Chapter Text
“Sukuna? Can you promise me something, darling?”
Sukuna didn’t want to leave the security of his mother’s arms. She had become so tired lately, she could barely hold a full conversation anymore. But he sat up and tilted his head for a moment before catching himself. (It was such a childish thing to do, he was almost twelve. Not to mention it was unbecoming of a king.)
The room was warm. Far too warm with summer on the horizon. But with his mother’s fever out of control, her comfort came first. The slit curtains allowed a sliver of afternoon light to enter, but he’d seen enough of his mother these past few weeks to know what she looked like. He tried to ignore her sunken cheeks, her pale skin, her dull eyes and hair. As if her very soul was fading day by day. But he didn't dare break eye contact and busied himself with picking at the sheet’s hem.
His mother cradled a sleeping Yuuji in her arms as if he were her own pup. As if she had labored and birthed and nursed him as she did with Sukuna. And he clung to her all the same. And maybe some innate part of Sukuna should feel jealousy and resentment at some foreign pup coming in and claiming what should’ve been rightfully his. Many alphas would’ve forced their omega sibling into submission. Would’ve made them recognize that they were inferior. But even then, Sukuna recognized that Yuuji wasn’t an ordinary omega. Even with sickness clouding her lungs, his mother had displayed an omega’s true strength time and time again.
“Yes, of course,” he said.
Her breath rattled in her chest. “There’s two things I would like for you to do.”
“Anything.” He leaned forward with rapt attention. He would do anything for his mother. For the woman who protected them and endured his father’s wrath in their place time and time again.
“Please look after Yuuji,” she said. “I know he’s only been here for a few years, but he looks up to you. Not only for protection, but for guidance.”
Guide him? In doing what? They were only three years apart and still learning what it meant to be royalty. What could Sukuna possibly teach him that their father hadn’t already—?
His mother cupped his cheek and smiled. Her hand was cold. He missed her warmth. “Don’t worry.”
“I’m not worried.”
Her smile widened and Sukuna’s cheeks flamed. “You forget who you’re talking to, darling. You may be able to fool your father with your words, but not me. I’m your mother, after all.”
Sukuna could definitely argue—he hated being so transparent, so vulnerable (it was frowned upon heavily for someone in his position)—but there was no point. “How am I supposed to guide him, Mother? I…”
Sukuna looked at Yuuji’s sleeping face. If this was his father he was speaking to… or rather, the king, he’d never show such hesitation. He’d accept the task at hand without a second thought. But the queen…
She was, and always would be, safe.
“I know this is a daunting task, and with how stubborn Yuuji can be sometimes it may very well be. But you’re already succeeding and you don’t even realize it.”
“What do you mean?”
“I often see him following you around. Mimicking you. Not to mention that he’s told me countless times he wants to be just like his big brother,” the queen said. “His grandfather aside, you are who he looks to when he needs something. And you are going to be the one he seeks when he’s in trouble.”
Sukuna stayed quiet.
She sighed. “I know your father has his own plans to carve Yuuji into how he sees fit. To smother the light within and turn him into a hardened warrior. But you and I both know that while Yuuji is strong, he is also very kind and gentle. The way you protected him from your father showed me you realized that, too.”
He nodded. Seeing his younger brother doubled over in pain on the training mat, vomit spewing from his mouth, defenseless against their father’s might… it angered him. And that anger spurred him to act. His dormant alpha instincts definitely helped, and that may be the reason his father would rather hear, but Sukuna knew, deep down, that he’d grown to care for the runt that suddenly showed up at the castle just a few short years ago.
Sukuna chewed on his lip. “I can’t protect him forever, Mother. Yuuji… he’ll need to learn how to fight his own battles.”
“So teach him how. Your father’s way is cruel and unjust. You know that as well as I do. But you can teach him what he needs to know. You can be the role model he needs.” She carded her fingers through Yuuji’s hair. The hair that matched Sukuna’s own. “As my first son, I know what I’m asking of you. And I’m sure you find it unfair. I would do it myself, but I may not be in this world for much longer. And I need to know that you and your brother will be safe.”
“Don’t talk like that! Ieiri’s mother is the best doctor in the country. You could get better!”
“I pray for that every day, darling. Know that there’s nothing I want more in life than to be with you and your brother and that I have no intention of giving up fighting.” Her weak smile returned. “I’m just trying to ensure that you and Yuuji will be taken care of. So unless something happens to me, I won’t ask you to keep that promise. Is that okay?”
Sukuna nodded. Yeah, he could do that. “What was the other thing you wanted me to do?”
The queen stared up at the ceiling as if to gather her thoughts. It was a moment before she spoke again. “For the last nine years of your life, your father has tried to poison your opinions of omegas. And for the last nine, I’ve done my best to prove him wrong.”
Sukuna knew all too well the lies his father had told him.
Omegas were weak and insignificant and must obey an alpha—or even a beta—in all things. They had no opinion. They had no voice or choice. They weren’t good for anything except having babies and… satisfying others. He wasn’t stupid. Or oblivious. He knew what that meant. (He’d heard the alpha guards more than once talk about visiting an omega brothel and going into explicit detail about what they’d do.)
But Sukuna knew all too well the truths his mother had shown him.
Omegas were strong and important and were often forced to obey an alpha—or even a beta—in all things. They had an opinion. They had a voice and choice. They were good for things other than having babies and satisfying others—working collaboratively and resourcefully, mediating, and protecting their pack. His mother had displayed her protective instincts more than once. She had even told him of one instance where her mother—his grandmother—sent an alpha running for the hills when they crossed one too many boundaries.
They could do everything an alpha or beta could.
And even if she hadn’t done everything in her power to change his perspective on omegas, Yuuji certainly would’ve.
The queen looked at him. “There will come a day in the future that you will have to follow the law and bond with an omega before your 25th birthday. There’s not much I can do in terms of that. All I ask is that you treat your omega kindly. Treat them with respect and love. Do not underestimate them.” She chuckled. “Though, I’m almost positive you won’t choose an omega that is anything short of fierce. And I wish that you find exactly who is right for your soul.”
Sukuna recently learned about the law that sealed another aspect of his future. And even if he didn’t want an omega, he knew he’d have to take one. But his mother was right. He doesn’t want a meek, feeble omega who bows to his every whim.
His omega will be strong. Independent. Fierce.
“I promise,” he said.
Ryoumen Sukuna is the king.
The king of this lush, rich, and thriving land. He is a king that is revered but also one that is feared. He provides for his subjects, and thus they know to be grateful. He protects his people from harm, and thus they know to never cross him. And those who are ungrateful or cross him meet a swift and (sometimes) painless end.
He is the king.
He is the alpha.
And throughout heaven and earth, he alone is the honored one.
As soon as the curtain dissolves, Gojo disappears and flashes of blue and red burn in the distance, and now that all civilians have been escorted within the castle walls, it’d be of little consequence to decimate their enemies with a few bursts of purple. Structures could always be rebuilt. Foliage could be replanted.
And now with Gojo and whatever unfortunate soul is in his path occupied, Sukuna homes in on the unmistakable cursed energy that is Zen’in Naobito. But before he can move, before he can even take his next breath, pain ricochets in his chest, near his heart, and he almost doubles over.
“Sukuna-sama!” Uraume is by his side in an instant.
Sukuna clutches at his chest, steadying his breathing and sweat curls along his jawline. “I’m fine. It’s…” he pauses. “It’s not me.” Takes one deep breath. Takes two.” “It’s…”
Megumi.
Megumi’s… in danger.
He’s dying.
His alpha instincts flare to life and it takes everything in him to form a coherent thought through the haze. Omega. Save him. In danger. Dying. Go now. Hurry. Save him. Save him, savehimsavehimsavehim—
“Go back to the castle.” He pants. “Right now. Tell Ieiri that…”
Uraume nods. “I understand, Your Majesty. We will have everything prepared.” And then they’re gone in an instant.
