#Prison realm | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lilacxquartz · 3 months ago

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— ALL EYES ON YOU —

prison realm (cursed spirit form) x gn!reader

plot: tasked with retrieving the prison realm nothing could have prepared you for what it truly was — a/n: some lore and interactions, final part will conclude with some yandere horror — masterlist • ao3 • part 2 of 3 • < previous chapter • next chapter >

Chapter 2. Observation

The journey back was not without a great deal of tension; the cursed spirit trailing behind you like an unwelcome shadow, breaching your personal space in a way that could almost be considered parasitic—from the way it latched onto you—ever silent and unsettling.

You brought it back to your boss, expecting to be free from the burden of delivering it, from being around it for a second longer, but then you were denied that right.

“What is… this?” they asked, eyeing the being up with clear confusion painted across their features.

When you couldn’t form a response, however, Kenjaku paused, unsure how to process exactly what you had brought back. They sent you out with the task of retrieving the prison realm; an object, the final remnants of a monk, and yet, you had brought back a whole being.

“It…” you finally managed to choke out, “it was an object when I entered the room,” you continued, “but then something—I’m not sure what—activated and it became… whatever this is.”

Kenjaku listened and blinked as if bewildered, but also, fascinated. In all of their years of studying and working with jujutsu, they had never quite seen something to rival this. Their mind raced with all sorts of questions and possibilities as they considered the potential idea that the way cursed spirits are born have since then evolved from what they knew.

Just as they turned their back from the prison realm, however, you had already managed to quietly slip away, hoping to pack your things and leave this unsettling situation behind before they both realised that you were gone. For some reason, it was much more of a pressing issue for you to avoid whatever it was that you had awoken while in Tengen’s territory, than it was to confront your own boss - and that was with knowing exactly how they could be when not amused, too.

In the background, as you shoved things roughly into a bag, you could hear them interrogating it, maybe even bargaining with it. The results from what you could make out, though, seemed to come out flat, which was especially evident from the sigh that left Kenjaku’s lips from the moment they walked back into the room.

“What a pain,” they muttered to themselves, pinching the bridge of their nose between their fingers, slowly allowing their eyes to drift and meet with you again. “...What are you doing?”

You gulped. “R-rearranging things?”

Their gaze narrowed. “You’re leaving - why?”

“I’m not sure why, but, I-I just feel… uncomfortable around that… thing,” you hesitated as you tried to put your thoughts into words; you couldn’t quite shake off what you felt around it before. Most people and cursed spirits alike all adapted to your technique if you set the right intention, this creature, however, infiltrated it, it felt like, which left you feeling less than ideal.

Kenjaku nodded as they considered your stance, but they didn’t take your attempted retreat as an acceptable answer. For them, it was rather a matter of figuring out why exactly a cursed spirit would be acting this way, and what exactly it had done earlier for someone once reliable to be hesitant of their work. After all, never had such a problem with you before, so for that reason, they pressed the issue.

“Why?” they simply asked once more, repeating themselves.

You took a deep breath as you considered the cause of it all. It wasn’t that you didn’t know how to begin to explain this whole situation, but it was rather the part that you couldn’t quite believe your own thoughts. The cursed spirit, the prison realm, whatever you could call it—definitely had eyes for you, didn’t it? It wasn’t all in your head. The way it trailed after you like something with magnetic focus, or how it could easily bypass your cursed technique, left you feeling at best, unsure about it. You seldom felt unsafe in the work you took on, but that interaction you had with it earlier? It made you feel afraid.

Therefore, in your attempted explanation, you chose to focus on the details, rather than to scramble forward with the whole picture.

“I… believe that my cursed technique had messed with it,” you revealed with a start, taking a moment to pause and to think about your next words, “I had the intention to set myself as an ally, but perhaps this thing doesn’t understand the concept, even if it does seem to be intelligent enough. It started to see me as something else…? I don’t know what though, or how to properly describe it, but, I simply didn’t feel safe around it and even now…” you added as you trailed off, shuddering as you faced the direction you felt pressure radiating from, “I can still feel it staring at me, I can feel its many, many eyes on me and I—”

“—you’re overthinking again,” Kenjaku cut you off, growing annoyed as they stifled your nervous habit; something that they had always found a slight bit annoying, especially so given that your technique called for a certain level of calm. They remained quiet for a moment before pressing on with an idea in mind. “I’d like to try something, if you’d let me.”

You warily looked back at them while trying to calm down, getting a bad feeling about this already. “Try something?” you asked, hoping that your interactions with that thing could be minimised, and yet, you had an inkling of a feeling that it was headed the opposite direction.

