Chapter Text
January 20th 2006 .
11:35 A.M.
Few things caught his eye. When the ever turning universe laid open like a book, free to read whenever you wished, few things captured your attention. In a way, it was a lucky thing. It prevented him from being caught up in the frivolities of beauty, especially people. But, amidst the gray landscape of winter over Tokyo, the glasswork had caught his eye in a way few other things had.
It was a delicate flower, crowned by a tiny glass sparrow, its petals altering from pink to red depending on the angle he looked at it from. Even dust molecules, usually permeating most art left on a shelf for too long, didn’t diminish its beauty. It was exquisite, simply said. What would it be good for? A paperweight? A desk trinket? Something so pretty and delicate needed to have a bigger purpose than just decoration. But an utilitarian use also didn’t seem to fit. Something so pretty and delicate would break easily.
Maybe it existed just to gaze upon from the street.
“You are transfixed today,”
Gojo looked up at Suguru, wrapped in winter clothes, looking miserably boring. It was his least favorite season; Suguru claimed the slow activity of winter made him feel useless, purposeless. Pious crap, but Gojo had learned to put up with it, enjoy it almost.
“It’s nice glasswork, look,” he pointed at the flower, pouting. “What’s it called?”
“Glass flowers,” Suguru replied. “With a bird on top.”
Gojo gave him a flat look. “Ha, ha, the flower, the flower!”
“I don’t know,” Suguru flipped open his phone, frowning, his attention drawn away from the delicate artwork. “It’s not like you to get transfixed on pretty things.”
“Well, most people around us are ugly as fuck and wrinkling,” Gojo snorted. “Is it bad to want to look at something pretty?”
“I guess not…” Suguru frowned again.
“Okay, what’s going on?” Gojo straightened, leaning over his shoulder to try and see the phone screen. “Oh, a call for help?”
“It seems things got a little rowdy,”
“Where?”
“Disneyland.”
“Disneyland? What a surprise!” Gojo’s voice started low, but soon, his laughter acquired a crescendo, his face full of delight. A few heads turned in his direction, but that didn’t matter. He was almost giddy. Because he knew who had been sent to Disneyland. He’d made a joke about missions given out of pity to weak sorcerers, quite literally, four hours ago.
“What have we said about picking on her?”
“You heard her! I take all my missions seriously , Gojo, and I didn’t ask for your commentary or your help, ” Gojo’s voice became high-pitched as he repeated what she’d said. He rested his body weight against Suguru, turning off his Infinity for the sake of the joke. “They could be hiding in the teacups, Suguru! But who’s going to think about the churro truck, eh, Suguru? Who?”
“It seems it’s more serious than they thought,” Suguru sighed.
Gojo stepped back, rolling his eyes. “With Utahime, a broken toe is more serious than we thought. Let the grown-ups handle the teacup curses.”
Suguru didn’t look up from his phone. “It’s in Critter Country.”
Gojo’s laughter came alive again. He’d been to Critter Country once, as a child. “Yo, imagine getting overpowered in Critter Country. In the winter!”
“Apparently, it’s a grade one situation, not two, like they thought,”
Gojo’s laughter died down. He turned on his Infinity again. He wiped a tear, a result from the laughter, from his eye. “What else?”
“They suspect it might be a metamorphing curse. Multiple people trapped beyond an ice barrier,”
“Ok, interesting, on a theme with winter,” Gojo snorted. “Critter Country.”
“She’s not alone,” Suguru said.
“Who’s the poor soul that went to babysit her?” Gojo asked, although he could make a guess. Mei had worked a couple of missions with her since she’d finished school, and there were other sleazebags among the higher ranks of jujutsu society who would love to take a recent graduate under their wing. “Oh, is it that guy Kyo again?”
“Unidentified technique,” Suguru said, sounding quite surprised himself. “Either Utahime had a secret skill, or she just found herself a curse user.”
Gojo sighed. A power-up was unlikely when it came to her. As lovely as her technique looked when it came alive, she was a far cry from a promotion. Maybe in the future, if miracles existed. “I’m intrigued. How quick can we get there?”
“You want to help her?” Suguru said, smiling in surprise.
Gojo paused. “Nah. I’m going because if she dies in Critter Country, I’ll never be able to make fun of her for getting trapped in Critter Country.” he grinned. “And that would be a tragedy.”
Suguru shook his head, amused. “Tell her that after you save her.”
“Only after we confirm the churro truck survived.”
January 20th 2006 .
11:55 A. M.
Silence permeated the air, and the non sorcerers trapped with her were either dead or hoping hiding would save them. This was not a domain -if it had been, they’d all be dead by now- but it was the strangest thing she’d ever seen. The curse possessing Disney statues, yes, that was likely. But it should not have been able to raise the ice wall around the log flume…right? Maybe there were multiple curses.
Utahime didn’t have enough experience to deal with this alone.
