We didn’t have ice-cream parlours close to where I lived before, and no one ever taught me. They didn’t bother to teach me anything, really.”

“Unfortunate.”

“I know, right? I mean, I came to Tokyo, and understood what I’ve been missing all along. It’s great here, no one ever belittles you for meaningless stuff like liking western clothes or-”

“I’m not interested in your upbringing,” he interrupts. “I’m interested in this dessert.”

“...Right. Sorry,” she does look ever so slightly disappointed, but Sukuna does not remember signing up to care. “The dessert, right. It’s ice-cream.”

“I know what it is. I wish to know how it is made.”

“I already told you-”

“That you did not know, yes,” Sukuna sighs in displeasure. “I suppose I should help Uraume to some after I regain my own body. They’ll figure it out, as they always have.”

“Uraume?” Nobara asks curiously. “Who’s that?”

“No one of importance,” he shot back immediately, before reluctantly adding. “To you, at least.”

“So...of importance to you?” she presses on.

“Don’t be foolish.”

“You didn’t deny it.”

“Must you take all my words literally?”

“You’re still not denying it.”

Sukuna takes a long breath. It does not help. “Fine. No, they are of no importance to me, aside from their role as my cook and retainer.”

A white lie, but she doesn’t need to know that.

“Huh. That sounds like a lie.”

Why, you little-

“Fine! It is a lie. Are you satisfied now?”

Nobara’s lips quirk upwards. “So the great and might King of Curses, the unfeeling Ryoumen Sukuna-”

“Please shut up.” His face scrunches up in disgust at his own words. He even added ‘please’ at the front. He never knew he could stoop this low, yet here they were.

“-admits to caring about someone!”

Deep breaths. Deep breaths, actually, screw it, burn it all to hell. “Nobara Kugisaki, how would you feel if I forcefully take control of the brat only to strangle you and sever your limbs from your body?”

“Ew, we’re in a public spot. There’ll be blood everywhere.” her answers are infuriatingly nonchalant. “Besides, that would ruin my top!”

“And yet your choices in clothing would be most easily stained by curse blood-”

“You’re the one who told me to buy the brightly coloured one!” she jabs an accusing finger at him.

“It’s better than dying-”

“So you don’t want me to die?”

She’s twisting his words. Very well. “Yes, for the time being.”

“Really? That’s so-”

“I wish to kill you myself.”

...

“...And here I was thinking you’re changing.” she leans back in her chair, munching down on her cone wafer. “But hey, you know what? You’re right, this ice cream really is amazing.”

“As artificial as it is, yes.”

“Wait, it’s artificial?” she seems genuinely confused. “They said it was natural!”

“You can’t even tell?” he mocks. “This generation truly is hopeless. In my time, we never had to worry about artificiality. And in my time, if a cocky little girl didn’t answer my question about how a delicacy is made, she would-”

“Oh my god, you’re so annoying!” she whines. “I mean, you have good taste in clothing, and in ice-cream, but still. You’re almost as annoying as my mum. And my granny. But in a different way, if you know what I mean.”

There’s something odd in the way she says that last sentence, something soft, something bittersweet, and had Sukuna not been good at reading people, he would have missed it. Though she cannot see it, he raises an eyebrow, before falling back into his usual demeanor.

“I truly wish to meet the woman who birthed you.” he says after a pause. “I must commend her for raising you, very few have the courage to speak back to me. Though perhaps she will know how to silence you? Yes, I must meet her.”

Nobara snorts, choking on the last bit of her ice-cream. “You want to meet her? Please, I’ve barely met her.”

Sukuna tilts his head inside his domain. “Aren’t you her daughter? Is this one of those overdone troubled past tropes?”

She laughs, almost mirthlessly, and wow, the atmosphere of the room (food court?) has really shifted. “Nah, it wasn’t troubled by any means. I still had Saori-chan and Fumi, y’know? And it isn’t nearly as bad as Fushiguro, I mean, I had a proper place to stay and stuff, and the village people, well, they weren’t the nicest, but they were fine, I guess.”

“ ‘Not nearly as bad as Fushiguro’.” he repeats. Some undermining your own circumstances. He’s surprised that someone like him knows more about this stuff than emotionally-stable-Kugisaki Nobara (which in itself is an oxymoron, considering no sorcerer can be emotionally stable, but still). Despite that, her words were convincing. Is she truly that iron-willed?

