Chapter Text
9th April, 2018 Nighttime
Megumi Fushiguro slipped over the fence, landed lightly, barely a sound. Phone pressed to his ear, cursed energy humming low under his skin.
"Okay," Megumi muttered, "I'm at the thermometer shed."
From the phone came Satoru Gojo's voice, way too cheerful for midnight. "Perfect. The finger should be there."
Megumi frowned. "Why is a special grade cursed object just... lying around in a shed?"
Satoru laughed, which at the moment didn't sound reassuring, especially because it was Megumi. "If it's that obvious, then recovering it should be no problem, right?"
Megumi clicked his tongue. "You're the worst."
He reached the shed and slid it open. It was... drumrolls please... ✨Empty✨. Megumi stared. "...It's not here."
"Huh?"
There was a beat. Then Satoru burst out laughing like he'd just been handed free front-row seats to chaos. "For real? That's hilarious."
Megumi's eye twitched. "You're kidding."
"Nope," Satoru said, delightedly. "That's actually so funny."
"I'm going to hit you."
"Ahhh, youthful aggression," Gojo said fondly. "I miss that."
Megumi shut the shed door harder than necessary. "Someone moved it."
"Guess so," Gojo replied, still amused. "Well~. No coming home until it's recovered."
Megumi stopped walking. "...What?"
"No coming home," Gojo repeated brightly. "Until you bring me the finger."
Megumi inhaled slowly, counting in his head like he'd been taught, to calm his anger. When this is over, he thought, I'm actually going to punch him.
"Yeah," Megumi said flatly. "Whatever."
He hung up. "...You've got to be kidding me," he muttered.
Someone had taken a special grade cursed object... And whoever had it probably had no idea what they were holding.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Back to 10th April, 2018
Megumi felt it the moment he stepped near the rugby field. Just... odd, and wrong cursed energy.
"...You've got to be kidding me. I hate everything," he muttered.
He crouched, palm hovering just above the grass. The residue was old. A curse. Grade 2 at best, if he was being generous.
"Probably attracted to the object," Megumi said under his breath. "So that means the finger's still nearby."
Great.
The problem was the presence. It was smeared across the grounds, like ink spilt in water. Sneaking around unnoticed was already off the table.
He straightened, annoyed. "What a pain."
For a second, he genuinely considered just getting the entire school shut down for emergency maintenance. And then sweep the whole building, and find the damned finger.
Just then, he heard loud cheering. Megumi blinked and looked up. Students were pouring toward the track field, buzzing like something stupidly exciting was happening.
"...What now?"
He followed the noise because curiosity won over, obviously. On the field, a crowd had formed. Teachers, students, and WAYYY too many witnesses for cursed-object recovery. At the centre stood a man in a tracksuit Mr. Takagi, and a pink-haired student who, according to the cheerings and whispers, was named Itadori.
Takagi rolled his shoulders. "Watch closely. This is how you do shot put."
He hurled the metal ball, which landed with a solid thud.
"Fourteen meters!" someone shouted.
Mr. Takagi looked smug af.
The crowd erupted.
Then it was Yuji's turn. He picked up the shot put and stared at it. "...So," he said, scratching his cheek, "how do I throw this?"
The crowd went quiet.
Takagi blinked. "...You don't know?"
"Nope."
Takagi hesitated. Then waved a hand. "Just throw it however you want."
Megumi frowned. "What?"
On the sidelines, Sasaki leaned toward Iguchi. "Is Yuji really that famous or something?"
Iguchi nodded solemnly. "Yeah, everyone calls him the reincarnation of the Croatian Fighter, Mirko Cro Cop."
Sasaki paused. "...Isn't Mirko Cro Cop still alive?"
Iguchi thought about it. "Yeah."
"...That's rough," Sasaki said. "Poor Mirko."
"He was even given the nickname 'Tiger of the West Junior High' from the other kids who basically idolised him."