Sukuna straightens, ignoring the pain strangling his soul, and forgoes the abominable stench of Naobito’s cursed energy and flares out his senses. He searches. Searches for the unmistakable aura of his mate. Different cursed energies bounce back at him—Nanami’s, Gojo’s, Inumaki’s, Kugisaki’s, cursed spirits and the soldiers fighting them and—
There!
Megumi’s energy was just a few miles away from the town center.
With Yuuji’s and Okkotsu’s and…
There’s a howl. It’s long, mournful, and it lasts all of five seconds before it abruptly stops. And Megumi’s cursed energy flickers from a fiery beacon to a mere ember.
He doesn’t remember moving. Doesn’t remember how much time passes. All he knows is that now he’s kneeling beside Megumi, noting Yuuji’s and Okkotsu’s wide and wild eyes as they press their hands against Megumi’s chest.
There’s blood everywhere.
On Yuuji’s and Okkotsu’s hands, their clothes, droplets of it smeared on their faces.
Spreading even further along Megumi’s clothing.
Pooling and staining the ground beneath him.
Even as he approaches, Yuuji and Okkotsu don’t move. They keep their hands on Megumi’s chest despite the fact the cloth they’re gripping is soaked through.
As a king, and even before then, Sukuna has seen carnage, and has rendered the earth itself red. He has stained it so permanently with the blood of his foes that the battlefields remained the color of it. He had come to love the various shades of red.
And as he kneels beside Megumi, as he caresses his mate’s cheek that’s gone cool and pale, as the faint breaths Megumi takes grow even fainter, his mind has been changed.
Red isn’t such a lovely color anymore.
“Your Majesty—” Okkotsu starts.
“Move,” Sukuna orders, and Yuuji and Okkotsu scramble back.
He places his hands to Megumi’s chest, coating them in that awful, nauseating red, and he senses the width of the injury, the depth of it. There’s a trace of Okkotsu’s cursed energy lingering on Megumi’s wound, and a glance at the burns on Okkotsu’s arms tells everything Sukuna needs to know. And Sukuna will make sure that Okkotsu is rewarded for his efforts.
Once he’s certain of the severity, cursed energy surges through him, humming in his veins. He pours everything he has into the wound, not caring if he spends every last drop and kills himself in the process.
Megumi will live.
Sukuna will see to that.
The cursed energy starts to work, threading flesh and bone, and color slowly returns to Megumi’s cheeks, that soft rose hue he knows and loves.
“I’m almost positive you won’t choose an omega that is anything short of fierce,” his mother had said.
I’ve found him, Mother. I’ve found the one the heavens have destined for me. I’ve found the one you spoke of. He is fierce and honest and true. He is everything I’ve wanted. He is everything you wished for me.
The cursed energy works until Megumi’s chest is clean and clear. Until his heart beats once more with the same strength that Sukuna has come to know and love.
Megumi’s alive.
Megumi is alive and…
Sukuna caresses Megumi’s cheek. Feels warmth. Feels life. He waits for Megumi’s beautiful green eyes to open. And waits and waits and waits and…
…he’s not waking up.
Megumi’s not…
Sukuna lifts Megumi into his arms, carefully, ever so gently, and he’s already inside the castle gate. The guards and servants milling about startle at his presence but quickly relax, and Uraume is already waiting.
“Ieiri and some of her team are waiting for you, Your Majesty,” they say.
Sukuna hurries to their bedroom and finds that, yes, Ieiri and a few of her attendees are already there. He places Megumi on the bed, and everything pases in a blur after that.
They check his temperature, his pulse, for any other injuries—internal and external, and Megumi remains unconscious the entire duration of it. And with each passing minute, Ieiri looks more perplexed and Sukuna grows more restless. He watches them work, watches them take notes and talk amongst themselves.
And after what seems like hours, Ieiri finally sighs. And the expression on her face offers no more answers than he’s hoping for. “Megumi is, for all intents and purposes, alive. Your reverse cursed technique stitched up everything and likely replaced any lost blood. He’s made a complete and full recovery. However…”
“What is it?” Sukuna says.
“We’re not entirely sure why he isn’t waking up. Everything is normal. There aren’t any internal injuries that we know of. Not to mention your cursed energy would’ve taken care of it.” She glances at the chart in her hand. “Perhaps the stress of the injury and the rapid healing took too much of a toll on his body.”
“And do you know when he’ll wake?”
Ieiri shakes her head. “Unfortunately not. Only time will tell.” She bows along with the attending healers behind her. “I apologize we weren’t of more use, Your Majesty.”
“No. You’ve done enough.” Sukuna shakes his head and sits at the edge of the bed, taking Megumi’s hand in his own. “You all may leave now. Tend to the rest of the injured.”
They bow one final time before they leave Sukuna with his unconscious mate.
And while Sukuna has the universe in his hands, his world has stopped turning.
So he waits.
He’ll wait as long as he needs to.
**
Yuuji hates waiting.
For years, he had been kept waiting.
Waiting for his father to acknowledge him as something other than an omega. Waiting for his mother to recover. Waiting for his birth mother to return.
He absolutely hates it.
But he will do what he must.
It takes Yuuji a moment to gather his bearings.
He breathes. Lets the dust settle on the ground and in his lungs.
One minute, Sukuna is there—stitching up Megumi with a level of fear in his eyes Yuuji didn’t think was possible. And in the next, he was gone, whisking Megumi away without a word. To Ieiri most likely. Because Yuuji had witnessed life brought back to Megumi. Only to have no response.
His instincts scratch at and whisper in the back of his head. Pack. Help pack. Help him. Help. Help.
I can’t, he reminds himself. He couldn’t do any sort of reversed cursed techniques, and even if he could he wouldn’t be able to help Megumi.
He glances at Okkotsu who’s rubbing the burns on his arms. Yes, the markings on Megumi’s wrist and neck would make sure of that.
Not to mention he has next to no medical knowledge. He’d just be in the way. And if something happens to Megumi because he had some delusions of assistance… he’d never be able to forgive himself. And he’s sure Sukuna wouldn’t either.
He turns to Fushiguro Toji who insofar hadn’t moved from the Black Flash Yuuji dealt straight to his chest. The man who abandoned his best friend at a shelter. Who had barely shown an ounce of affection to his children and left for days on end and assassinated high profile names to rake in money.
In his young life, there were very few people Yuuji hated. He could count on one hand how many.
But Fushiguro Toji…
Yuuji didn't think he could hate anyone more than his own father.
He—
There’s a ripple, a murmur of cursed energy that Yuuji knows all too well. Hardly anything else would churn his stomach.
“Your Highness,” Okkotsu says. “Are you alright? I can treat any injuries you have.”
Yuuji shakes his head. The poison had finally cleared from his system, and aside from a few cuts and bruises there was nothing that needed attention. “I’m fine. There’s more pressing matters we need to take care of.” He sets his gaze on the trees. “Like that bastard Naobito who’s trying to make a quiet getaway.”
Okkotsu follows Yuuji’s gaze and unsheathes his sword a bit. “Rika.”
The cursed spirit materializes and screeches as it disappears into the trees. There’s screaming, flesh tearing, until it dies away. Naobito emerges from the trees, dodging Rika’s claws and skids to a stop on the opposite side of Yuuji and Okkotsu and a few paces in front of a still unconscious Toji.
Rika howls, charging towards Naobito until Okkotsu calls her back.
“The hell are you doing here, Naobito?” Yuuji demands.
“I was merely searching the woods for any cursed spirits, Your Highness. To ensure the safety of everyone, especially you and His Majesty.”