“You’re not going to like it,” Kenjaku confirmed, watching the hope in your eyes briefly shatter in betrayal, thinking that you were being a little dramatic, “but, I want to observe this interaction—this bond or whatever—that it thinks it has with you.”

“Observe…?” you asked, not expecting an answer, something that they didn’t give to you regardless. Working for this person was either easygoing and a smooth ride, or it wasn’t. The worst parts of your career were when they couldn’t shake a curiosity off, leading you to have a front-row seat of their descent into madness as they tried to process what exactly they were dealing with. For some reason though, for this particular case, you had a dreadful sort of feeling that it would be a quick notice—for a reason you couldn’t quite explain—leaving you feeling uncertain once again.

You tried to rationalise it as maybe the cursed spirit in question takes orders from who activates it, but in that case, why would it try to get as close to you as it did? You highly doubted that, as a result of it tethering itself to you so tightly, that it would fulfil its mission of capturing the six eyes user. The very way it regarded you with intense focus alone, let you to believe that you were the person it intended to trap instead. Another possibility drifted into mind following that notion, that perhaps, this sort of form was never meant to be triggered to begin with.

(Because what exactly were the chances that a cursed spirit could manifest out of a cursed object?)

You paused once more, stilling in your footsteps as they led you to where they were containing the being. Your hand rested on the surface of the door, not quite daring to push inside, yet not running away from the task at hand that awaited you. Kenjaku didn’t intervene, simply observing you from a measured distance. The way you both approached and interacted with the prison realm, was too part of their study in perceiving its relationship with you, after all.

Again, they were your employer for long enough that they knew your quirks and habits for long enough. They knew exactly the sort of things that would make you nervous as well as what you would or wouldn’t lie about. An example being, that you would always claim to be under the weather if they were to assign you to a mission that involved even the slightest amount of combat, so they adapted, leaving the retrieval and stealth missions up to you instead. You were useful where you thrived, so if this thing posed an issue to you, they would therefore have no problem in pulling you out.

Kenjaku thought this much too, as they anticipated the interaction, that if this was more trouble than it was worth, that they would simply reassign you to deduct just how big of a potential counter threat they could potentially face come autumn. If the prison realm had a mind to imprison you instead, then that wouldn’t do either, given its conditions. It wasn’t that they cared about your wellbeing, but rather, that they still had use for you and an interference like this, would be more trouble than it was truly worth.

Finally, though, you pushed the door open, revealing a dark room devoid of light and the creature standing in the corner. What was interesting to you, was that it didn’t go back to its object form after being left alone. You could just about make it out from the dark space, its skin just vaguely reflecting the light from the hallway. It was sickly pale and almost rotten in appearance, further feeding into your unease.

You flinched as it snapped its head towards you, walking back into your boss who quickly steadied you by the shoulders, warily facing it head on as its eyes snapped open, focusing right on you. Slowly, it cracked and popped its joints as it made its way towards you, extending its arms to reach out and touch you, but not quite make contact—largely because that was right about when the intervention occurred.

Kenjaku’s own instincts and understanding with this sort of development were admittedly just as new as yours were, but they used what knowledge that they did have about the object in question to study it for just under a minute—not allowing the full sixty seconds to complete. They figured, though, that since you weren’t fully distracted nor focused on anything else but the prison realm at hand, that the conditions weren’t being met to begin with, but something about the whole interaction left even them, feeling off.

In the meantime, you had just about managed to lock your sights onto the whole form of the creature that loomed over you—unsure where exactly to look—as all of its eyes were on you. You let out rolling, shuddering gasps as you tried to retreat from it, feeling thoroughly afraid, with your technique not having a single effect on it any longer—if it ever had.

Kenjaku pulled you out at the last second, right before it could connect its twig-like finger to touch your face, quickly sealing off the chamber within a flash.

It took a moment for you both to compose yourselves after.

“That… was interesting,” they muttered more to themselves than to you before taking a step forward, slightly pushing you off to the side, “feel free to take that break if you wish - I’m going to attempt to reroute its focus - it has a job to fulfil, and I’m going to make that happen, one way or another…”

“You’re not going to sell me out to it, are you?” you warily asked.

Kenjaku scoffed and kept a tight tone as they responded to you, “No, but it might yield slightly and do its job if it understands that it could potentially gain access to you,” they considered, “I haven’t heard of cursed spirits forming a connection with humans before - outside of vengeful spirits that is, so whatever it thinks it has with you, should be utilised rather than completely dismissed.”