"Sounds lame, not gonna lie."
Yuji rolled the ball in his hands, then shrugged.
"Okay."
He just casually threw it. Takagi, meanwhile, was feeling pretty confident.
Shot put's about strength, he thought. He's a sprinter. It's not even fair... But it's sports... so this just shows how dedicated—.
He was snapped out of his thoughts by the crowd's loud cheering and astonishment.
"WHAT THE F—!?"
The ball slammed into the football net at the far end of the field.
The metal bars bent as if they were made up of paper and someone had crumpled them up.
"...That's at least thirty meters," someone whispered.
Takagi's mouth fell open.
Yuji threw a hand up. "Alright! I win."
Everyone just stared... Hard. Sasaki just sobered up. She had seen far crazier things this week. "His namesake is tiger, but it should be gorilla."
Iguchi followed suit. "Yeah. He just threw it like a baseball pitch."
Yuji just slapped the arm of his teacher, whose jaw was still hanging. "Alright, teach. I gotta go now. Nice throw by the way."
Sasaki then came up to him. "Itadori. You don't have to stay obliged to stay in our club, y'know. You really are more suited to a sports club."
Yuji said, "I know. I have my reasons. I wanna be home before five. Besides, you were the one who asked me to be a ghost member. And you guys can't even go to a haunted place without me."
Iguchi muttered, offended. "Well, we're scared because we like it."
Yuji said, "The point is, I don't have a problem. Besides, the club has grown on me, y'know."
Sasaki just smiled mischievously. "Well then, suit yourself. We don't mind."
Iguchi backed her up. "Yeah, exactly."
Meanwhile, Megumi, who had witnessed the whole thing, thought to himself, Whoa, that's impressive. He did that without any cursed energy... Just natural ability. I wonder if he's like Zen'in senpai?
Yuji then noticed the school clock. Crap. It was already half past four.
He sprinted out of school like a car and passed Megumi, who felt it. The presence of the cursed object.
Megumi tried to call out to him, but he was already way too far away.
What the heck? How is he so fast???
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Yuji stood by the bed, holding a bouquet that was way too bright for a hospital room.
His grandpa glanced at it and frowned. "You don't have to come here every day."
Yuji shrugged. "Well, I don't have anything else to do. Not my fault, I'm bored."
"Tch." His grandpa waved a weak hand. "Stop wasting money on bouquets every single day."
"They're not for you," Yuji said casually. "They're for the nurses."
His grandpa stared at him. "...That's even more reason not to."
Yuji grinned. "They work hard, and they are pretty nice, one has a pretty big a—."
"Don't you have club activities now?" his grandpa asked, not wanting to even know what his grandson wanted to say next.
"Yeah," Yuji said. "But it wraps up by four. I've got time."
Silence settled in. Yuji looked out the window. The classic late afternoon scene.
"Yuji," his grandpa said slowly. "I've got some final words for you... about your par—"
"Not interested," Yuji cut in immediately.
Silence.
"...Yuji," his grandpa tried again, "I have something to say about your parents."
"I'm not hearing anything," Yuji said, jaw tight. "Will you stop trying to act all cool before you die?"
His grandpa snapped, voice suddenly sharp. A MAN WANTS TO GO OUT IN STYLE! DON'T YOU GET IT!?"
Yuji's eye twitched.
His grandpa turned his head away, voice softer now. "Yuji... you're a strong kid."
Yuji didn't move.
"So help people," his grandpa continued. "Doesn't have to be all the time. Just... whenever you can."
The machines kept beeping.
"You might feel lost," he said. "And don't expect gratitude. Trust me. You will be disappointed if you do."
Yuji swallowed.
"But still," his grandpa murmured, "help them."
A breath.
"And when it's your time to go... make sure you're surrounded by people."
Silence.
"Grandpa?" Yuji said.
No answer.
"...Grandpa?"
Nothing.