“Cut the shit. You don’t do anything unless it benefits you. And gods know how long you were hiding. So I will ask again: what are you doing here?”
Naobito starts. “Your Highness—”
“I will not ask a third time.”
Naobito remains silent.
“Much unlike my brother, I am infinitely more patient,” Yuuji says. He doesn’t use his status often to get what he wants, especially when everything he’s ever wanted has been, more or less, handed to him (some things notwithstanding). But right now he has no issue using his title as prince to wring the truth out of someone like Zen’in Naobito, and he knows Okkotsu is all too eager to obey any order he’ll give. “Unfortunately, many have started to take that patience as complacency. As if I won’t make an example out of them. Would you care to be the first person on my list?”
Naobito’s expression is inscrutable.
Yuuji waits. Watches.
Growing up in the court where most people wanted to either con him or kill him, he had to learn how to decipher faces and quickly. And Sukuna always said that no matter how hard people tried, they would be unable to mask their desires, their innate truths.
Sukuna was content to carve those truths out of them. But in all his years of standing in the shadows, Yuuji had learned to be patient. Had learned to use his words to play them like a violin.
They will always yield, as humans so often do. In the most minute ways. Even when they don’t really want to.
Naobito is no different.
It doesn’t take long for the head of the Zen’in family to glance behind him.
Okkotsu catches it as well. “So. That was your plan all along.”
Naobito raises an eyebrow.
“You were after Lord Fushiguro. Because he’s a member of your clan and bears the technique you all so desperately want.” Okkotsu continues. “Lord Inumaki and I had our suspicions ever since you showed up for the festival when you haven’t done so in many years.” He chuckles bitterly, and Rika rumbles beside him. “And we should’ve guessed that you’d want Lord Fushiguro’s father dead. He’s just a loose end for you to tie up. A pawn moved off the board.” He places a hand on Rika in what Yuuji assumes is to placate her. “You can stop me at any point if I’m lying.”
The Zen’in elder remains unfazed. “I do not answer to you, boy.”
“No, but you do answer to His Highness. And you have failed to do so repeatedly. Twice, in fact.”
“Tell me the truth,” Yuuji says.
Naobito sighs. But it sounds more disappointed than contrite. “I truly hoped I had more time. But it seems like we’ll be speeding things along.” His gaze hardens. “Yes, Your Highness, taking Megumi for ourselves was the goal. He would’ve made a very fine addition to our clan. A strong and fertile omega who bears the Ten Shadows Technique? There isn’t a better recipe for bearing prime offspring. We need not but a few months before he’d be with child. Or children, rather.”
Yuuji snarls. “You disgusting bastard—!”
“It would honestly make things so much easier if you’d just ask your brother to hand him over.” Naobito carries on. “We can tend to his injuries back at our compound.”
“Over my dead body,” Yuuji says.
The elder shakes his head. As if he was disappointed. “Honestly, I thought you’d be a lot easier to negotiate with than your brother who usually swings the ax first and asks questions later. But I can see you’ve grown quite attached to our omega heir.” His gaze bores into Yuuji’s. “Need I remind you that he belongs to our family. We have every right to take him home.”
“Not without my brother’s express written permission, you don’t,” Yuuji says, cursed energy burning in his veins just begging to be released. “And even if he wasn’t my brother’s mate, he is his own person. He makes his own choices. No one else.”
Naobito clasps his hands behind his back. “And to think there has been so much bloodshed today. It would truly be a shame for there to be more.”
Okkotsu’s eyes barrow. “What’re you talking about?”
“As we speak, my men are stationing themselves within the castle and throughout the land waiting for me to give the order to stand down,” Naobito says. “If they don’t hear from me within the next hour then they are to start killing citizens one by one. Starting with the women and children first. Unless Sukuna gives Megumi to us.”
Yuuji’s eyes widen. “What?!”
“How would your people feel, Your Highness?” he spits out Yuuji’s title like venom. “Knowing that their king allowed them to be slaughtered for a stubborn omega nobody could be bothered with to fuck.” He sneers. “There would be civil unrest. Riots. A coup. Yours and your brother’s control over this land would slip through your fingertips.”
“You’re insane!” Yuuji snaps.
“Well, the most ingenious people often are.”
A voice cuts in that Yuuji didn’t expect. “Really? Is that what they’re calling it these days?”
Naobito has all of half a second to gather his bearings before a sword protrudes from the left side of chest, glinting in the sunlight and gleaming with his blood.
And Toji is noticeably missing from his spot on the ground.
Naobito, blood spilling from the corners of his mouth, looks back at Toji, eyes wide. “Y-You—!”
“It will be a cold day in hell before you lay a hand on my son,” Toji says.
“Bastard…! Y-You were…! You were down! You were—!”
“That’s one thing you assholes never seemed to realize. You underestimated two of the strongest Zen’in members and allowed them to walk right out the door because they didn’t have any cursed energy.” Toji pushes in the blade further. “And now one of them is about to kill you.”
“You filthy vermin!” Naobito gurgles. “Your son will be ours… whether you like it or not!”
Toji twists the blade, there’s a sickening tear of flesh, and Naobito slumps forward. He rips the sword out and the elder collapses to the ground.
Blood pools where he lays but he doesn’t move.
Dead.
The leader of the Zen’in family was dead.
Toji spits on him. “Burn until we meet again.”
Yuuji’s jaw drops, staring at Naobito’s body and processing what happened 30 seconds ago until Toji flicks the blood from his sword and it stains the ground in horrid streaks. And the assassin’s eyes land on them. Okkotsu shifts in front of Yuuji, sword at the ready and meeting Toji’s gaze.
“Calm down, I’ve already given up on the bounty.” Toji sheaths his sword. “You are of no interest to me.” He moves to the side. Takes one step. Takes two. Staggers. But he’s quick to steady himself and stares at the pool of blood that didn’t belong to Naobito. “Where’s Megumi?”
Yuuji and Okkotsu trade glances, and Yuuji wonders if it’s truly a good idea to reveal Megumi’s location. What would Toji do? Would he storm the castle and put Megumi out of his misery? After all, Megumi toes the line between life and death because of him. And there would be no way to stop him from passing through the barrier surrounding the castle since he didn’t have any cursed energy.
Then again, Yuuji did manage to catch a glimpse of Toji’s face moments before rage consumed his very soul. At the time, he didn’t register it. The red haze that clouded his vision was too strong. But now that he’s thinking clearly, he knows what Fushiguro Toji was feeling after stabbing Megumi.
Sorrow.
Pure, unadulterated sorrow.
“Where is he?” Toji demands.
“At the castle,” Yuuji says. “Getting patched up after what you did to him.”
And though Yuuji doesn’t know Toji except from what Megumi has told him and what he’s bore witness to today, but if he didn’t know any better he’d think that was concern crossing Toji’s face. It was muted, far more reigned in than before. But it was there nonetheless.
“I didn’t…” Toji starts. “I didn’t mean…” he takes another step, wavers, and straightens. “I have to see him. I have to make sure he’s okay.”
“I don’t think Megumi would appreciate that,” Yuuji says. He waits until Toji looks at him. “You haven’t exactly been there for him, you know. You sold him. To a shelter. Knowing full well how shelters treat omegas.”
Toji stops. “You don’t understand. None of you will.”
“Then why don’t you try explaining why you thought abandoning him was an excellent idea?”
“No. I don’t owe you any explanations.”
“Well, if you want any hope of approaching the castle gates without turning into a pincushion you’d better start talking.”
Toji shakes his head and almost loses his footing. He levels them with a gaze that doesn’t carry the same ferocity it did before. If anything, those green eyes have dulled. Blood trickles from the corner of his mouth and he quickly wipes it away. “Like I said before, I don’t have to answer you. You’re not my prince.”