You were about to reply, but then they continued, leaving you standing with your lips slightly parted.

“It does make me wonder though, that if it’s a cursed spirit in this form and if it potentially takes on the six eyes user, then what if… I could absorb them both using Geto’s maximum uzumaki - what a glorious betrayal that could be,” they considered, “would that be a way of obtaining the technique, or would it be the same risk posed as the potential of me taking over his body all the same?”

You tilted your head at that thought. “It’s an interesting thought, but I thought you couldn’t take over Satoru Gojo due to the immense amount of power from the technique alone - isn’t that why you made an effort to eliminate such potential users, given that it would be a hard counter?”

Your boss narrowed their eyes, not seeming too pleased at the reminder, clearing their throat as they stifled down their ramblings. “I suppose not then, but if a person is trapped within a cursed spirit that can turn into a cursed spirit, then they might as well be part of it,” they added, “a curious thought experiment at best,” they smiled, hoping that you would catch on and see the appeal.

“What about everyone else that was trapped within it though?” you considered.

Kenjaku blinked, coming back to themselves for a moment, the wonder slowly fading from their eyes as they were forced to be realistic for a moment. “Ah, that’s a consideration that I hadn’t thought of…” they admitted, “though, perhaps that could be something for me to look further into after everything else is underway; I’d hate to undo my own progress…”

They then turned towards you before backing away again, pushing the door ever so slightly open but not the whole way outward. An eerie chill passed by you as this happened, but you thought nothing of it for the time being.

“Pack what you need for a couple of nights away,” they instructed, returning their tone to something that carried authority, seemingly concluding what they dismissed as idle small talk from just moments before, “book a hotel closeby, though, I’d like for you to be reachable if there’s any new developments - I’ll handle this situation for the timebeing… one way or another.”

You nodded, taking the journey back to where you were before, returning to pack your bag. The chill seemed to follow you, but you wrote it off as a draft, returning your focus on leaving the building as soon as possible.

Something about the room you were in felt especially suffocating, however, as if it had suddenly become smaller than it realistically could have been. You felt watched too, and a certain coldness crept up on you, causing you to freeze and to whip your head back to process the dread that was abruptly facing you.

That… thing… the prison realm, was staring right back at you and you couldn’t move beyond changing directions. You were left frozen, unable to talk and unable to run.

A memory flickered through your senses as you considered its history and usage.

“One minute is all it takes.”

Your heart sank to your stomach as you were forced to process this.

(How long, exactly, has it been standing there?)

(Surely not for a whole minute?)

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gothicminxx · 1 year ago

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Part 1 here

Part 2 is finally here! It took me forever to write, there’s a happy ending in this one I promise!

Satosugu x Fem! Reader

CW: Angst, mentions of death, mentions of blood, pet names (baby and angel), established relationship with Gojo, mentions of sex if you squint. A slight razzle dazzle of the Shibuya arc.

WC: 5.2k

Also do y’all like love and deadspace? Thinking of posting a Zayne one shot soon.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Late hours of the night brought the city to life, lights glittered brightly and it hid the beauty of the stars in the dark sky. Any attraction given to the charm of nature was only given to the full moon, bright and massive with a tint of blood orange to it tonight— a fitting color for Halloween night. The streets of Shibuya littered with college students and foreigners from different countries that had come down to experience a party of a lifetime. Common and unique costumes alike wandered drunkenly on the pavement, stumbling not only over their feet but words as well.

Halloween night in Shibuya was known for its array of bars, genres of music that boomed loudly in the city, and the small community of party goers that it created— a splendid environment for extroverts. It set the perfect trap for those with intentions that were the least bit pure to bait and capture the great Satoru Gojo, the man that had dampened the lives of curses the moment he was born.

The night had begun like any other, Satoru stood in the rather large kitchen with a gray towelette resting on his shoulder. He wore an apron that wrapped tightly around his slender waist as he concentrated on perfecting his tonkatsu chicken for dinner. Quietly he hummed along to a random playlist on his phone, tongue sticking out slightly from the corner of his mouth. His back muscles flexed the moment he began cutting up vegetables for dinner.

You stood in the kitchen with your husband, preparing a sweet cream that would accompany the matcha swiss rolls you were working hard on. Satoru, being a greedy man, adored having sweet pastries after dinner made by his lovely wife. He constantly begged you for a delicious confection, coaxing you with a much needed massage, or even a bath for two which always ended in a moment of tangled moans. You never complained when it came to indulging his addiction to sugar, it was a mere excuse to spend time together in the kitchen for a couple of hours, even if you already spent a lot of time with him.