“Tell me more about this mother of yours.”

She stares at him as if hell has froze over. “You said you weren’t interested in my upbringing.”

“I’m interested now,” he asserts, and quickly adds. “And don’t believe this is for some sentimental nonsense. That has no basis. It is simply curiosity, that is all.”

“...Right,” she does not believe him, and Sukuna would have pointed that out had she not continued immediately. “So, my mum is-” she waves her hand around in a vague gesture. “-god knows where- and my granny- she’s was a sorcerer too, by the way- is also somewhere else-”

“So who raised you?”

“I’m getting to that,” she raises her hand in a placating gesture, Sukuna is not, in fact, placated, he’s just more impatient now. “Anyway, my village, it’s in the countryside, raised me- well, raised is a strong word, they just fed me and stuff-”

“I thought humans had evolved since the Heian Era?”

“Yeah, well, some people just,” she shrugs. “Don’t. Some people are stupid anyway.”

“I can’t believe I’m agreeing with you.”

“So yeah, my village shunned one of my friends away for being ‘modern’ or something, to go back to Tokyo from where she came, her name was Saori-chan, and no, you can’t threaten to murder her because there are thousands of Saori-chan’s in Tokyo-”

“I’ll just murder all of them, then.”

“Yeah, but do me a favour and kill the villagers first.”

“What makes you think I will heed your words, you foolish brat?”

“Eh, it was worth a shot.”

“No, it was not. That just pushes me further. You have regaled me with information about your precious ‘Saori-chan’ as though she’s some sort of martyr for being shunned out of her village. You forget the fact that your damned villagers are still alive. Had your Saori truly been strong, she would have silenced them in an instant.”

“Martyrs can’t silence anyone. They’re dead.”

“But she isn’t a martyr. My statement implied that. Do you, by chance, have low linguistic intelligence?”

She cracks a grin at that. “And do you, oh great-and-mighty King of Curses?”

“Of course I do. In fact, the language arts have been of interest to me since before Jujutsu.”

“Really? That’s...” she pauses, taken aback. “Oddly fascinating. I mean, you didn’t peg me for the scholar type.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

She sticks out a tongue. “I guess we’re even in that.”

Sukuna lets out an amused laugh. “Is that so? Let’s recount. I know about your past, your pedigree, your previous area of residence, your age, your relationship with your mother, and your friends, both old and new. What do you know about me, aside from the number of years ago I was born”

“Hey, I know about Uraume.” she huffs. “And besides, you don’t know about my relationship with my mum. It’s more complicated than you’re thinking.”

Complicated, huh? That’s certainly riveting. Nobara does not seem like the type to keep a ‘complicated’ relationship with someone, least of all the mother who abandoned her. She seems very much like a break-all-ties type character.

“So, it’s unresolved?”

“Yes.”

“And where’s your father, assuming he isn’t the absent dad?”

“He is the absent dad.”

“Classic.”

“I’m guessing you have a reason for having this much interest in my family history.”

“Oh, absolutely. Did I not tell you? I wish to meet your mother.”

Nobara raised her eyebrows. “I thought that was a joke.”

“Yes, it was a joke, at least initially,” his gaze turned distant, mind scheming. “But I have a plan in mind.”

Nobara is very much the unshakeable, feisty girl she is known for being. Moreover, given that her grandmother is also a sorcerer, it’s possible that she has an inherited technique. It might be exciting, testing her out as a vessel if Megumi proves unsatisfactory. Though getting her to drop her guard and lose her spirit will be harder. However, if he somehow manages to get in contact with Nobara’s mother, and, if it is feasible, kill her, it will destroy her. After all, he senses the mother-daughter relationship has some unsettled tension lingering. Exploiting it will be easy, she has already laid down her cards in front of him.

But if it turns out that her mother is merely an unbidden side effect of her life, her ‘Saori-chan’ should do the trick.

But how will he contact her if he doesn’t even have a controllable vessel?

Then it strikes.

“Brat.” Sukuna calls out to Yuuji, already asleep halfway through Nobara and Sukuna’s conversation, even as Nobara stares, utterly confused. “Wake up, brat. We’re leaving.”

Yuuji’s eyes flutter open, sleep clouding his senses still, but he is able to make out his words. “Huh? Why?”