“Forget making it to the castle gates,” Okkotsu says. “You’ll be lucky to make it out of the town square.” He puts his sword away and Rika dissipates, and he watches Toji stumble in the general direction of the castle. “You faced the full brunt of a Black Flash. There is likely internal bleeding. If you don’t seek immediate medical treatment, you won’t be alive to check on Lord Fushiguro.”
Toji doesn’t even spare them a glance. “I don’t need your help.”
“Don’t be stupid. You’ll die,” Yuuji says. “And don’t think for one second that you get to leave this world without explaining things to Megumi. You won’t get off that easily.”
Toji seems to consider his words for a moment. But when he opens his mouth to speak, he instead coughs up blood and collapses forward. Yuuji rushes forward, catching him, and Toji doesn’t even have the strength to push Yuuji away.
Part of Yuuji is regretful for delivering a full strength Black Flash to his best friend’s father. But on that same note, he had believed that this man killed his best friend.
And that was something Yuuji wouldn’t let slide. No matter who it was.
“Okkotsu,” Yuuji says and the alpha guard is immediately at his side. “Take him back to the castle and get him seen. And be quick. The guards shouldn’t give you any issues. Let me know if they do and I’ll deal with them when I catch up.”
Okkotsu easily lifts Toji onto his back. “Catch up? What’re you planning to do, Your Highness?”
“Find more survivors. And hopefully Maki and the others. I can at least be useful that way.”
“But Your Highness—”
“Make sure that you warn somebody about Naobito’s plan. Only someone you trust. Like Nobara and Uraume. They both should be at the castle.”
“Your Highness—”
“Get going. He doesn’t have much time. And stop calling me ‘Your Highness.’” And he takes off in the direction he saw Maki and Nanami run. He doesn’t even bother making sure that Okkotsu follows orders. The tendrils of Okkotsu’s cursed energy heading towards the castle is enough assurance.
The last dregs of the poison still cloud his system, but he breaks into a sprint, trying to home in on Nanami’s cursed energy. He sifts through the different signals slamming into him—the soldiers and the cursed spirits they were fighting, a small ripple that he recognizes as Zen’in Mai and then her guard beside her (both will be dealt with later), then—
“Your Highness!”
Yuuji skids to a stop and whirls around, smiling when he sees who stopped him. “Getou-san! I’m so glad to see you’re alright.”
“Yes, these cursed spirits are rather troublesome.” Getou holds a black orb in his hand that contains a black, swirling mass with a glowing amber center inside. He tucks it away in his pocket. “But what about you, Your Highness? Are you injured?”
“Nah. Just a couple of cuts and bruises. Nothing a bandage won’t fix.”
“Well, don’t let Satoru hear you say that. You know how he likes to fret.”
Yuuji smiles gently, warmth blossoming in his chest despite everything. “Yes, I know.” He looks around. “Speaking of Satoru, where is he? Have you seen him lately?”
“Oh. I imagine he’s going to maim another cursed spirit in three… two… one, and…”
A flash of red sparks in the distance and a distant explosion echoes it.
“There he is.” Getou smiles and points northeast. “Would you like me to accompany you, Your Highness? Lord Gojo sent me to find you, after all, since Nanami-san left you behind.”
“He didn’t leave me behind, Getou-san. Nanamin would never do that. I told him to go help other people and that I’d be fine.” Which is a little white half-lie but Yuuji didn’t have time to delve into the full story. “I’m sure he’s the one who helped Maki take down the curtain so Satoru and Sukuna could enter.”
Sukuna. Megumi. Family. Pack. Help pack. Help.
Yuuji shoves his instincts in a box labeled “Do Not Disturb” and seals it shut.
“He didn’t abandon his post. He was simply following the orders he was given once he found me. He wanted to stay. I’m the one who told him to go.” Another half-lie. But even if Megumi hadn’t been the one to tell Nanami to take down the curtain, Yuuji already had told him to go help other people before Toji showed up.
Getou bows. “Of course, Your Highness.”
“That’s good to hear. I was beginning to wonder if I’d have to punish Nanami for going against orders.”
Yuuji jumps when Gojo suddenly appears beside Getou, and the latter is completely unfazed. (He looks more annoyed than anything.)
“Satoru!” Yuuji says and he’s suddenly in Gojo’s arms, squeezing and being squeezed for dear life, the shock giving way to sheer, radiating joy that burst in his chest like fireworks on a warm summer evening.
He breathes in Gojo’s scent—the calm after the rain, the lingering surge of a thunderstorm. He allows it to wash over him and anchor him to the reality that he was alive, they were alive, and that Megumi would be okay.
Gojo kisses him, long and sweet and fierce and taking Yuuji’s breath away as he had so many times before. “I’m here, my sunflower,” he says when they part. “I’m here.” He cradles Yuuji’s face in his hands and then traces a thumb over the thin cut on Yuuji’s neck. And the sky in his eyes darkens. “Who did this to you.”
“It’s just a scratch, Satoru. Don’t worry about it.” Yuuji places his hands atop Gojo’s and releases a few wisps of his scent to reassure his future mate.
He’s been around Gojo long enough to know when he can coax the alpha out of a protective haze and when he can’t. Luckily, this isn’t one of the latter times. And though it takes a moment, the storm in Gojo’s eyes settles, but the alpha doesn’t drop his hand from Yuuji’s waist.
Yuuji pays it no mind and opts to examine their surroundings. The burned buildings. The blood with no bodies. A child’s toy left tattered and left abandoned on the pavement. “Where is everyone? The civilians. Are they safe?”
“While the casualties were great, the remaining civilians were transported to the castle by the royal guard and myself and are being tended to by Ieiri and her team. The only souls left around are those trying to contain the cursed spirit outbreak.” Getou puts his hand to his chin. “What I’ve been wondering is who unleashed all of these cursed spirits in the first place.”
“The ones I’ve encountered have been low tier so there’s no way we’re getting any answers out of them,” Gojo says. “I highly doubt there’s an intelligent one among them. We would’ve sensed it now. What I’m worried about is who can manipulate this many cursed spirits. Assuming it’s just one person.”
Getou nods in agreement. “And I have a strong feeling that whoever started this is far from finished.”
Huh. Now that Yuuji’s thinking about it, there was no guarantee that either Nobara or Uraume were at the castle. Sukuna could’ve sent them both out to handle exigent business. Which meant that left Okkotsu without someone to back him up if Naobito’s men caught wind that they were discovered. There was no way to tell that they just wouldn’t kill everyone in the vicinity regardless of orders.
And who knows if Naobito was even telling the truth? The man was a liar. A drunk. A man whose pride meant more than the lives of his family. Telling Yuuji his men were ready to kill innocents at the drop of a hat could very well have been a scare tactic. A red herring to distract him from the truth.
But there was no way to know that there weren’t men ready to kill innocents at the drop of a hat. And if they were disguised as the royal guard…
Gojo’s hand on his shoulder rips Yuuji from his spiraling thoughts. “Yuuji. Yuuji, are you okay?”
“You look pale, Your Highness,” Getou says.
Yuuji nods. “I’m fine, I—”
“Maybe we should go back to the castle and get you looked at,” Gojo’s brow furrows in obvious concern. “You’ve been through hell. I can see it in your eyes.”
“No! No, I’m okay.” Yuuji takes a deep breath. “It’s just… it’s Naobito.”
“Oh? Where’s that snake slithered off to?” Gojo looks around, probably trying to pinpoint the elder’s cursed energy. “I’d like to have a word with him.”
“Burning in hell,” Yuuji answers. “He’s dead.”
Getou’s brows shoot up. “Who killed him?”
“Megumi’s father.”
It’s Gojo’s turn to look surprised. “Did you say Megumi’s father? Where the hell did he come from?”