Satoru grabbed plates from the cupboard to assemble your dinner as you popped your tasty dessert in the oven. Sauntering over to the small dining table you began to set everything up, allowing Satoru to pull a chair out for you before setting your dinner in front of you. Together you savored the flavors of each item of food, sharing in conversation about mundane things that held no importance at the time.

As dessert cooled down from the oven both of you sat on the cozy sectional couch in your living room, sitting on his lap to feed him dessert. Giggling as he threw compliments your way like a love sick puppy dog after each bite. Even if you had been married to Satoru for three years now the two of you acted like teenagers in love.

You laid snuggled up in his side with his arms wrapped tightly around you, watching a movie, slowly dozing off. Before a perfect night could conclude, Satoru’s phone rang loudly, begging for attention obnoxiously snapping you out of a sleepy haze. Groaning loudly he reached for his phone, pressing the green accept button with a roll of his eyes, “What is it now, Nanami?”

The deep gentle voice of Nanami flowed through his phone as he pressed it to his ear, furrowing his brows as he listened along. Being the nosy person you were, you tried your hardest to listen to the conversation but his voice was muffled. Whatever Nanami was telling Satoru it appeared to be serious, his body stiffened underneath you, “Uh huh, be there soon.” Satoru’s slender finger clicked the red decline button before he tossed the mobile device to the side.

A loud groan escaped his lips, rubbing the length of his face with his hand. A sense of worry washed over you as you quickly sat up, “I'm sorry baby, but we gotta get going.” He stated, standing from the couch as he extended his hand down to help you up.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, a perplexed expression falling on your beautiful face.

“It seems a veil has been casted down in Shibuya. Non-sorcerers are trapped inside without a way out, sorcerers may move freely in certain areas, while others are blocked off.” The situation sounded grave, it was concerning to be left in the dark, nobody had any idea of who could possibly be behind it.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Leaning back against a metal pole you let out a loud heaving breath, clutching your cursed tool tightly that the white of your knuckles were visible. The head of a deformed human was held in your hand, blood spilling against the tile before you discarded it on the floor. Your lungs felt as if they were on fire after the relentless pace of bolting through the crowded subway station, slicing each deformed human that came near you. Mahito had an endless supply of these things, spitting more out from his mouth in globs that it seemed nearly impossible to kill them all.

Satoru had been separated from you for a mere second which was absolutely devastating for the powerful sorcerer, his main goal as it always has been, was to keep you safe in the confinements of his limitless technique. But Hanami and Jogo had different plans, separating him from you the moment an opportunity presented itself. You were ultimately the biggest thing he cared about, the cursed spirits had an understanding that as long as you were near Satoru, he would be reckless in his movements. Without hesitation he would hurt those that stood near as he used infinite void to destroy the cursed spirits if it meant keeping you safe. A technique that without fail would earn him victory.

Mahito had been put in charge of tiring you out, to exhaust all of your cursed energy, he doubted your abilities believing that you were a mere weakling. But as soon as his doubt came, it quickly deteriorated, the blade of your Katana burned bright red and pink resembling a wildfire. It terrified yet intrigued the patch face curse to witness first hand, he had only been warned that you were a reversed curse technique user with the special ability of bringing back the dead. The power of your cursed energy, the way you transferred it to the blade burning it, causing it to turn a lovely shade of glowing orange-- excited him, “I never knew you’d be this much fun!” Mahito giggled, twirling with his arms extended like a child.

Wiping sweat from your brow a smirk etched itself on your face, “I didn’t expect you to be this annoying.” You hissed, gripping the handle of the katana, digging your heel into the ground preparing to race towards him.

The cursed spirit had become a nuisance rather quickly that it had gotten under your skin. Your main focus was to run downstairs towards Satoru to be by his side, where you belonged. You knew better than to be worried about him, he was the strongest after all but you couldn’t help it— something was off. Digging the ball of your foot on the tile ground you lunged forward, the fiery blade coming in contact with the cursed spirit. Mahito’s eyes widened as your movements caught him off guard, piercing through his abdomen causing a choked cough to escape him. You twist the blade, listening to the squelch of his organs before pulling the Katana away, “I’m getting sick of your shit.” Your words are dripping with venom.

Another cackle stems from his lips that it only manages to enrage you more. The moment you had arrived with Satoru to Shibuya, warning bells rang in your head, the thick layers of the veil were enough to give you a clear sign. “Awe, you don’t mean that.” Mahito cooed, jutting his lips in a pout.