“Our conversation is done here.” he ignores Yuuji, addressing Nobara. “You have wasted enough time as it is. I have more important things to do than babble with you.”

Then, as though the conversation with Nobara never happened, Sukuna retreats into Yuuji’s mind, completely silent to the outside world, yet raging in Yuuji’s mind all the same.

---

Yuuji has been quietly watching the T.V. for an hour. Normally, Sukuna would use this time to rest, but today, he had other things on his mind, not accounting for the fact that the brat has been silent all this while.

“Get off the couch and find a person named Saori, brat.”

“Brat, I want you to locate anyone with the surname Kugisaki. It seems uncommon, so it shouldn’t take much time.”

“Your phone is right there! Can you truly not heed instructions?”

Ten minutes later, Yuuji realises his silence is not worth it.

“Why do you want to find Kugisaki’s mum anyway? You’ve been ranting about it for the past hour! Do you want to kill her too? Do you want to kill Saori-chan too?”

The brat truly knows him well.

“No, brat.” he lies. “It is simply curiosity. Seeing that you have no parents and Megumi Fushiguro is under the guardianship of the Six Eyes wielder. And before you say anything, the Six Eyes does not qualify as a parent.”

“...Right.”

Chapter Text

Yuuji Itadori does not understand Sukuna.

Yes, despite everything, despite both of them having access to (most of) each other's thoughts, despite sharing the same body and the same mind and, in effect, the same *everything*, he still cannot get behind his motivations.If he did, maybe he would be able to make sense of why Sukuna was so insistent over finding her estranged mother and her long lost friend from the countryside.

He says he's not going to kill him, but, honestly speaking, he doesn't believe him one bit.

After all, Sukuna never does anything from the kindness of his heart. Hell, Yuuji doesn't think he has any kindness left in his heart.(He tried to believe otherwise, but the incident with Junpei just proved it.)

"Brat."

Ah, there his voice is again. For how creative he is when mocking Yuuji, the only ones that really register in his mind as yes, Sukuna is talking to me are 'brat' and 'boy', and, occasionally, 'this useless, incompetent, utterly worthless vessel of mine'. Through late night one-sided dialogue he has come to accept the fact that Sukuna will take any opportunity to belittle and ridicule him in the form of a variety of insults, including but not limited to death threats, backhanded comments, and name calling. As such, when Sukuna uses any other terms to refer to him, Yuuji can safely assume that Sukuna is just bickering and zone out.

But this is not one of those times, and Yuuji sighs, bringing his hand to his hair, the laptop screen in front of him. "This isn't going to work, Sukuna. I mean, again, like Nobara said, there are thousands of Saori-chan's in Tokyo-”

“And we will not be able to establish contact with a single one unless you get back to searching!” Sukuna snaps right back. “And trust me when I say this, brat, if we are not going to find that specific Saori-chan, all the Saori-chan’s in Japan will die. Do you hear me, brat?”

“Again with the death threats.” he groans, rubbing his eyes. It’s two in the morning, tomorrow is a school day, and here he is, scrolling through Instagram profiles of dozens upon dozens of Saori-chans on his laptop, praying to whatever Gods are above that Sukuna lets this go. Not that he knows what the relevant Saori-chan even looks like, which makes this entire hunt hopeless without Nobara.

“I can hear your thoughts, boy, you aren’t hiding them very well,” he sighed in something between exasperation and anger. “We can’t reveal that we are actually going to find her long-lost friend and her mother. She thinks it is a joke. It must come as a shock to her. Otherwise it has no purpose at all.”

“Yeah, well, you won’t find the Saori-chan without her, either,” Yuuji shot back. “And on the other hand, we have like- no info on her mum! We don’t even know if she’s in Tokyo or not!”

“I’m coming to that, brat,” Sukuna shifts from his neck and relocates to his cheek. “Fishing for information regarding her Saori-chan will be easy. After all, they parted on good terms. I’m sure Kugisaki Nobara will spill the tea if I push her. Her mother will be more challenging, but in case she doesn’t cooperate, I have other plans.”

Yuuji has no idea how he’s going to get the information about Saori-chan whilst keeping her in the dark. But more importantly, other plans? Other plans?

“Sukuna, if you try to hurt Saori-chan-” Yuuji starts, mind already replaying when Megumi-

“Stop, brat.” His voice sounds unimpressed. “My ‘plans’, at least for the time being, do not involve hurting her. That would be counterproductive.”