And Yuuji tells them what happened, from the moment he and Megumi were separated in the town square to Naobito’s death. Gojo and Getou listen with rapt attention, never once interrupting but obviously on high alert to every twig that snapped in the distance.
“My only issue with the whole thing is Naobito.” Yuuji gnaws on his bottom lip. “He couldn’t be the only Zen’in after Megumi. They’re bound to have reinforcements. And now that Megumi is injured and the castle is in disarray, there’s no guarantee that my brother will be able to stay by his side.” He stops, thinks for a moment. “What’s the status of the cursed spirit predicament?”
“Not that I’m bragging too much, but we’ve decimated about half of them,” Gojo says. “Suguru’s got a real nice arsenal now.”
“Zen’in-san and Kugisaki-san have taken down a large amount of them, as well.” Getou adds. “And I’m sure Nanami-san is doing the same thing.”
Yuuji nods. Then his idea may just work. “We need to get rid of these curses. And quickly. The longer we take, the higher chance of innocent lives being put in danger. So we need to round up all the curses in one location and make sure everyone is out of the way.”
Gojo’s eyes spark. “Are you suggesting what I think you are, sunflower?”
“Maybe.” Yuuji grins. “Purple is a beautiful color, after all.”
Getou’s eyes widened. “You two can’t seriously be thinking about using Hollow Purple. It’ll decimate everything!”
“That’s kinda the idea, Suguru,” Gojo says.
“We know that it’s only supposed to be used in a crisis, and as far as I’m concerned this whole situation is the epitome of one,” Yuuji says. “If Satoru fires it towards the northern mountains, there are no villages within a 50 mile radius in either direction. The energy will have dissipated by then.”
“Are you sure about this, Your Highness?” Getou furrows his brow.
Yuuji nods. “I have to not only protect my friends but my people as well. And this is the only way I can think to do it. But can I count on you to ensure there’s no one else in the immediate vicinity? You’re a bit more thorough in checking than Satoru is.”
Gojo gasps, placing his hand over his chest. “My dear, you wound me!”
Getou bows deep, and Yuuji catches a glimpse of a smirk. “It would be my genuine pleasure, Your Highness.”
“Kiss ass.” Gojo huffs.
“Thanks so much. I’m gonna head back to the castle and let my brother know what’s going on.” And before Yuuji can take two steps, Gojo grabs his hand. The grip isn’t strong, but it’s firm. Saying nothing yet everything all at once.
Yuuji knows that Gojo’s worried, even if his scent doesn’t give anything away. It’s in the subtle way his fingers twitch against Yuuji’s palm. In the way the corners of his mouth dip ever so slightly. In the way his eyes bore into Yuuji’s very soul.
“Be careful,” Gojo says.
“Always.” Yuuji squeezes Gojo’s hand. “I’ll see you later. I know you two will give those curses hell. Head back to the castle when you’re done? All of you?”
Gojo nods. “We’ll be there.”
Yuuji gives one last reassuring squeeze before taking off to the castle at full speed.
**
It’s cold.
It’s warm.
It’s dark.
It’s…
He floats. Floats for what seems like forever. It’s comfortable here. There is no pain. No sorrow. No broken promises.
There is only darkness.
And that right now, for him, is enough.
**
It takes Yuuji longer to arrive at the castle than he would’ve liked thanks to a couple of higher grade curses getting in his way.
The protective barrier is a mile out from the castle gate and it prickles along his skin when he passes through. And as soon as he comes within firing distance of the gate, the archers stationed in the battlement take aim.
“Halt!” one of them cries. “Or we will shoot!“
Yuuji stops. He knows from this far and at their height it’s hard for them to recognize him. He’s honestly glad for their suspicion.
“State your business!” the same guard demands.
“It’s Yuuji!” he says.
Another guard lowers his bow. “It’s His Highness! Allow him entry!”
The large wooden gate yawns open and Yuuji rushes inside as soon as he’s able. The courtyard is tense, filled with people—both common and noble alike—milling about and conversing amongst themselves.
Some of the common children are trying to play in the fountain, despite their parents’ chastisement. Some of the nobles watch in disdain as they’re mixed in with those of lower status. Some are bandaged but well enough to move around. And some people just sit and stare into nothing.
Just this morning they were enjoying the festival. And now they’re uprooted from their homes, with no way of knowing if their loved ones are alive or dead. Perhaps they already know the answer.
Something dark and sorrowful swirls inside of Yuuji’s chest at the sight.
A guard who’s of higher ranking bows as he approaches. “We sincerely apologize, Your Highness. We were ordered to stop intruders by any means necessary.”
Yuuji shakes his head. “Don’t even worry about it. You’re doing a great job.” He scans the crowd of people once more, making note of how many guards are posted. 30, as far as he could see. Enough for a solid defense. (Enough for a massacre if they all work for Naobito.) “Have you seen my brother?”
The guard shakes his head. “No, sire. But I imagine he’s inside ensuring that everything is in working order, now that we have many others to look after.”
“And the civilians? Have they been fed?”
“Yes, Your Highness. Soup and bread. The kitchen and other servants have been working hard on distributing food to everyone, though some of the nobles with more… refined tastes weren’t particularly happy about it.”
Yuuji resists the urge to roll his eyes. Of course they weren’t. Instead he asks, “Has Okkotsu made it back?”
“Yes. He rushed the injured man with him to Ieiri-san. I’m not sure of his current whereabouts.”
“Thank you.” And Yuuji weaves his way through the crowd, checking in with people as he does, smiling and waving at the children when they enthusiastically greet him, and many thank him for giving them sanctuary.
When he enters the west wing, the smell of antiseptic and ointment slams into him and the cries of the injured and mourning drift from the direction of the Great Hall.
Clearly the large space is being used as an impromptu infirmary, and Yuuji wonders if there’s an off-chance that Megumi is there…
He imagines Sukuna would take him to their room, but if he didn’t have time to go all the way up and had to attend to other matters…
No, Sukuna would’ve made time.
He’ll check their bedroom first, then the Great Hall.
He rushes up the first set of stairs he sees, sprinting through hallways and past guards making rounds, and skids to a stop outside of Megumi’s and Sukuna’s room.
Oddly enough, there isn’t a guard posted out here. Then again, Sukuna may have sent them away if he didn’t want to risk anyone disturbing them.
He knocks on the door, and when he doesn’t hear Sukuna’s ordering him to leave, he enters.
The room is empty. No guard. No Sukuna. No one. Just Megumi sleeping peacefully on the bed.
Yuuji sighs. In relief or worry, he’s not sure. But he’s glad to see that Megumi is unharmed. And still very much alive.
He sits on the edge of the bed, inhaling jasmine and citrus, sage and incense. Megumi, for all intents and purposes, looks fine. There’s color in his cheeks. There’s shine to his hair. There’s air in his lungs. He looks alive.
Nothing like his mother did in her final moments.
“Please wake up soon, Megumi. Please,” he whispers. “I miss you. I’m scared for you. And my brother, he… the only person I’ve ever seen him this worried about is me. And our mother. When she was still alive.”
Megumi, of course, says nothing. But Megumi has always been a great listener.
“Our mother loved flowers, you know. The garden was hers, and it was her pride and joy—second to us. She used to call me marigold. And Sukuna… She used to say his eyes were like dahlias. Red ones, specifically.” Yuuji sighs. “She’d probably say your eyes are like green hydrangeas. They symbolize gratitude. And I know she and I are both immensely grateful for everything you’ve done for not only myself but for Sukuna as well.”
He takes Megumi’s hand in his. It’s still warm.
“Please, Megumi. Wake up. Wake—”
A guard enters the room, lance at the ready, and Yuuji startles. The man wields a lance and has long wild, spiky hair, bright green eyes, thick eyebrows, a beard, and an x-shaped scar across his forehead. He’s also well-built, and the armor almost seems too small for him, and a moment of shock registers on his face before it disappears.