Yuji stood there for a second longer than necessary. Then he turned and pressed the call button.
A nurse's voice came through the quiet. "Mr. Itadori? How can I help you?"
Yuji sucked in a breath, forcing it steady. "My grandpa is dead."
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Yuji sat at the reception desk, pen moving slowly as he filled out the forms.
The receptionist watched him with gentle eyes. "That should be the last of the paperwork," she said softly. "Are you... sure, you're okay?"
Yuji paused, thinking. "Well, this is my first time dealing with something like this, so it hasn't really sunk in yet."
He smiled. A small, strangely calm expression crept up his face. "But my grandpa would get mad if I just moped around. So I guess I'll laugh while I burn him up."
The receptionist froze. "...How can you say something like that?"
Before Yuji could answer, a depressed voice came out.
"Yuji Itadori, correct?"
Yuji turned.
A boy about his age stood there, dark hair, sharp eyes, looking like he'd walked into the wrong building and decided to roll with it.
"Yes?" Yuji said.
"There's no time to explain," the guy said immediately. "I'm from Jujutsu High. You need to hand over the cursed object you have. It is extremely dangerous."
The receptionist blinked. Is he some kind of friend? "...Cursed object?" she murmured.
Yuji tilted his head. "Uh. Who are you?"
He gestured vaguely at the room. "Also, I'm kinda mourning right now, so can we do this later?"
The boy sighed, pulled out his phone, and shoved the screen in Yuji's face.
The image showed a long cylinder, wrapped in paper, with strange symbols inked all over, placed in a box. The same Yuji had so graciously gone to get from the maintenance shed, as if he were getting milk.
[A/N: Yes, I'm milking the milk analogy and will probably continue to do so.]
Yuji blinked. "...Oh."
The guy's voice sharpened. "You have it. Right?"
"Oh yeah," Yuji said easily. "That thing."
The guy stiffened.
Yuji continued, "I don't really mind giving it back, but it's with my club members right now. They're really into that kinda stuff."
A beat.
"And also," Yuji added, scratching his head, "can you explain everything better? I'm kinda slow."
The guy stared at him. Then turned and motioned toward a quieter corner.
"Listen carefully," he said. "Nationally, the number of unexplained deaths and missing persons exceeds ten thousand annually. The majority of those cases," the dark-haired guy continued, "are caused by curses. They're born from negative energy that leaks out of people."
Yuji frowned. "A... curse?"
He scratched his cheek. "Like. Ghost stuff?"
"It doesn't matter whether you believe me or not," the boy said flatly. "Places where people gather, schools, hospitals, etc., accumulate that energy."
Yuji glanced around the hospital.
The guy went on. "Pain. Regret. Humiliation. When people dwell on those feelings, the energy builds up."
"And because of that," he said, "cursed objects are placed in those locations as talismans."
Yuji blinked again. "A talisman?"
He tilted his head. "Isn't that... good? How is that bad?"
Megumi exhaled sharply. "A talisman sounds harmless. The more evil placed on a cursed object, the more it repels other curses. Using poison to fight poison, if you will."
Yuji nodded like he was following. He wasn't.
"But," Megumi continued, "after many years, the seal weakens. The talisman changes its form. Instead of repelling curses, it attracts them. Feeds on them."
Yuji's eyes flicked up. "Oh."
"Compared to other cursed objects," Megumi said, voice tight, "the one at your school is extremely dangerous. It's classified as a special grade."
"Ah," Yuji said again, then casually reached into his bag. "Okay, okay, geez. I don't care."
He tossed the box at Megumi.
"Just explain it to my friends."
Megumi caught it automatically, fingers already tense. He opened the lid. It was... drumrolls please... ✨Empty✨.
His blood ran cold. "...What?"
The box was bare, except for the cursed energy residue. That's what I felt? The lingering cursed energy residuals of the cursed object in the box?
Megumi's head snapped up. He grabbed Yuji by the collar and slammed him back against the wall.