Yuuji tries to level his breathing, his fingers tapping against the laptop. Still, when he speaks again, his voice is considerably calmer. “For ‘the time being’?”

“Yes, of course. Isn’t that how I operate?”

“No, that’s not how you operate at all. You kill first, think later.”

Sukuna goes quiet. Yuuji almost thinks his comeback silenced him, but when he hears his voice again, it’s his uncontrolled laughter echoing through the dorm room. It’s all mirth, as if that was the most hilarious thing he has heard in his lifetime, and his voice still sounds amused when he stops and speaks up. “Well, that is one of them, yes.”

Which makes no sense, because Yuuji has not seen a single instance of Sukuna operating in any way other than that.

“...Right.”

“...Right what?”

“Huh? Just...right.”

“Is that all your pea-sized brain can come up with? Don’t you have any other responses?”

“Umm, no.”

Sukuna sighs, as though he shouldn’t have expected anything else. “Why do I even bother?”

An uncomfortable silence.

Then, if only to break the tension, Yuuji says- “Hey, Nobara told me you had a good fashion sense-”

“Only because everyone else is incompetent at it,” Sukuna huffs, though his tone reveals that he thinks otherwise (probably believes he’s one of the pioneers of fashion, among the likes of Coco Chanel and such.)

“Uh-huh. So I was wondering, my wardrobe’s kind of a mess-”

“Utterly and completely,” Sukuna agrees before Yuuji can even finish.

“...Right. So, y’know, I was wondering if you could help me sort it out, buy better clothes or something-”

“Absolutely not.”

Yuuji’s eyes widen, though he hadn’t expected any other outcomes. “Why?” he whines. “Nobara’s going to make fun of me again.”

“Brat, the taunts you will hear from the girl will sound like ice-cream when I decide to step in.”

“...Sound like ice-cream?”

“Yes.”

“That metaphor makes no sense!”

“Simile.” he corrects.

“Yeah, simile or whatever,” Yuuji waves a hand dismissingly “Still. How can you hear ice-cream?”

Sukuna hums before responding. “Synaesthesia exists, brat. And such licenses are used in poetry often. It’s not hard to grasp.”

“Um, what’s sin-es-thi-shia?”

Sukuna sighs in disappointment yet again. “Synaesthesia. What do they even teach you kids nowadays? I can only hope the Six Eyes puts more focus on your education, or you’ll end up uncultured and naive of the way the Jujutsu world works.”

“Hey, what do Jujutsu and education have to do with each other at all?!”

“You cannot appreciate one without the other, brat.”

“That’s not even true! I mean, Fushiguro and Kugisaki and Gojo-sensei’s techniques don’t rely on stuff like language arts or maths at all.”

Sukuna snorts as if addressing a child. “Those are the very words I would expect of you, brat. But I know better. Do you have the slightest idea how the Limitless works? You have seen it in action. If you had paid a little attention, you could have gained a general understanding.”

“Well, I’m not the one from a thousand years ago with insane knowledge of sorcery-”

“Yes, I’m aware, you need not state the obvious.” his displeasure is evident through his tone, but he seems almost excited as he continues. “Very well, I’ll indulge you. Gojo Satoru’s cursed technique is the limitless. Paired with the Six Eyes, his immense cursed energy reserves are a given-”

Yuuji zoned out the first ten words in, and fell asleep within the next twenty.

When he woke up, it was to an exceedingly loud knock on his door. He pressed the start button on his phone. 3:18 A.M. Dead night. Who in the world-?

He shifted the latch, the door flung open, and a pastel coloured paper bag fell into his hands.

“Before you say anything,” the figure in front of him, brown hair and brown eyes, loose t-shirt, wait, was that Kugisaki?, said, the voice the same as a student who’s worked 3 days straight with zero breaks to complete an assignment meant for the entire year. The paper bag pressed against his palms.

“Gojo sensei returned from a mission in Kyoto, brought souvenirs and mochi, woke Megumi up, sent him to send me the mochi, and now Megumi has sent me to send you the mochi. And Gojo-sensei said he couldn’t deliver them himself because he’s ‘tired’ and ‘won’t you do something for your dear sensei Megumi-chan’ and Megumi was already sleep deprived, he collapsed halfway back to his dorm and I had to drag him there. So now I’m here.”