Igniting the katana with more cursed energy, your legs lept into another sprint, quick to dodge a blow from Mahito’s fist that stretched out like a rubber band. The fiery blade makes contact with his abdomen once more earning a groan of pain from his lips, crimson blood decorating the blade of your katana as it’s ripped away from Mahitos stomach. You could feel the familiar burn in your lungs and the ache in your muscles from exhaustion, constantly running circles around him for the last thirty minutes was draining.

Annoyingly enough for the patch face curse, exerting your physical stamina would never be enough to exhaust the cursed energy stored in your body. You were far too calculating, too aware of how much energy you needed to exude from yourself in order to take an opponent down; it was infuriating. If Mahito hadn’t been instructed to keep you alive, he would have touched the essence of your soul and morphed you into a doll he could play with.

Mahito tilted his head, clutching his fists tightly almost as if he was preparing to send another attack your way. Instead, he snickered as his gaze drifted to the stairs that led to the lower level of the subway station, “Come play some more, doll.” he licked his lips almost predatory as he sprinted toward the stairs, listening to your feet not far behind him-- it was all according to plan.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Cerulean eyes held a barbaric gaze, wild grin plastered on his face as his long legs took strides toward the volcano head curse, that coward in fear from the mere sight of him. His pale cheeks stained with crimson blood and his breath was frantic from eradicating deformed humans. The plan of separating him from you failed, ultimately he had released his infinite void domain for a tenth of a second to rid of the nuisances that were Mahito’s doing.

“You crying?” Satoru snickered as he stepped closer to Jogo, rage and adrenaline coursing through his veins; he felt like a god. His head tilted to the side in a mocking manner, dusting his blue blazer with a displeased look on his face, “I don’t take too kindly to being separated from my wife, you understand that… right, Jogo?”

Satoru had become fed up with the constant battle, the pathetic back and forth with curses that believed they could defeat him; he was a force to be reckoned with. As he stared at the trepidation in Jogo’s eyes; though it brought him satisfaction, he simply wanted to be at your side again to protect you. Reaching his large hand out, Saturo took a hold of Jogo’s arm, ripping the appendage off his body, a giggle escaping his lips. The curse let out a panicked yelp, trying his best to create distance between him and the six eyed sorcerer; he had to keep him busy for a few more minutes but it was starting to feel like an eternity to him. Being put against Satoru was pure misery for the volcano head.

He pushed through the crowd of frozen bodies that had been affected by his infinite void domain, finding joy in the chase. Jogo was quick on his feet but Satoru wasn’t too far behind, in his panic he found himself throwing balls of fire at the white haired man; bouncing off his limitless. Jogo knew it was a desperate attempt, that he would never be able to hit Gojo, his limitless too powerful.

Racing footsteps echoed throughout the lower level of the subway station, laughter bouncing off the walls; it sounded all too familiar to Jogo. His footsteps slowed down as the shadow of a figure danced along the wall, long blue hair flowing in the wind— Mahito appeared down the stairs, giggling like a maniac. The new presence halted Satoru the moment he laid eyes on you chasing after the patch face curse, your katana blazing an angry red.

His heart fluttered as relief washed over him; you were okay. His focus soon shifts towards you, the chase soon dispersing from his mind as Satoru’s feet quickly move in your direction; planning to shield you in the confinements of his limitless technique. It felt as though he had gone a lifetime separated from you, the worry had been gnawing at him. Yet he knew better, knew that you were capable of defending yourself in the face of danger, but it never made him worry any less.

Mahito raced toward Jogo, a smirk evident on his face, “Jogo, it’s time!” He exclaimed.

Milky hair came into your view, hand grasping your shoulder, pulling you into his side. His hold was firm as if to shield you from the world, hearing Mahito’s words was enough for the six eyes to sense a threat approaching. “Stay close to me.” Satoru instructed his jaw clenched tightly, you could only nod in response.

It was a late reaction as your eyes widened, feeling his firm body against yours; wanting to feel you close to him. Since the events that had perspired with Suguru a few years ago, Satoru kept you under lock and key like a guard dog protecting its home. It was rare for you to be out of his sight, never too far as the fear of losing you too stayed with him, sticking like gum. He requested the higher ups to keep you at Jujutsu High where you spent most of your days training the students and helping in the infirmary. While most of the teacher’s received missions often that required their attention, to keep you safe, he made sure you stayed busy at school. It was never that Satoru didn’t believe you to be capable of defending yourself or even that he doubted your abilities, he knew you were strong. But you were also the most precious thing in his life and he would be damned if even a tiny scratch scathed your pretty skin.