In her years in the jujutsu world, she’d never encountered a situation so odd and horrifying. Then again, it seemed that lately, curses held many more horrors in store for sorcerers. When she was a child, she had not ever imagined having seen so many dead bodies. She was just a skip and a hop away from nineteen; she had been planning her birthday party two days ago. She should not have been given this responsibility.
In all fairness, she had not been sent alone, as it was customary for sorcerers who had recently left Jujutsu High and worked towards a rank promotion.
Her partner, Kyo Hayashi, was a talented, grade one sorcerer. Strong, tall, funny and devoted to making her a better sorcerer, he’d been the best teacher she could ever hope for. She’d seen Kyo’s head fly off his body ten minutes ago, though. The fountain of blood had splattered her clothes, and she’d slipped on it as she ran away from the twisted, possessed Mickeys that had come alive within the ice barrier.
But Kyo wasn’t the only dead; so, perhaps, the blood on her clothes also belonged to the other victims scattered throughout Critter Country.
The realization hit her.
She was going to die in Critter Country.
“Fuck,” Utahime said.
Gathering her thoughts was the best thing she could do.
Her name was Utahime Iori. She was eighteen, a few weeks from her nineteenth birthday. She had played baseball in middle school. She had moved to Tokyo to study at Jujutsu Technical School, after the most traumatic incident of her young life (then, because this had to take the cake). Her technique wasn’t the strongest, but she was disciplined, and trained in combat. Kyo Hayashi thought she had talent.
She had recently discovered she liked beer. She liked following rules. She wanted to become stronger, a grade one sorcerer. She’d accepted more missions because the stipend the school gave her only covered students four months after departure, and this was the career course that seemed more profitable. Kyo Hayashi had believed in her ability to become a grade one.
They’d been promised a grade two curse. This was, all in all, a shiny, grade one. She’d heard it before, in classes and from other mentors, with a grade one, even a tank might be insufficient. She’d never dealt with one before.
And yet, and yet! The curse was not the biggest of her worries.
“My English is not good!” she told the trembling girl. She was young, fifteen at the most, and she was also covered in blood.
One scream from this kid, high-pitched and almost melodic, caused by a terrifying, possessed Mickey, and the boy who had been holding her hand had been yanked away, as if cut loose from gravity, straight into the air. He’d landed violently, fast, enough to make something crack and splatter. Most of the blood on the girl’s hair had belonged to said boy. She had screamed in terror, which had caused another possessed statue to catch fire.
Utahime had darted across the first opening she saw, and crouched with the girl behind a churro truck.
“My name is Utahime Iori!” she whispered, hoping to not draw attention to them. The curse had taken the shape of a Disney character that maybe, maybe, was Donald Duck. Donald, distorted and oozing green liquid, controlled the possessed statues scattered throughout the area.
Luckily, it was the winter and Critter Country’s main attraction was the log flume, so not many people had been killed –which probably meant the curse would seek to expand the ice hellscape it had created.
Utahime was going to die in Critter Country.
“English?” she snapped her fingers in front of the girl, and she turned to look at her, her eyes glossy with tears, some of the boy’s brain matter in her hair. Sure, some would call her a curse user. To Utahime, this girl was a late bloomer. Utahime knew plenty about that. Alright, it was time to dust off her English, praying the girl spoke it. “Is your cursed technique sound-based? Mine is too.”
“Cursed…technique?” the girl said, confused.
“Ok, late bloomer,” Utahime nodded, switching back to English. “You’re not a jujutsu sorcerer?”
“Juju? What? Did we both go insane?”
“Maybe,” Utahime said. “What’s your name?”
“Seiri,”
A Japanese name. That was odd, because the girl didn’t look it. Maybe she had otaku parents. Not that it mattered now. “What you did there…how did you do it?”
“What?”
“You manipulated the odds,” Utahime crouched low, shielding the girl instinctively, though her own hands were trembling. “That Mickey should’ve crushed you. And then the other caught fire in here, with the cold. Did you set that off?”
The girl blinked, still catching her breath. “I didn’t mean to.”
Utahime looked at the blood on the ground, then back at her. “You’re telling me you did all that on accident ?”
“Maybe?” Seiri looked at her. “Are we in hell?”
“Not quite, we can get out of this one,” Utahime maybe was going half mad. But it was either following the plan that had sprouted in her mind, or dying in Critter Country. And she knew who would have a field day with that knowledge. The taunting would haunt her into her next life. “I’m not gonna let you die here, okay?”
“My Japanese is not good!” Seiri cried.
The language gap would not make things easy. The ice wall had dropped the temperature down fifteen degrees on top of the wind chill of Tokyo’s winter. If the curse didn’t find them, the cold would kill them. Utahime moved to peek at their surroundings beyond the churro truck. She could see the thrice-damned Donald Duck from where they hid. They needed to save whoever was still hiding, but she couldn’t ensure their safety if the kid went berserk.
On the other hand, they needed to keep the curse from expanding the ice wall.
