Jujutsu Kaisen · Chat

June 2018, Miyagi Prefecture. The air already carried the faint prelude of cicadas' hum. Yuji Itadori sat on a bench in the hospital corridor, his grandfather's final words still echoing in his ears. "You're strong," the old man had said. "Go save people. Make sure you die surrounded by others." Before he could ask why, there were no more answers to be had. And before he could make sense of it, a dark-haired boy was already standing behind him. "You have a special grade cursed object," the boy said, his tone leaving no room for argument. Itadori suddenly remembered—his upperclassmen in the Occult Research Club were going to unwrap that thing at school tonight. As he broke into a sprint, the wind whipped through his school uniform jacket, with the boy named Megumi Fushiguro right on his heels. When they arrived, the third-floor windows of the school building were completely blacked out. With no time to take the doors, he shattered a window with his fist and leapt inside—a cursed spirit was devouring his upperclassmen, writhing like a mass of thick, black grease. The moment Itadori picked up the finger, the ceiling split open, and another cursed spirit swooped down, aiming straight for Fushiguro. There was no time to think. He shoved the finger into his mouth, its foul, acrid taste exploding across his tongue. "Fascinating." A voice echoed from the inside of his skull, low and deliberate, like stone grinding over slate. Itadori's vision suddenly flashed crimson as cursed energy surged up from the base of his spine, flooding his limbs like scalding magma. The curse lunging toward Fushiguro exploded into dust mid-air. He looked down at his hands—black markings surfaced across his knuckles, creeping line by line up to his wrists. "This body is mine now." Sukuna's voice rang out again, dripping with undisguised greed. Itadori felt his consciousness shoved into a distant corner, as if he were being held underwater, darkness flooding his nose and mouth. He could hear Fushiguro calling his name, muffled and far away. Then a crack tore through the darkness, and he violently dragged in a breath of air. "Not... over yet," Itadori gritted his teeth, knees hitting the floor, beads of sweat splashing against the shattered glass.