Yuuji stared, vision still blurry, the words not registering in his brain. “Megumi came back from Tokyo and sent you to send Gojo-sensei the mochi and Gojo-sensei collapsed?”

In his head, Sukuna groaned. “So you’re not a good listener either.”

But Nobara didn’t bother to correct him, and instead forced her way into the room. “My dorm’s on the other side, and I’m too tired to walk back. Mind if I crash here for the night?”

“Nah, I need a break from Sukuna anyway. I’ll take the couch later.”

Nobara accepts the favour. “Thanks.”

One look around, her face scrunches in barely suppressed disgust. “Yeah, okay, I retract my thanks. All your clothes are scattered, and, you still have that poster? I thought you’d throw it out after Ozawa, you know.”

“Finally someone says it,”

“I just kind of...forgot,” Yuuji chuckles, purposely ignoring Sukuna, scratching his head. “Things have been kinda hectic.”

Nobara shrugs in response as she plops down on the ergonomic chair, the mesh compressing under her weight. “Megumi would say that we had an entire day off with mall shopping and lunch outside. But I say Megumi is stupid. Weekends for sorcerers should be four days, minimum. Two days off feels like one day off, and one day off feels like no day off. And Sundays suck, because half the day you’re dreading Monday.”

Yuuji nods along vigorously. “Right?! And even three days off is too less because Sukuna spends two days just wishing death upon my entire family.”

“You’re underselling me. I wished death upon your friends and teachers too.”

“Does that include me?” Nobara raised an eyebrow.

“Yes.” Sukuna deadpans.

“Oh, cool,”

“Just cool?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re ‘cool’ with dying.”

Nobara doesn’t even spare the little eye a glance as she pulls her phone out of her pocket unlocking it . “Nah, you’re not understanding. One, your death threats aren’t scary. I trust Itadori won’t let you, even after that whole detention centre incident. And secondly-”

She takes a pause, scrolling through her feed, and Sukuna gets the vague feeling she’s going to launch into a rant. “All sorcerers die someday, says Gojo-sensei. But everyone dies someday, unless science pulls out some insane research. And Gojo-sensei’s alive, and chances are he’ll be alive for much longer. Tengen has been alive since before you. Shoko-san is alive. I don’t know. There’s plenty of alive sorcerers. And with good reason, too. If you’re that strong, who can kill you?”

“...”

That’s-

If you’re that strong, who can kill you?

Her words click into place.

“And I’m going to be strong like that,” she continues, no uncertainty present in that infuriating voice of hers. “So that you can’t kill me. Or anyone for that matter. You’re not exclusive.”

Sukuna lets out the barest laugh, hiding the fact that oh spirits, someone in this damned era actually has the same mindset as him. Er, minus the war crimes. “I thought Megumi was the only one with a brain in this building.”

“Your perception of everyone is seriously flawed.”

He’s not going to correct that because he knows she’s right because he’s not going to spend another hour arguing with a child.

“Anyway, I’m tired of philosophical debates with a genocide enthusiast.I’m heading to sleep,” She stands up and stretches, before catching a glance of the screen, turning. “Oh? Itadori, you have your laptop on-”

Her face turns confused as she sees the search results on the website.

“Why’re you looking for people named Saori on Insta?” she says slowly, heading turning almost emphatically, pointing to the screen. “Is that the name of your crush or something-”

“No!”

Yuuji slams the laptop shut as he scrambles to explain. “Um, no, you’ve already met Ozawa, so no, that’s not, it’s not-”

“Then what should I think of this?” She crosses her arms. “I mean, it’s alright if you don’t want to share, but man, I really thought you’d tell me.”

“I said it’s not that!” Yuuji panics, but from his tone, it’s evident he’s hiding something. Nobara raises an eyebrow. Sukuna facepalms inside his domain. The gesture is lost on everyone.

“So?” she asks. Sukuna senses the moment she realises.

“Wait, don’t tell me Sukuna was being serious.”

Her eyes widen comically, her jaw hanging. “Tell me it’s not.”

Yuuji’s face says it all.

“There’s no way. No-what? There’s no way he’s actually doing this. There’s no way.” She shakes her head. “Itadori? He’s dragging you into this? I- what?”

She lets out a disbelieving laugh. “Itadori? You’re going along with this?”

