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Yuji’s memory of going into Sukuna’s innate domain are fuzzy. He knows that they fought, that they talked about… something, afterwards… and that afterwards he felt a blade – Sukuna’s technique, he realizes now – slicing through his skull. And then he was awake on a cold metal table in Ieri’s office, heart once again beating in his chest.
What is clear when Yuji remembers it is the oppressive atmosphere, the air so heavy with humidity that it seemed to demand that he go on his knees. The gloominess of the place, with nothing but skulls and a ribcage overhead to denote that anything may have once been alive there aside from himself and Sukuna. And, of course, Sukuna himself, lounging on top of a mountain of skulls and staring down at him with naked contempt twisting the face that was a copy of Yuji’s.
It'd be a miserable place for anyone else, but Sukuna didn’t show any sign of discomfort there. Considering who and what he is, Yuji isn’t surprised.
Yuji didn’t go back there after that first time. He didn’t have any desire to and it seemed that Sukuna didn’t want him in there anyways.
Until tonight.
Yuji stirs from his sleep, which had been plagued by the empty space Shibuya had once occupied and the ghosts of all who had vanished with it that day. Instead of the cold slab of concrete he had chosen to curl up on when he finally surrendered to his exhaustion, his head is rested against something soft and warm. Too warm to be a pillow and the shape is wrong, too. He opens his eyes.
Sukuna stares down at him.
Yuji’s head is in his lap.
“Awake?” Sukuna’s expression is unreadable. There’s no sneer on his lips, no disdainful glint in his eyes. “Such a shame. You’re far more tolerable when you’re sleeping.”
“I’d sleep better if I wasn’t here.” Despite being cradled in the jaws of the beast, Yuji doesn’t move from where he is. He just wants Sukuna to get whatever he dragged him here for over with before snapping his neck and letting him return to his restless slumber.
Instead of responding, Sukuna moves his hand from propping his head up to hovering over Yuji’s face. But instead of cleaving through him, it lowers to cup his cheek. The hand that had been responsible for so much death and ruin is gentle against his skin. He hates it.
The thumb presses against the corner of Yuji’s mouth, against the patch of skin where it had once been split open. “That’s twice now that curse saw something of you that I missed. What kind of face were you making that made him turn tail and flee like a frightened rabbit?”
“You can ask him yourself when this is all over.”
A sharp nail digs into the scar until it pierces the thickened skin. Yuji hisses. The thumb slips past his lips and hooks into the pouch of his cheek. It tugs back harshly, baring the teeth behind the flesh. The blood the nail drew smears over Yuji’s tongue.
Sukuna’s other hand cradles the other side of Yuji’s head. A claw presses into the scar going through his brow. “I could carve into these again. Leave my marks deeper than he did. Get a glimpse at what he might have seen.”
You marked me plenty. With the thumb pulling at his mouth, Yuji can’t say those words. His heart thumps against the scar over his chest, the only evidence that there had once been a hole there.
How is what Mahito did to Yuji any different? What more did Sukuna want from him?
Sukuna leans down over Yuji like he’s going to bite his throat out. But instead, his mouth hovers over Yuji’s. His mouth parts thoughtlessly, breathing in Sukuna’s exhale. A vague sweetness dances on his tongue.
Then comes a snort. The hand holding Yuji’s head pulls away before jabbing into his side, right over where Mahito had impaled him months ago. Yuji yelps. “Even after all that happened, you still seek comfort from me? Pathetic brat.”
What feels like the blades of a food processor slice through Yuji’s body, dicing it into meat cubes that dissolve in the dismal air of Sukuna’s domain.
Before his vision goes dark and he wakes up to Choso’s worried shouts, Yuji swears he sees something like satisfaction in Sukuna’s gaze.