Jogo followed Mahito, a loud whistle erupting from his lips as if he were signaling something or someone. Satoru’s arms tightened around your waist as a figure appeared in the distance, responding to Jogo. Your throat felt tight as the silence was deafening, the footsteps rang loudly in your ears, the air impossibly thick. Instinctually your hand reached Satoru’s blazer to grasp it tightly, afraid to be separated from him once more.

“Satoru and Name, been awhile.” The voice was gentle, a silky melody that made your hearts drop to your stomachs. You knew that voice anywhere.

As the figure approached from the shadows of the subway tunnel, long raven hair entered your peripheral vision. Your grip on Satoru tightened, a lump forming in your throat that it felt as though it was closing up your esophagus. The face of the lover you lost to the grim reaper a few years ago now stood in front of you. Memories of his limp body falling in your arms that nearly crushed you, your wails and screams filling every crevice of your mind. Suguru’s bloody face flashed before your eyes, bringing you back to the field of the school-- begging Satoru that it didn’t have to end this way. You blinked a few times as he approached, how was a dead man walking? You looked up at Satoru as if asking for reassurance that he too was seeing the same thing as you. His jaw was clenched, his face drained of any color, and his lip quivered slightly-- he saw him too. “You’re the one behind this?” You blurted, unable to halt the words from escaping.

Suguru smirked, he appeared to be looking around him with admiration at the chaos that the curses caused. His coffee eyes soon focused on the two of you, “I guess so,” he chuckled, he took a step closer, “Didn’t you miss me?”

Satoru dug his nails inside of his palm the longer he stared at Suguru. His features were the same as if he had never died, as if he never left his lovers. He gritted his teeth preparing his red technique, to muster the courage to do it all over again-- to end it, but he couldn’t, “My six eyes keep telling me it’s Suguru Geto, but my heart and soul know otherwise!” He hissed, the agony he felt evident in his voice.

“So observant.” He cooed. Suguru tossed a metal cube in front of you, using the shock of the situation to his advantage. The cube opened, quick to entrap your wrists and Satoru’s tightly like cuffs.

The raven haired man reached up and pulled at the stitches engraved in his forehead, pulling up his scalp to reveal Kenjaku, a curse that has the ability to use the victim's body as his own. “Someone was kind enough to leave this body for me.”

Kenjaku’s words confused you. Satoru had taken you to the crematorium after Suguru’s death, a place where they laid sorcerer's to rest. It was a small place just outside Kyoto, surrounded by cherry blossom trees. Satoru had picked this crematorium for this reason. Suguru admired the pink color, the sweet aroma the flowers brought each season. At the time he picked an apartment with a cherry blossom tree in the backyard. Every spring he would pick the flowers to make mochi, sitting outside to delight in the sweet confection with the two of you. The cherry blossom tree held a special meaning for the both of you, it was Suguru.

The white haired man had taken you by the hand, leading you to a small koi pond. A marble tombstone with Suguru’s name had come into view, a few flowers already scattered on his grave. You reached out your fingertips to trace his name, tears rolling down your face as the reality had finally set in that he was gone. You remember setting down his favorite tea and Cherry blossom mochi that you and Satoru had stayed up all night to make that wasn’t nearly as good as his. It never made sense to you as to why your husband never allowed you to have an urn with Suguru’s ashes. You had begged him, pleaded with him to let you have that last piece of him but Satoru insisted he’d be better off somewhere lovely. His ashes were placed in the ground that would one day make a cherry blossom tree.

As he stood here now, you realized Satoru had never gotten rid of Suguru’s body. That when he had instructed Shoko to take him to get cremated it had never happened. The grave you had spent hours at, talking to him, dropping him gifts-- it was empty. “What?” You choked, your eyes immediately falling on your snowy haired lover.

Satoru avoided your gaze, dropping his head to the ground ashamed that a secret he had held onto for so long had finally come to light. He had planned to tell you one day, but as time passed and visits to Suguru’s ‘grave’ became more frequent-- he couldn’t. Kenjaku tsked, “What a pity, it was quite simple to retrieve this body. Surprised you would be so weak to not tell her.”

You winced at his mocking tone, each word stung deeper than a knife. Satoru had lied to you, kept you away from resurrecting the man you each had spent decades loving. You understood Suguru’s values would never match up to your own, that his existence alone was a threat to human society, and yet, none of it mattered. The love you held in your heart for him was much greater than the mistakes he had made, than the lives he had taken. You could never see him as a monster, Suguru had always been misunderstood. “Sato-”

He shook his head, cutting you off, “How much longer are you going to let it control you, Suguru?!” Satoru called out.