This required quick thinking. This required the decision making skills of a skilled sorcerer. Utahime trusted her wits, but she was not a professional yet. Having shared a few years with the true golden boys of sorcery, she’d come to the conclusion she was on the normal side of things. Not meant for genetically transferred greatness.
Maybe she was not meant for greatness. But she was not meant to die in Critter Country.
“Listen!” She grabbed the girl by the shoulders. If they could replicate what had killed that girl’s boyfriend, then they could maybe ensure the ice wall breaking. It could mean her and the kid’s death, too. But it was a risk she didn’t mind taking. They were dead anyways if they didn’t act, and at least this way she would die with some fight still in her. “Listen, Seiri. When I tell you, you’re going to look at that Donald Duck, and scream as loud as you can!”
“How is that going to help?” the girl asked, trembling.
“It will, I promise it will save us!” She lied. “Just make sure you look at the duck when you scream.”
“What?” Seiri looked at Utahime, but she was already focused on her chant. “Why are you singing? What the fuck is going on?!”
“Look at me,” she grabbed the girl by the neck of her shirt. She spoke in slow English, partly because she wanted to ensure the girl understood, partly because she also was terrified and didn’t want to end up screaming. “If you want to make it alive, you’ll let me do my chant. When I tell you, you’re going to scream as high-pitched as you can, and you’re going to aim for the motherfucking duck.”
Seiri nodded, terrified. The cursed energy in the air felt heavy, pressing down like a storm. Her eyes locked onto the girl’s, unwavering, as the words came out slow and deliberate. With a deep breath, Utahime let go of her, her body swayed ever so slightly, as if drawn into the rhythm of the chant, coaxing her cursed technique to increase whatever abilities had awoken in the kid.
“Oh, sweet Lord,” she heard the girl cry. “That is warm. Like mom is hugging me. What are you doing to me?”
Utahime nodded; it was working. She’d practiced her technique on Shoko before, and she’d had the same reaction. The increase in power was delightful, Shoko had said, like a breeze on a hot summer day. A mother’s hug was a new way to describe it. Utahime kept chanting; every syllable uttered was wrapped in cursed energy. She still didn’t have a strong hold on her technique, and without music and dance, she could only ensure a 95% output for a minute, tops. But that would be enough. It had to be.
“Seiri…”
“Yes?”
Utahime made a mental note to apologize for what she was about to say. She wasn’t sure if it was more for Seiri’s sake or for the technique’s sake, but she had to make sure it hit deep. “Does it hurt, how your boyfriend died?”
The girl cried without response.
“I want you to put all that pain into your voice. I want you to scream. And I want you to do it now,” Crying and trembling, Seiri stood and moved away from the truck. Utahime stood alongside her; because it wouldn’t have been fair if she hadn’t. She held onto the girl’s shoulder, chanting all the way, and prayed for this to work. When Seiri let out her earth-shattering scream, the air seemed to split with such force that time itself stuttered.
At first, it was as if the world was suspended in time. Then, before Utahime’s eyes, cursed energy around them warped, twisted. The ice wall, once stable, trembled and cracked. The possessed Mickeys faltered, their movements uncoordinated. One of them came undone in what might have been ribbons, another simply was pressed against the ground, crushed by gravity.
“We broke it,” Utahime said, holding onto Seiri, forcing her to crawl under the churro truck, as if that would protect them.
“What did we break?” the girl cried, her voice raspy. “What happened?”
A cursed figure that had been charging toward them veered off course, turning into dust. A nearby ice shard ricocheted wildly across the clearing, its path defying all logic. Utahime didn’t let go. She couldn’t let go. But she could feel the surge of energy that had been unleashed. Chaos at its finest: not luck, but a break in the chain of cause and effect.
And it would hit them soon. Alright, maybe she wouldn’t die in Critter Country, because this wasn’t it at all. This was the land of impossibility, where gravity could crush a possessed Mickey one second, or send its limbs flying in different directions. Maybe, the end would be fast, Utahime thought as Seiri crawled into her arms, sobbing silently. Fast, just like it had been for Kyo.
Suddenly, the churro cart, and the ground under them, went up in the air. Utahime didn’t want this to be the end, but she would accept it with dignity.
“You did well!” Utahime assured the kid, holding her against her chest. She’d never been motherly, but even she could not deny that her distressed expression tugged the strings of her heart. “We’re alive! We’re safe now. We’ll be fine.”
Again, she was lying. But what harm would it cause, to give the girl some peace before their death? Utahime closed her eyes. She would have liked seeing her friends again, or at least to have made it to summer. The gray days of winter always felt like they stretched on forever. She’d always been much fonder of the light blue of the summer sky.
“Look at that!” a familiar voice made her open her eyes, and then Utahime realized she was not being torn apart by gravitational forces, but floating in what she guessed was the idiot’s Infinity. She searched for his face, and saw him standing next to the dead carcass of the curse. Next to him was the other idiot, looking at the dead Donald Duck with a frown. Gojo Satoru threw his arms in the air when her gaze met his. “Utahime, you actually saved a churro truck!”