There are many guards who serve the Ryoumen Household. And this man isn’t one of them.
“Your Highness,” the guard says. “His Majesty has summoned you to his office.”
“I’m visiting my friend,” Yuuji says. He has to remain calm. “Tell him I’ll be there in a moment.”
“I’m sorry, Your Highness. He said the matter was urgent.”
“I see.” Yuuji nods. “Before I go, though, do you mind telling me the oath of the royal guard?”
The man stops. “What?”
“The oath of the royal guard. Tell me what it is.”
“I—”
“Everyone who is accepted into the guard has to make an oath, and they must learn it by heart.” Yuuji glares into those piercing green eyes. “You should have no trouble telling me what it is.”
The man charges forward.
Yuuji stops the lance moments before it pierces his heart. And he can immediately tell this man isn’t using all of his strength.
“You won’t be able to kill me,” Yuuji says.
“It’s not you I’m after.” The man shifts his weight to the side, throwing Yuuji off balance, and he uses the added momentum to drive the lance straight for Megumi’s chest.
“No!” Yuuji tightens his grip and breaks the lance in half, the pointed end dropping to the bed. As soon as he has a solid footing, he grabs the man’s wrist and upper arm and throws him out the window.
In the distance, a flash of purple rivals the sun itself and charges north. And Yuuji follows the man’s descent into the garden. The queen’s garden.
By the time he lands, the man has already stripped the armor and he’s wearing a simple black yukata.
Yuuji cracks his knuckles. “I know you’re from the Zen’in family, so I’ll only ask this once: why are you trying to kill Megumi? I thought the Zen’ins wanted him alive since he’s the heir.”
“I refuse to bow to an omega bitch.”
At that, Yuuji grins. “You already do.”
The man’s eyes narrow.
“Oh, my apologies. It seems we forgot to divulge that little piece of information.” Yuuji bows, low and mocking. “Allow me to formally introduce myself: I am Prince Itadori Yuuji—spare heir to the throne, youngest son of Ryoumen Tatsuya, brother of King Ryoumen Sukuna. And an omega.” He straightens. “And since I’m 99% sure you won’t tell me your name, I’m just gonna call you Beardie. Sound good?”
The man, once again, doesn’t respond.
“Not much of a talker, are you? That’s fine. I’ve got all day.” Yuuji cracks his knuckles.
“Your Highness!” a guard calls from atop the battlement.
“I’m fine!” Yuuji replies. “Focus on protecting the rest of the castle! Protect Lord Fushiguro!”
“Rain fire,” the Zen’in man says.
Yuuji blinks. “What?”
And that’s when he hears the surprised dying cries of men above and the unmistakable thwip of arrows cutting through air.
Dozens upon dozens of arrows rain down, and Yuuji dances out of the way—
Directly into the fist of Beardie and crashing into the castle’s cobblestone wall.
“Start the infiltration,” Beardie says, and there’s a resounding “sir!” along with a parade of footsteps receding.
Yuuji wipes the blood from the corner of his mouth.
Well, this was definitely gonna be interesting.
**
Sukuna is annoyed.
In fact, annoyed doesn’t even begin to cover it.
With two guards outside their room and four more making rounds in the immediate area, he’d been somewhat comfortable leaving Megumi to rest alone when Uraume reported that a couple of nobles were fussing about some of the arrangements.
He honestly should be out dealing with the rest of the curses wreaking havoc on his kingdom. But no. He’s here in his office having to listen to Kojima and Nakahara—the dual overseers of military affairs—complain about how they were served only soup and bread and that they deserved a feast “befitting someone of their stature.”
They had dragged Ikeda with them—the new overseer of foreign affairs and relations between provinces in the kingdom—but the man opted to keep his mouth shut. He no doubt remembers what happened to his dear friend those few months ago. The color missing from his face is proof enough that he does.
Okkotsu, on the other hand, stands at the wall behind Sukuna’s desk, in Maki’s usual spot. Looking every bit the guard she would. The alpha had come rushing in moments before the three nobles had, claiming that he had an urgent message from Yuuji that could only be spoken in complete confidence. And he didn’t want to run the risk of Kojima and the others eavesdropping. His hands are clean, but his sleeves are still colored with blood, and the burns on his arms are steadily fading.
They need to finish this up. And quickly.
“And another thing, Sukuna-sama,” Kojima says. He’s short for an alpha. Short and stout. Like a goddamn teapot. “From what I heard, your advisor stated that we are to room on the same floor as the common folk. Surely there must be somewhere else you can house the nobility. My children will need their own rooms as well. They’re growing far too big to sleep with us.”
“Not to say that we aren’t grateful for you giving us lodging during this unexpected attack,” Nakahara adds. He’s taller than his companion. And just as irritating. “It’s just we’re worried about the safety of our loved ones. The masses have been known to be opportunists, after all.” He turns to the beta man leaning against the wall. “Right, Ikeda?”
“No,” Ikeda says. He doesn’t even make eye contact.
Nakahara blinks. “You were just saying how—”
“I said no such thing.” Ikeda shakes his head.
Kojima flounders. “Sukuna-sama, he lies—”
“If you two are done squawking…” Sukuna says, effectively quieting them. He looks at Ikeda. “Get out.”
The beta noble bows and makes a quick exit.
“I’m going to explain this in a way you two can understand.” Sukuna takes a deep breath so he doesn’t immediately splatter one of them on the wall. “I have dozens upon dozens of people in my castle who live in this area and have been permanently relocated. Your homes lie elsewhere, likely untouched by this madness. If you don’t like your current situation, you’re more than welcome to leave. I know there’s plenty of people who would be more than happy to take your places.”
Kojima and Nakahara trade glances, a thin sheen of sweat breaking out on both their foreheads.
“But… but what of the cursed spirits?” Nakahara chokes out.
Sukuna steps towards them, stopping an inch away. Breathing their air. Smelling their fear. “What they do will be a mercy if you keep trying my patience.” He narrows his eyes. “Do I make myself clear?”
Nakahara nods quickly. “Y-Yes, Your Majesty.”
Kohima recovers much quicker. “So for the rooms—”
The man is reduced to nothing but a bloodstained silhouette on the wall. Nakahara jumps but Okkotsu doesn’t even flinch.
Sukuna looks at Nakahara. “What were you saying about the food?”
“N-Nothing, sir.” Nakahara trembles.
“Good. Leave.”
And Nakahara scurries out, seeming to think about looking at the viscera that was once his friend and deciding against it.
As soon as he’s sure the noble is out of earshot, Sukuna sighs and turns to Okkotsu. “You were saying?”
“His Highness asked me to report that Naobito has a plan to take Lord Fushiguro back to the Zen’in compound to make him their new heir,” Okkotsu says.
Sukuna’s brow twitches at the mention of the accursed Zen’in noble. “Go on.”
“Naobito said that he has men stationed around the castle and throughout the kingdom to start killing civilians if you do not hand over Lord Fushiguro, starting with the women and children. And that we have less than an hour before it’s set in motion.”
Sukuna growls. “That insane son of a bitch. I should’ve known there was a reason he suddenly decided to show his face around here. Where is he? I want his head on a pike.”
“Dead, sir. Fushiguro Toji, Megumi’s father, saw to that.”
Sukuna thinks he remembers seeing someone else besides Yuuji and Okkotsu earlier. The guard reported that Megumi and Okkotsu were fighting a man with black hair and a broadsword. Could that have been…?
Wait, the guard.
There was someone disguised as a royal guardsman that tried to kill him earlier today by Naobito’s orders.
So if that’s the case…
“I bet they’re not the only ones playing pretend around here,” Sukuna says.