Yuuji stay silent, face embarrassed, hands shoved into his pockets. Nobara understands.

So that’s one part of his plans failed. Nobara can probably deduce that he’s serious about finding her mother, too.

There’s no point in salvaging it anymore. Might as well reveal the basic tenets.

“Yes, I am, in fact, dragging him into this,” Sukuna says, no hesitation whatsoever. “And I will continue to drag him into my schemes until my goals are achieved. ”

Nobara shakes her head again, cliche. “You’ll never find her. Not Saori-chan, and definitely not my mum, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Sukuna hums. “Did you try?”

“Yes!” she insists. “I have. But she’s untraceable! She has no social media presence, and when I hear from granny, she has no idea either. And she’s not called me! Not once! Even my dad’s called me. My dad-”

She stops herself before she can complete her sentence, forcing herself to breathe. “I- look, I have no idea where you’re going with this, or why you want to find my mum, or Saori-chan, for that matter. Hell, I could care less if you want to go, I don’t know, murder my mum or something. But you can’t! Because you can’t even find her! I can’t find her! And you’re perpetually stuck in the body of a fifteen-year-old!”

“This isn’t going to work. You’re just wasting your time.”

A tense silence falls over the room. Then- “Are you done yet?”

“What?”

“I asked,” Sukuna took a light breath. “If you were done yet. For someone who accused me of talking too much, you’re quite the chatterbox. It makes me wonder whether you never get tired of hearing your own voice.”

“Don’t throw my own words back at me-”

“Oh, I will,” his lips split into a grin. “I get it now. You’re also the sort of person to speak for speaking’s sake. You’ve repeated the same thing about the supposed ‘impossibility of finding your useless mother’ at least four times if I’m counting right. At least I repeat the truth. You’re just repeating what you’ve convinced yourself of.”

“I’m not just repeating-”

“You are. You’re just too blind to see it.” Sukuna senses that she’s shifted on the defensive. Perfect time to challenge her. “Besides, you’re underestimating me. In my time, I could call upon lost warriors to the capital just to have a fair battle of strength. An alienated mother and an old friend is nothing. Mere child’s play, in fact, I’m sure a child could achieve the task, given they have sufficient intelligence. I’m positive I can find your friend within the next month, even while trapped in this body.”

Nobara opens her mouth to speak, but she has the sense to let him say his piece. He takes a pause, dramatic, deliberate, entirely serious.

“That is, of course, if you’re willing to offer your cooperation.”

...

“...Well?”

He doesn’t expect her to agree, if she’s even half as stubborn as he thinks she is, as proven on countless occasions. Nevertheless, this is going to be a lot more complicated if she doesn’t agree. Familial relations are simple with the right connections, but tracking down old acquaintances? A little more difficult.

On the other hand, now that she knows, it will be easier getting the information out, provided she complies (which in itself is a stretch). But then again, the surprise factor is ruined. He must think of something else, regardless of her response.

...

“...Fine. I’m in.”

...

“What?”

Yuuji’s jaw drops, as if even he can sense the absurdity of the situation despite his less than ideal intelligence quotient. But more than that, it’s Sukuna’s turn to be shocked.

“That’s it? You’re just going to agree?”

Nobara jumps up on the bed, laying down, hands behind her head. “Yep.”

“Why?”

“‘Why?’ Because I felt like it.”

“You felt like it.”

“Yeah.”

“I require a more detailed response to gauge your intentions.”

“That was the most NPC-like thing you’ve said in five months. Since when did your dialogue become so boring?”

“Would you rather I describe in verbose how I will commit various first degree felonies to force your intentions out of you?”

“Ah, much better,” She laughed at her own joke. “Fine. I don’t actually think you’ll find my mum. Saori-chan at most. I just want to see how far you’ll go before you give up.”

Huh. So that’s what it is. He should have suspected it. But having her believe that might be helpful. If she thinks he’s not going to make progress, he can only imagine the look on her face when he inevitably succeeds.

“Very well. We shall see who comes out at top.”

Nobara snorts. “You make it sound like it’s some sort of fair competition. It’s not.”

“It is. As I am a thousand times better than you. The reason you couldn’t find your mother was because you were incompetent.”

“I’m infinity times better than you.”