Suguru’s hand began to twitch, his hand lunging forward at his own throat causing Kenjaku to laugh in amusement, “I’ve never had a body fight back before. How entertaining.”

“You’re one of the strongest, don’t let it consume you, Sugu.” You added, his hand doing anything it can to choke the curse living inside of him.

Kenjaku laughed, peeling each finger off his neck with brute force, “Times up.” The cube that had surrounded you and Satoru slowly began to close, muffling the sounds of the outside world as it entrapped you inside its prison-- each surrounding going black.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The prison realm was compact, reeking of death from the various skeletons from past prisoners that surrounded you. The bones made for an uncomfortable mattress, Satoru had laid you on top of his body to provide you some form of cushion. It was silent in the metal box that imprisoned you compared to the noisy outside world that continued with or without you, it was a bleak thought. You laid your head on your husband’s chest, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to suppress your tears, the last thing you wanted was to be near him. Your heart felt heavy in your chest almost like a fifty pound weight rested there, it ached an agonizing pain that you could barely ignore it.

Satoru’s heart steadily beat against your ear, the only other sound that could be heard besides his breaths. He held you tightly, his arm around your waist and the other moved from your hair to infront of your eyes, obscuring your vision to total darkness, “Don’t think.” He murmured.

Your lips quivered, his words setting off each emotion you felt deeply, a choked sob raking your body. A few of your tears touched the palm of his hand, Satoru’s heart stung the more you gripped his hand, whimpering like an injured puppy. It pained him to see the damage his actions had caused, he swore to himself that he would tell you the truth on Suguru’s birthday. The day you had tirelessly baked a chocolate cake for hours in the kitchen, trying to perfect it just for him. Dolling yourself up in the mirror, that day you made sure to wear Suguru’s favorite dress that he had bought for you, a white one that made you appear like an angel sent from above. When you sat at his tombstone with balloons, cake, and sunflowers, lighting up candles on the cake as you and Satoru sang him happy birthday. He promised then that he would tell you, but he never did.

He kissed the top of your head, holding his hand still over your teary eyes, providing the only darkness he knew would calm you down. It was his form of silencing the world around you, allowing you to focus on the atmosphere around you-- acknowledging each emotion you felt that you often failed to discern. “Don’t think, just focus.” Satoru instructed once more.

Another wail left your lips that caused him to wince, holding you tighter as he buried his face in your hair. A tear slid down his face as he listened to you cry, he hated himself for the agony he had caused you. Holding his wrist tighter to keep his hand as a blind fold you listened to the quiet atmosphere around you, that stench of death that made your stomach churn reminding you of the prison you were in. Trying to grasp at the emotions that overwhelmed you, “How could you do this to me?” You choked out.

Nuzzling his cheek against your hair, you could feel the wetness-- he was crying. Satoru held onto you as his life depended on it, petrified that if he let go that you would disappear and leave him alone in this cruel world. The person he loved with his entire being, the one he would sacrifice his own life for in a heartbeat because you were absolutely everything to him. He felt like an idiot for lying to you, the truth always came out, he was a fool for believing otherwise, “Baby, I’m sorry… I’m so sorry,” Satoru croaked, “I wanted to tell you, I was going to tell you but I…”

“Decided to be selfish and lie to me instead?”

“Name-”

“No, you thought I’d be reckless and bring him back,” You shoved his hand away, sitting up on him, “Didn’t you?”

Your face was flushed, sticky with tears that persisted on falling from your eyes. Your chest heaving up and down, a clear indication that you were furious at him. Satoru sat up, averting his gaze from those pretty sad eyes of yours-- he felt sick. “Look at me!” You pleaded, taking a hold of his chin to force him to look at the hurt he caused.

He placed his hands on your hips, giving them a gentle squeeze as he found the strength to muster words, “I did.”

You dropped your hand from his chin, dropping your gaze to his abdomen as you frantically wiped at your tears. He doubted you, but was he wrong? His death had affected you gravely that it took months to cope, even now you still struggled on certain days. Suguru’s birthday was the hardest date to get by, alongside the day he passed, those days you wore his clothes that had already lost his scent. You drank his favorite tea even if you preferred coffee, you just wanted to feel close to him again. Satoru clung onto you those days, he sought after your comfort-- as you did his. It was silent around your home for long periods of time, embracing each other tightly to communicate how much you missed him, to remind one another that you were still here.