“His Highness and I had the exact same thought, Your Majesty.”
What a hell of a time for Maki and Nobara to be off the grounds. “We need to round up all the guards and then—”
A cacophony of screams sing through the air, and they sprint to the nearest hall window. The guards—the ones who aren’t dead—are making quick work of the people in the courtyard, both common and noble alike. Adults and children. Cutting through them as easily as one cuts through butter.
The pavement is a canvas of crimson.
The fountain water bubbles with it.
Those who are quick enough, or lucky enough, scramble inside the castle. A child weeps over his mother’s mutilated body. Her blood paints his clothes. He can’t be more than five years old.
“No prisoners, only trophies.” And the last thing he hears before arriving at the courtyard are Okkotsu’s footsteps racing in the opposite direction.
The armored men startle at his sudden appearance but they try and remain firm, standing in growing pools of red. Their armor and weapons glisten with it, and his own hands warm with the lingering echo of Meugmi’s blood.
They all gather together, clearly preparing to charge him, hands trembling as they grip their weapons.
He counts. 15 here, and he can sense the other 15 chasing after the remaining civilians. Strength in numbers, Sukuna supposes. As if banding together will make their deaths any less painful.
And, as he suspects, a handful of them charge, crying out in an obvious effort to boost their morale.
“Cleave,” he says.
The guards stop dead in their tracks, choking on their breath—their blood as it spills from their mouths—and their bodies slough into heaps of muscle, skin, and organs on the pavement. And Sukuna walks over it to the remaining seven.
And one of them plucks the mourning boy by the back of his shirt, holding their sword to his throat.
“Mama! Mama, help me!” he cries, squirming in their grip.
The other six attack, throwing cursed techniques at him with wild abandon, until they burst into small pillars of flames. The boy shields his face from the heat, and the sole remaining guard scrambles back.
When they’re nothing but charred silhouettes, Sukuna douses the flames.
“Stay back!” the guard shouts. This is one Sukuna recognizes. An alpha who had stirred some trouble a couple months ago over not being challenged enough as a guardsman. “Or I’ll kill him! You hear me?! Do you want another body piled up on your conscience, Your Majesty? Because everything you see here is your fault! You won’t give the omega back!”
Sukuna raises an eyebrow. “So, you’re upset about Megumi being here, too?”
“Lord Zen’in paid some of us handsomely to help his men infiltrate our ranks. Having to be subservient to one omega is humiliating enough, but two? You had to be joking.”
“I see.”
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” they say. “You’re going to let me go so I can hand over Fushiguro to the Zen’ins. It’ll be a seamless transaction. And the bloodshed will stop.”
“And if I don’t?”
“The child dies.”
Sukuna looks into the boy’s wide, fearful eyes. Notes the tears thundering down his red cheeks. The silent cry of help.
Ryoumen Sukuna is the king.
The king of this lush, rich, and thriving land. He is a king that is revered but also one that is feared. He provides for his subjects, and thus they know to be grateful. He protects his people from harm, and thus they know to never cross him. And those who are ungrateful or cross him meet a swift and (sometimes) painless end.
He is the king.
He is the alpha.
He lives for his pleasure and displeasure alone.
And throughout heaven and earth, he alone is the honored one.
“Kill him,” Sukuna says.
The boy gasps and the guard startles, and that brief moment is all that’s needed.
A nail whistles through the air and strikes the guard’s hand, making them drop the sword, and another nail drives into the center of their head. The boy falls into a clumsy heap and scrambles away once the guard slumps to the ground, dead.
He looks back and forth between Sukuna and now Kugisaki who stands at Sukuna’s side.
“You’re late,” Sukuna says.
“My sincerest apologies, Sukuna-sama.” She bows. “We ran into a lot more trouble than expected.”
“And Maki?”
“She’s helping Okkotsu on the south side. He gave us the message: ‘No prisoners, only trophies.’ Right?” She scowls when Sukuna nods. “I can’t believe these bastards slipped right past us.”
“The festival was the perfect time to do it. Too much activity around the castle. Naobito must’ve been tracking Megumi for a while.” Sukuna turns his attention back to the child. “Are you alright?”
“U-Uh-huh…” the boy hiccups. “But… but my mama…”
“Your mother will be taken care of, don’t worry,” Kugisaki says.
A maid rushes out from the castle, face paling at the carnage. Sukuna recognizes her, but that means absolutely nothing at this point. There’s no telling how deep Naobito’s fangs go.
Kugisaki points her hammer at the maid. “You there! State your purpose!”
The woman takes a step back. “I-Ieiri-san told me to see if anyone needed medical attention now that Maki-san had disposed of the ones attacking us. That’s all, I swear!”
Kugisaki raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, we’ll see about that.”
The ground suddenly rumbles, purple lightning striking the sky and moving north. Sukuna can’t even afford to be angry about the damage caused. He told Gojo to handle things.
“Deal with this as you please. I’m going to check out the north side,” Sukuna says. “I’ll expect you to handle the East. Tell Maki and Okkotsu to clear out the West if you run into them.”
“Got it.”
And Sukuna is back inside the castle, combing through the halls and dismantling anyone who attacked him along the way. Guard or servant, man or woman—it didn’t matter. They all met the same end.
When he arrives at the hall his and Megumi’s room is on, the guards that he had left to stand watch are missing, but the dying wisps of their cursed energy still linger, and it’s swallowed by the overwhelming presence of Yuuji’s… and someone else’s.
He opens the door, rushing to Megumi’s side. The omega is still fast asleep and completely unharmed, but the room is much cooler thanks to the shattered window.
Peering out of it, he sees a large bearded man crash through one of the stone benches and skid to a stop among the trees with red and black lightning crackling in his wake.
Yuuji walks towards him, clothes tattered and blood running down the side of his face. He looks up, grins and waves. “Sukuna! Hey!”
Sukuna jumps down. “What the hell is going on here?”
“Just a little misunderstanding,” Yuuji says. “This guy is a Zen’in. And he’s trying to kill Megumi.”
“But I thought the Zen’ins wanted Megumi alive.”
“Not this one. He said he refuses to bow to an ‘omega bitch.’ And I told him he already does.”
“What part of ‘no one outside our household’ is supposed to know did you fail to understand? You’ve put your life in jeopardy by telling him.”
“Don’t worry. He’s not much of a talker anyhow. I think my secret’s safe. Besides…” Yuuji wipes his blood with his sleeve. “I’m an omega and I’m proud of it.”
“This is not about your pride. This is about your life. If word got out to the other families, there’d be assassins everywhere you turned. You know how they feel about omegas being in power.”
“And you don’t think there’s something wrong with that?”
“Oh for the love of the gods, of course I do!” Sukuna points to the man who still hasn’t moved. “But they don’t! This asshole trying to kill you and Megumi is proof of that!”
Sukuna wants to throttle his younger brother. Being headstrong was always one of Yuuji’s best and defining traits. But not right now.
“I’m tired of hiding!” Yuuji shouts. “There is nothing shameful about being an omega! You of all people should know that!”
“Are we seriously arguing right now?”
“You started it!”
The bearded man shifts and stands, ripping a sleeve from his ruined yukata.
“Get outta here,” Yuuji says. “I can handle him.”
Sukuna carefully watches the man stroll towards them. As if he was walking in the park. “Yuuji…”
“I’ve still got two Black Flashes at my disposal. I’ll make sure to put him down for the count by then.” Yuuji claps Sukuna on the back. “Go. Get Megumi away from here. You’re the fastest one out of the two of us and that’s the first and last time I’ll admit that.”
Sukuna sighs. “You’re sure you’ll be okay?”
Yuuji rolls his eyes and smiles. “We’ve fought countless battles together and you still ask me that question every time.”