“I’m-” No, no. He’s not playing her childish games. He’s not. “Never mind. I need some information about Saori. Is she-”

“No, not right now.” Nobara held up a hand, and Sukuna fights the urge to dislodge her arm from her thorax. “I need to get my sleep. I can’t stand dark circles. Surely you know a bit about skincare. Goodnight, Itadori. Bad night, Sukuna. I hope the floor of your mindscape becomes a bunch of legos and your skull pillow is warm at night.”

“Brat-”

“Oh, goodnight, Kugisaki.” Yuuji yawns, having been uninvolved in their conversation yet another time. He fell face-first into the couch, having been sleep deprived (courtesy of Sukuna) for hours. And Sukuna has half a mind to interrupt, to force the two of them awake because why in the world did he spend so long knocking sense into Kugisaki only for her to delay answering the questions until the next day but-

It’s now four. He’ll have to get up in three hours if he wants any chance of not being late.

“Call in sick for him tomorrow.” Sukuna says to Nobara, mouth shifting to Yuuji’s limp hand. “In fact, call in absent for yourself too. I have questions, and I require answers, and you cannot answer well without proper sleep.”

Kugisaki didn’t seem to hear him, perhaps she was already asleep. But Sukuna could swear he heard a soft snicker.

---

“Saori-chan liked bananas,” Nobara says, carefully taking a small bite out of the brownie, as though the taste of it was something to be cherished for life. “And chocolate. I like chocolate too, you know. I’d be more willing to give you information if your dear host buys me another-”

“That is not what I meant,” Sukuna snaps. “Any career interests? Or something she wished to pursue?”

“Oh, that? I don’t know.”

“For spirit’s sake.”

Getting information about Saori-chan was proving to be harder than he thought.

Sukuna had wagered that it would take one hour, at most two. Perhaps three if Nobara liked giving roundabout answers. But no. Five hours in, and Sukuna has only gotten two useful details.

See, Nobara had heeded his words and had taken a day off, much to Yuuji’s joy. But that joy was soon diminished as Yuuji realised that Sukuna had no intentions of letting him sleep in, instead employing him to make a list (an actual, proper list as opposed to randomly jotting down barely understandable bullet points on whatever smooth surface he could find) of whatever information he could fish out of Nobara. Now, the list comprised of eight filled pages, half of which were cut out by repeatedly running the ink over the lines, the pages ripped, and quarter of which were scrawled in hieroglyphics.

“Brat, do not buy her another brownie.” Sukuna warns harshly, scowl barely concealed at his lips. “No matter what she says. I don’t care if she begs. We get out answers first, she gets her brownies later. You’ve already been scammed out of four brownies.”

“Mean.”

“It’s not four brownies, it was three!” Yuuji protests. “And she promised she’d help me with my homework. And my wardrobe! Which you’ve been complaining about since-”

“It was five, I was giving you the benefit of the doubt, brat! She ate one of ours!” Sukuna snaps. “And she’s barely better at studies than you! Kugisaki, what’s the difference between an oxymoron and an antithesis?”

“Um...an antithesis is someone who doesn’t believe in God?”

“That’s atheist.”

“Never mind!” Kugisaki declared, nodding at Yuuji. “Itadori, I may not know the difference between an antithesis and an atheist, but I do know the difference between a good brownie and a great brownie, and I can confirm that this is a top-of-the-charts brownie available for just a thousand yen! If we don’t buy one more, we’re missing out!”

“You are not missing out, brat. I’m missing out! On my information!” There is only one way to describe what Sukuna is experiencing at this exact moment, and in the simplest terms it can be defined as an utter nightmare. There is a proverb that goes ‘Never argue with stupid people, they will drag you down to their level and beat you with experience’. Except Sukuna has to argue with a stupid person, because otherwise his plan will not come to fruition and yesterday’s convincing will amount to nothing.

“Brat,” Sukuna sighs, not talking to Yuuji this time, but Nobara. He senses Yuuji perk up, and then immediately deflate as he moves on. “Do you truly not want to meet your long lost acquaintance? Wasn’t the entire point of your travel to Tokyo was to reunite with Saori-chan? You aren’t even trying.”

“I am trying,” Nobara responds, not looking guilty in the slightest. “But I kind of...don’t remember a lot.”

“If you don’t remember a lot, tell me what you do remember.”

“I remember that she likes chocolate.”