Suguru’s spot in bed remained untouched, a cold spot that reminded you of the once warm body that lay there. His things never left your house, not even after you and Satoru moved to a new home, there was always a piece of him there. Thinking now, if Satoru had told you that Shoko stored his body somewhere safe you would have spent days, even months searching for it-- you’d bring him back. You had been blessed with the ability to bring those back from the dead, it didn't matter how long they were gone, if the body was well preserved you could bring them back. Playing with death would have its consequences someday, but you would have risked it for Suguru. Your husband wasn’t wrong to hide the truth from you, you couldn’t let Suguru go.

“I would have.” You chuckled bitterly, resting your forehead against Satoru’s, “I still would.”

His hand cupped your cheek, gently wiping away the fat tears that cascaded down your face, “I know.”

“I miss him, Toru.”

“Me too, baby.”

You stared up at the black sky, Kenjaku now had Suguru’s body. It was a harsh reality. While he created chaos as your deceased lover, you were locked away in a box, hoping to be rescued by the other sorcerers. The time of when you’d be free from this hell wasn’t certain nor was it definite, you relied on those outside to save you; you had faith. Once freed, it was inevitable that Satoru would fight against Kenjaku, face the reality of hurting Suguru’s body once more-- something he hadn’t forgiven himself for. “I can bring him back, once we get out… I can bring Sugu back.” You blurted.

Satoru sucked in a breath at your words, it had never left your mind to bring him back. He knew you still thought of the days where it was just the three of you, he did too. The six eyes craved to have his old life back where the raven haired man was in the picture, his gentle smile, his soft voice-- he missed it all. It sounded like a dream come true to have that life back, perhaps the old Suguru would return, at least that’s what he told himself.

His silence was deafening, “Please,” You choked, more tears fell from your eyes, “Please let me bring him back, Toru. We can eat mochi under cherry blossom trees again, just like we used to. You can drag us out of bed on snow days and I won’t complain, I promise. Then he’ll scold you for eating too many sweets and for buying candy behind his back. Please… I-” Your head fell against his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck, pleading with him over and over again.

He buried his face in your hair once more, holding the back of your head with his hand, gently rocking your bodies together. Satoru wanted that fantasy life more than anything, your promises sounded like honey. It was a life that had once been reality before Suguru disappeared to pursue his own ideals, a life that remained cherished. Satoru cried with you, biting his lip to suppress his whimpers; he knew better. Suguru had changed, too stuck in his ways, his values so engraved in his brain that it was impossible to persuade him differently. His own lovers couldn’t stray him from the society he saw fit, Suguru would return to his old ways-- Satoru would let him, neither of you would deny him that anymore and that terrified him. “We can’t.” His voice weak, the words struggled to come out almost as if he didn’t believe what he was telling you.

Your body shook with each sob that left your lips, each tear staining his navy blazer. Your husband held you tighter, silence loomed overhead as you both cried. In the end the both of you knew that your love for Suguru remained, neither of you have stopped grieving him. “I can’t let him go.” You rasped.

It was Satoru’s turn to sob, cradling your head in his hand. The rocking of your bodies pacified the emotions from causing anxiety, his body was warm— a big protective blanket that you found yourself sinking into further. A sharp pang spread through his heart as he reminisced on the past. It would be selfish to bring him back, to turn the world upside down as Satoru and you finally stood by him. He couldn’t let him go either.

Pulling back from the hug, Satoru cupped his hands on both of your cheeks, he was a selfish man. Two selfish lovers disregarding the pain of the innocent for a love unforgotten.

He had lived for others, sacrificed himself for the greater good. Satoru constantly fought tooth and nail to protect the weak, constantly worrying about you because the weak could not control their cursed energy— curses would continue to be born. But they were only human. The guilt was gnawing at him, his thoughts spiraled out of control the more he looked at his precious wife. Suguru was right, it was your turn to be happy.

“Okay, once we get out of here… let’s get our Sugu back, angel.”

Maybe it was selfish, but neither of you cared anymore. The decision had been made. When the prison realm freed you, and the battle became a gruesome bloody mess. With Kenjaku ripped from Suguru’s body, you did the only thing you knew— resurrect the man that held onto your hearts after all these years.

As he wrapped his arms around you both, holding you close. The smell of cedar wood and jasmine enveloped you like he never left, he held your dizzying body tightly that felt exhausted after using up your cursed energy for the day. Perhaps it wasn’t selfish, the long lost lover had returned, never to be separated from either of you again.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

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