“Yeah, ‘together’ being the key word.”
“I got this. I promise.”
For the better part of 16 years, Sukuna had been protecting his little brother. Protecting that spark of light. Guiding him through the trials and tribulations of being royalty.
And they had, for the better part of their lives, done everything together.
They mourned when the queen died. They celebrated at Sukuna’s coronation. They held their heads high when their father passed. They went to battle together, brought home victories for their kingdom together.
“Please look after Yuuji,” the queen had said.
I don’t need to anymore, Mother, he thought. He’s got this.
“Give him hell,” Sukuna says.
Yuuji grins. “You already know.”
Sukuna spares his brother one last glance before appearing beside Megumi, lifting the omega ever so carefully and taking him to a safer part of the castle.
He never considered himself a religious man. He never saw the point in it. But he yelled at whatever deity happened to be listening that if he couldn’t oversee Yuuji’s fight, then they could.
They had nothing better to do after all.
Because as much as Yuuji wore on every last one of his nerves, Sukuna had come to care for his brother.
And he can’t lose anyone else.
He won’t.
**
He had never been afraid of the dark.
For as long as he could remember, the darkness had obeyed him. The shadows had bent to his imagination.
They still do.
Darkness, one would think, would be all-consuming. Devouring everything in sight. Light, love, happiness.
But not for him.
For him, it is light and love and happiness. And—
Wait, that doesn’t sound right. Sure, he had found solace in the shadows he created and the shapes they took.
But it wasn’t everything.
It wasn’t…
You must wake, my darling.
Who…?
Wake up. Wake and ease the worries of those who love you. Forgive the actions of those who’ve wronged you.
Who are…?
I am the one who will meet you on the other side when it is your time. And that time is not now. You have people who need you.
And the dark wasn’t so comforting anymore.
**
Yuuji was six years old when someone first tried to assassinate him.
Yuuji’s status wasn’t public knowledge and he had yet to go through his first heat, but that didn’t stop his light peach and cinnamon scent from drawing attention.
It was around the time of the festival, and one of the nobles had slipped poison into his drink the third night the cupbearer had been ill. And it might’ve worked if the king hadn’t already started training Yuuji’s resistance to toxins a year prior. But he still ran a horrible fever and was bedridden for about a week.
Of course, the noble framed the cook and the latter had been sentenced to death. Luckily, the truth came to light before the execution date. And when asked why they thought it was a good idea to attempt murdering the king’s son of all people, the noble had simply said, “I serve no omega.”
That’s when it was established no one outside of the household and a few chosen nobles would know of Yuuji’s status. And anyone who broke that rule would be executed for treason.
That’s when Yuuji learned that his father and grandfather weren’t the only ones who hated omegas.
It was everyone.
The cook left the employment of the castle, and Chef, who was an apprentice at the time, was promoted. And the noble’s entire family was executed… along with his wife and three children. It was done swiftly and quietly as no one else knew of Yuuji’s true biology. And that’s how it was to remain.
In his feverish delirium, when the queen had stepped out, Yuuji vaguely remembers asking Sukuna why people hated omegas so much.
Sukuna was quiet for a while. Long enough that Yuuji almost dozed off. Then he said, “They’re afraid of what you all can do,”
Yuuji slips past the fist barreling straight for his head.
And the next, and the next. A barrage of blows aiming for any one vital spot. And with the way they were emanating cursed energy, it’d take but a few hits to put Yuuji out of commission. Or worse.
It seems like a never ending cycle. Yuuji attacks, Beardie dodges. Beardie attacks, Yuuji dodges. And while Yuuji enjoys a challenge, he’s grown quite tired of this song and dance. Funnily enough, it doesn’t seem like he’s the only one.
The Zen’in man’s moves are getting sloppier. More desperate. Yuuji can feel the frustration behind every dodged and parried blow, and this guy doesn’t have endless reserves of cursed energy. He’s bound to run out at some point, and he’s very much determined not to lose to an omega.
A little push is honestly all it would take.
Yuuji blocks the punch hurtling towards his chest, but the reinforcement of cursed energy behind it sends him skidding back about 50 feet, kicking up dust and dirt along the way. He shakes out the tingling in his arms and grins. “Man, that might’ve done me in if you were good enough. But I suppose that’s just a testament to how skilled the alphas from the Zen’in family actually are.”
Beardie’s expression doesn’t give way, but Yuuji can smell the irritation from here.
“I mean, if we’re being honest—and I’m nothing if not an honest guy—you wouldn’t last two seconds with the vice-captain of our guard. She’s a beta, if you didn’t know.”
“I’m a member of an elite group of Zen’in.” Beardie growls. “Do not mock me, boy.”
“Oh jeez, if that’s the case, you definitely wouldn’t be able to handle the captain of our guard. She’s an alpha, sure, but she doesn’t have any cursed energy. Not a single drop.” Yuuji levels the Zen’in with a hard look. “Because let’s be real with ourselves here. You’re worried. You’re terrified. I can see the gears in your head turning. You’re wondering how an omega is going toe-to-toe with an alpha of your caliber. You’re afraid of losing to someone who is supposedly beneath you.”
The man clenches his fists.
“And if you’re already thinking all of those things…” Yuuji continues. “Then I’ve already won the battle.”
“I lose to no one!” Beardie roars, cursed energy flaring. “Especially not an omega bitch!” And he charges.
This is it, Yuuji thinks. I’ve got one more Black Flash left. Gotta make it count.
The distance is closed almost instantaneously, and the Zen’in cocks back his fist, everything he has left channeled into it, and strikes.
Yuuji can feel the cursed energy ripping through him, punching a hole clear through him and then some, can feel his life leaving him as it tears him apart atom by atom…
At least, that’s what he thinks it would feel like.
He ducks, slipping close and driving a fully charged Black Flash directly into the man’s chest. Ribs shatter under the force, red and black lightning crackles through the Zen’in man’s body,tearing him apart atom by atom—
—and Beardie’s head is cleaved clean off his shoulders and hits the ground with a soft thud.
His body follows suit soon after.
Yuuji releases the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding and picks up the spear that was lodged in the ground. “Nice aim.”
Maki hops down from her position above. Her clothes are bloodstained and tattered, her glasses are cracked, and cuts and bruises cover her face and arms. All in all, she looks like she’s been through hell. “I’ve been practicing.”
“Man, you make it sound like you have a grudge against the Zen’ins or something.” Yuuji hands the spear over.
“I’m not sure what gave you that idea.” She glares at the decapitated Zen’in, her anger peeling off of her in tumultuous waves.
Yuuji almost doesn’t want to ask but… “Who was he?”
“Just another member who didn’t give me the time of day.” Maki turns away. “Come on. Let’s get you patched up. Everything’s calmed down now that those who betrayed us have been captured or killed. The citizens are safe and sound once more.”
Yuuji follows her towards one of the garden entrances inside the castle. “What about everyone else? Toge, Yuuta, Nobara, and Nanamin—are they okay?”
“They’re perfectly fine.”
“Oh, thank the gods.” He folds his arms behind his head. “I’m telling you, once everything’s said and done, I’m sleeping for the next 10 years.”
Maki chuckles. “As if you wouldn’t do that on a normal day.”
“You know what, you’re right. Make it 20 years. And I’m going to eat everything Chef makes.”
“Just as long as you don’t burn the kitchen down.”
“That was one time!”
**
He doesn’t recognize this room.
With its foreign scents and decorations. The sheets are cotton instead of silk. The colors are green instead of red or black. And instead of wearing clothes that are dirty and bloodstained, he wears a silk lilac robe.
You must wake, my darling.
That voice…
Who was that?
And where was everyone else?
His head teeters between an odd balance of light and heavy, but Fushiguro Megumi slides out of bed and into the hallway.