“No-”

He did end up getting some useful information (eventually), all of which were scribbled out on the notebook and underlined multiple times. Brown eyes and hair, worked in an MNC (some ‘company’, despite his knowledge of the modern era which he has gained through observation, he still cannot fathom the concept of it), her estimated age- 22, and in Nobara’s eyes, she looked like a doll. She didn’t. Nobara had a single passport sized photo of the elder girl that she kept safely in a case, and refused to give it to Yuuji (and, by effect: Sukuna) under any circumstances. In her own words: ‘Even if hell freezes over and dances the lambada, you’re not getting it’. Unfortunate, but she was generous enough to let Sukuna get a glance of it.

Such emotional attachment to a piece of glossy paper with a person’s picture. Sukuna will never require something like that, has Uraume’s face, their cursed energy etched into his mind.

...Should he make an attempt to find them?

...No. Uraume, if they too were incarnated, would be an unregistered active sorcerer unlike Nobara’s mother and Saori. Attempting to locate them will only disclose their location to Yuuji and achieve no purpose. Furthermore, if Satoru Gojo, only the strongest sorcerer this generation has produced, catches wind of that...

No. He can’t do that. He needs his retainer safe for the future.

Later that day, Sukuna coaxes Yuuji into checking every LinkedIn profile with so much as a sliver of the name ‘Saori’. Apparently this is one of those sites for office workers, which, coincidentally, Saori is. Office work. What an idiotic era. Why is it expected of you to intentionally lock yourself up in front of some device just to earn? And people studied for that sort of future. What’s the point on putting in so much effort if all you’re destined to achieve is a monotonous life in which you’ll die young of hypertension and probably would be too frail to roam the lands and fight the strong? Sukuna will never understand these people who follow a path of decay and despair-

“Sukuna,” he heard the brat’s voice echo. “Sukuna.”

“What, brat? Has your search yielded any results?”

“Yes,” And it is then Sukuna makes a conscious effort to pay attention. “I’ve been saying it for the last ten minutes. You’re not listening.”

“Perhaps now you understand how I must feel in the body of a brat who doesn’t possess good listening skills?”

“Not again-” Yuuji groaned. “Okay, forget it. Look.” He pointed at the screen, at the picture of a woman who matched Saori a little too much. “Isn’t that her?”

And yes, at first glance, it does seem so, but-

“She’s definitely older than thirty,” Sukuna responds decisively. “No twenty-two year old does work that pays seven hundred thousand yen a month as she says in that post.”

“Or...maybe she’s lying?”

“Unlikely. The way Nobara described her painted her as someone honest.”

“Man, you’re like Sherlock Holmes when you’re not murderous.”

“Who’s Sherlock Holmes?”

“He’s like- a super smart detective man-”

“Stop. I do not want to hear another comparison between me, the King of Curses, a force to be reckoned with, and a so-called ‘super smart detective man’. You believing someone is smart is not a high bar.”

“Can you just stop.”

“No.”

“Ugh- okay, okay, fine.” Yuuji continued scrolling through the profiles. “Does this look like Saori-chan?”

“Too old.”

“Does this?”

“Too young. Probably fresh into adulthood.”

“Okay, it has to be her.”

“Convincing, but she has bright red hair. I clearly remember Nobara telling us that she was not someone daring.”

“People can change, Sukuna.”

“Can they?” he challenged. “Would you argue that the me from a thousand years ago is not the same as the me today?”

“Yes? You have changed, right?”

“Not in any way that matters.”

“Does dyeing your hair matter?”

“Yes? Does that not display the version you wish for everyone to know you as?”

“No? I mean- yes? But-”

“Hence she is not the person we are looking for.”

“God, you’re so annoying-”

“At least I do not make shoddy deductions and wildly incorrect guesses on who our prime target is.”

“You talk like an assassin.”

“A murderer. I do not kill for money or political reasons, brat. I kill for my own joy and pleasure. There’s a difference. One is done by the weak. The other by the strong. You should have the sense to correlate.”

“Forget I said anything.”

Sukuna, thankfully, did not comment further, only relocating his eye to Yuuji’s neck. “Let’s see. You’re searching simply based on her given name. How about including her family name? And perhaps you can limit search results to Japan, if not Tokyo. This should be common sense. ”

“...In my defense, I haven’t used LinkedIn in my life like...ever?”

“And I’m from the Heian Era. Better excuses exist, brat.”

---