"Where are its contents?" he hissed carefully. Not saying cursed object. Not here.
He'd already made many mistakes in his approach.
Saying things like curse and cursed energy in front of civilians, and while it was important to reason with Itadori here, he could have avoided the receptionist hearing it.
Gojo was absolutely going to be insufferable about this.
Yuji grabbed Megumi's wrist, startled but not scared. "Like I said, my friends, the Occult Research Club has it."
Megumi released him, stepping back, jaw tight. "...Where do they live?"
Yuji blinked. "Not sure. Somewhere in the Izumi district, I think."
Then, like an afterthought. "They're probably gonna open it. Like, unwrap the paper at school, though."
He tilted his head. "Is that bad?"
Megumi looked at him dead serious. "...It's not just bad," he said, voice grave. "They'll die."
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
At School
Sasaki and Iguchi were in the Home Eco. Room (read the Occult Research Club). The lights were off. Candles were lit.
Iguchi whispered, "Did we really have to sneak into school for this?"
Sasaki shrugged, already kneeling on the floor. "The vibes matter for this stuff. You said it yourself."
Iguchi clicked his tongue. He had, in fact, said it. Curse his past self.
Sasaki opened the box. "Huh... what's this?"
"No clue."
It was a cylindrical object covered with... bandages? No paper. It had serious characters written on it. It felt heavy...
Iguchi laughed nervously. "Sorta looks like a cursed burrito, doesn't it?"
The two looked at each other and nodded.
Sasaki tried to peel the paper wrapped around the object. It wouldn't budge. She frowned, scratching at it harder. "Look, nothing's gonna happen. The candlelight just elevates things, you know?"
"That thing already gives murder vibes," Iguchi muttered. "We don't need more."
Then the paper loosened.
Sasaki froze for half a second, then smiled. "Oh. Cool. It came off."
They peeled the wrapping away completely.
Silence.
Lying in Sasaki's palm was what looked unmistakably like a human finger. Their eyes widened in sync.
"...Is it real?" Sasaki whispered.
No one answered.
Iguchi's hands started shaking.
Above them, the air warped. A tear opened. Like reality itself peeling back. From inside it, shapes pressed forward. Twisted forms, claws and mouths forcing their way through. Cursed spirits began to crawl out. But Sasaki and Iguchi had yet to notice.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Yuji and Megumi were sprinting back toward the school, shoes slamming against the pavement, breath fogging up the evening air.
Yuji glanced sideways, still somehow running like this was warm-ups. "So... these seals. They just come off that easily? Kinda defeats the purpose, don't you think."
Megumi didn't slow down. "They don't. It's not that easy to remove a seal. A normal person, that is, someone without cursed energy, can't remove a proper seal at all."
Yuji blinked. "Oh."
"But this is an exceptional case," Megumi continued. "The seal is ancient. And the cursed object inside is way too strong. At this point, the seal might as well be normal paper."
Yuji nodded like he understood. He absolutely did not.
Curses. Negative energy. Talismans. Special grade, whatever. It all sounded like something out of a late-night conspiracy forum. He scratched the back of his head while running, brain lagging behind his legs.
He really hoped this guy wasn't just some random lunatic in a school uniform... Not that he wanted Sasaki and Iguchi to be in danger or anything.
They finally reached the school gates, the air around the building thick and wrong, like it was pressing down on Yuji's shoulders.
OK. No way in hell are these curse things real, he thought. But then his chest tightened. But what the hell is this pressure?
It felt worse than a maths test.
Megumi stopped suddenly. "Stay here," he said, eyes locked on the darkened school. "Just tell me where the club room is."
That snapped Yuji out of it. "Huh? Hold on. I'm coming with you."
Megumi turned, already irritated.
"It's only been a couple of months," Yuji went on, fists clenched, "but they're my friends. I have to do something to help."
Megumi looked back at him. "Stay. Here."