Chapter Text
Strangling myself has never sounded like a better idea. Seriously? Dying from tripping down the stairs? Only old people die like that, not teenagers.
At least the afterlife is nice. A large, full moon, the kind you only see in shows, hangs in the star-speckled night sky. A gentle breeze hugs my body, a pleasant coolness in the air nipping at my skin. Sure, there had been a weird pressure squeezing my body at first, but the view totally made it worth it. Besides, it was probably part and parcel of being transported here.
Reluctantly turning away from the moon, another figure on the concrete floor I stood on caught my attention. Familiar spiky hair, along with sharp green eyes and an abundance of blood flowing down his face.
Did someone die in JJK cosplay? Kind of unfortunate, imagine dying in a halloween costume and being stuck with it for the rest of your death. A giggle involuntarily slips from my lips. Huh, this kind of looks like what I'd imagine the start of all those SIkuna fanfics to be like.
…wait.
Looking down, black tattoos circle around my strangely muscular arms. An atrociously bright yellow hoodie covers my body.
Nahhhh, this is definitely some weird coma dream. I'll probably wake up in the ICU soon. I’ve been reading too much of those types of fanfictions lately, it’s no surprise it would begin to infect my subconscious. Then again, that’s exactly how some of the protagonists of those fics tried to explain their situations, right? This does feel weirdly realistic.
…yeah, no. I'm not gonna think about it. Kind of absurd that I’m actually entertaining the thought that this is real. Damned head trauma.
“What do you think you’re doing with my body? Give it back.” A hand, my hand, reaches up and latches onto my neck. I suppress a shiver. It feels so tangible, like it's physically there, and it’s throwing me off.
“Hello?” That foreign voice rings out again.
Oh yeah, the body.
How does this work again? There’s a presence at the back of my mind. Maybe if I tug at it here- okay that’s not working. “Uh, give me a moment.”
The presence shifts slightly and wow, does that feel weird. The hand grasping at my our neck moves back down to our side. I latch onto the intrusion in my mind, causing it to struggle slightly. Sending a mental apology across, I pull it to the front as hard as I can. A rapidly fading cry is the last I hear from Itadori as I plunge into the innate domain.
I land into Sukuna’s domain with a splash, the unpleasant sensation of wet fabric sticking to my skin. The white kimono that Sukuna wore, now soaked from the abrupt landing in the blood pool, hangs heavily from my body, weighing it down. My skin feels wrong, wrong, wrong but yet so right, right, right. I elect to ignore it for now, and start making my way to the towering throne of bovine skulls in the distance. Fortunately, the pool is most likely heavily diluted blood. I don’t think I would be able to stand it if I had to deal with wading through sticky blood every time I wanted to explore the domain.
But not-so-fortunate is the stench. Even if the blood pool is mostly water, it’s still a lot of blood. It’s not the first time I curse my slightly higher than average sense of smell. Even when I cover my nose with the sleeve of the kimono, the toxic, cloying iron tang still manages to make my head spin. It clings to my tongue when I try to breathe through my mouth, making the feeling worse. How did OG Sukuna manage to live like this?
I sit at the base of the throne instead of on top of it when I reach it. I’d rather not get poked in the ass by a horn, no thanks. Echoing throughout the domain, the conversation that I’ve read several times plays out.
“Huh, Gojo-sensei, what are you doing here?”
“I wasn’t planning on showing up, but you got kind of roughed up. I’m sending this to the second-years. Say cheese!”
Oh, Gojo is here. OH MY GOD GOJO IS HERE. I’m not prepared to face that guy, no matter how much I like him. Do I try to pretend to be Sukuna? I’ve already acted out of character by giggling like a schoolgirl earlier, though that could be excused as evil laughter or something. I also willingly gave up the body to Itadori, how am I supposed to explain that? Why am I even thinking this hard, isn’t this just a dream?
“Can you swap with Sukuna?”
“Sukuna?”
“Yeah, the owner of the finger you ate.”
“Oh. Yeah, I think I can do that. He’s sort of freaking out right now, though.”
Something prods at my mind. Fuck, I spent too much time panicking and forgot about our mental connection. I need an excuse fast-! “Uh, I’m in the bathroom right now!”
“He says he’s using the bathroom.”
…
“...hah?”
What kind of excuse is that? Curses can’t even do that! Despite the lack of audience, I can’t help but cover my face with my hands in embarrassment. To whatever god is out there, please free me from this dream already.
“I wasn’t aware that curses needed to shit, but you learn something new everyday! Tell his majesty to make it quick.”
Oh my god it just keeps getting worse and worse. A pathetic whine leaves my throat.
“I think he’s embarrassed, Gojo-san…”