Chapter 24: The Death of Itadori
Blood mixed with rainwater.
It wound across the shattered asphalt in thin crimson streams, gathering at last beneath the still body lying in the wreckage.
"Yuji!!!"
Megumi Fushiguro's scream tore through the rain.
He stumbled to Yuji Itadori's side and dropped to his knees so hard they splashed through the growing pool of blood. His hands shook violently as he tried to press down on the gaping wound in Yuji's chest.
It was useless.
There was no heart left to save.
Blood poured from that horrifying hollow without pause, carrying away the last trace of warmth from the boy's body.
Rain lashed Megumi's face, mingling with the tears he refused to acknowledge.
"Why..."
His voice cracked.
"Why did it end up like this...?"
"We were supposed to get stronger together."
"We were supposed to save people together."
Nobara Kugisaki knelt beside him, one hand clamped over her mouth. Tears streamed unchecked down her face.
That idiot who had been yelling about food and shopping and beating up curses with a stupid grin was lying there in silence.
He would never leap up again and start shouting about steak.
He would never drag them into another ridiculous argument over clothes or sneakers.
He would never laugh again.
Dead.
Yuji Itadori was dead.
The realization spread through the air like a disease.
Not far away, Kiyotaka Ijichi, who had only just arrived at the scene, froze the instant he saw the body.
Then his legs gave out.
He collapsed into the mud, face drained white, lips trembling soundlessly.
This wasn't just a failed mission.
This was disaster.
The vessel containing Ryomen Sukuna had died.
That single fact would shake the entire jujutsu world.
The higher ups, those rotten old vultures, would absolutely seize this chance to stir up chaos.
And Gojo-sensei...
Ijichi could not bear to think any further.
The pressure of it all crushed down on his lungs until even breathing felt difficult.
Then, in the middle of that deathly silence, a weak coughing sound broke through.
"Cough... cough..."
Everyone turned at once.
Yami, who should have still been unconscious, had somehow forced himself upright.
His condition was no better than Yuji's.
Blood covered him.
His uniform had long since become tattered strips of cloth. The burning mark that had once spread across the left side of his face had already faded, but the deathly pallor beneath it made him look even more alarming.
And still, he stood.
Using the bloodstained Shiranui as a cane, he took one step at a time toward Yuji's body.
Each step looked unbearably difficult.
"Yami! Don't move!"
Megumi's eyes were red as he shouted.
"You're seriously injured too. If you keep pushing yourself, you'll die!"
Yami ignored him.
His gaze was distant, deep, and strangely empty, as though he were looking at something no one else present could see.
Rain slid down the sharp lines of his face and dripped from his chin onto the sword's hilt.
He finally reached Yuji's body and slowly crouched.
"Move."
His voice was hoarse, but there was an authority in it that no one could resist.
Megumi hesitated for only a second before instinctively shifting aside.
Yami placed his palm lightly against the bloody cavity in Yuji's chest.
Cold.
There was no warmth left at all.
His heart was truly gone.
But Yami's perception had already moved beyond ordinary flesh.
That single minute of forced synchronization, that reckless, suicidal surge to forty percent of Yoriichi Tsugikuni's power, had not vanished without leaving anything behind. Although the side effects had already begun tearing through his body, and his role synchronization was now locked, a fragment of that deeper vision still lingered.
Transparent World.
Residual state.
Yami closed his eyes and adjusted his breathing.
Total Concentration Breathing.
Warm ripples spread from his palm and slowly sank into Yuji's body.
This was not Cursed Energy.
Nor was it Reverse Cursed Technique.
It was something purer.
The life carrying warmth born from Sun Breathing itself.
In the darkness behind his eyelids, Yami saw it.
A tiny flame.
Weak.
Flickering.
Almost extinguished.
But not gone.
That was Yuji's soul.
And when Yami let his consciousness sink deeper into that nearly extinguished ember, the world around him changed.
Suddenly, he was no longer kneeling in the rain.
His awareness had passed through the surface of the flesh and fallen into an endless darkness.
Below him stretched a crimson sea.
Above him, rows of pale, towering bones arched together to form a grotesque cathedral, like the inside of some colossal beast's ribcage.
At the center of it all stood a throne of bones.
And upon that throne sat Ryomen Sukuna.
The King of Curses rested his chin on one hand and stared at the unexpected intruder with open boredom.
"Oh?"
One of his brows lifted slightly.
His scarlet eyes narrowed.
"A brat with no cursed energy forcing his way into my innate domain with raw will alone?"
He laughed once, low and sharp.
"That's new."
The pressure was real.
Just meeting Sukuna's gaze made Yami feel as though countless invisible blades were scraping across his skin.
But he did not retreat.
He stood on that sea of blood and returned the King of Curses' stare without a trace of fear.
"He's still alive, isn't he?"
Yami's tone remained calm, as if he were merely confirming something he already knew.
Sukuna chuckled.
He rose slowly from the throne, and the sea of blood beneath them surged violently as his cursed presence swelled.
"You mean that brat who's barely hanging together?"
Sukuna's smile turned cruel.
"Yes. His soul still has one breath left in it."
He took one slow step forward.
"But if you think you can save something I've taken hold of..."
His grin widened.
"You're about two thousand years too early."
Then he stopped.
For a brief moment, his expression changed.
His gaze pierced through Yami more deeply than before, as though looking straight into the core of his soul.
"Still..."
Sukuna's voice lowered.
"Your soul is interesting."
"It has that nauseating smell of the sun."
He bared his teeth.
"Pure enough to make me want to crush it."
His hand rose in a dismissive wave.
"Now get out."
"That brat is already bound to me. This farce ends here."
Boom!
The entire inner world shattered.
Yami's consciousness snapped back violently into his injured body.
His shoulders swayed.
A fine layer of cold sweat covered his forehead.
"As expected..."
Yami slowly opened his eyes.
A weak but dangerous smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
Ryomen Sukuna.
That arrogant King of Curses had spoken of killing Yuji, of killing everyone, of doing as he pleased.
But Yami understood something clearly now.
If Yuji truly died, Sukuna would die with him.
No matter how much pride he had, no matter how much contempt he felt for this era, Sukuna would never willingly accept such a pathetic end while he only possessed two fingers' worth of strength.
Which meant one thing.
He was already using his cursed power to sustain the absolute bare minimum of Yuji's life.
Not enough to heal him.
Not enough to wake him.
But enough to keep that soul from going out completely.
It was a spider's thread over an abyss.
As long as it did not snap, Yuji could still be dragged back.
"Yami..."
Nobara's voice trembled.
"What are you doing?"
She looked at him as if she could not bear the thought that he was refusing to accept reality.
"Yuji is already..."
"Shut up."
Yami's reply was cold and immediate.
Nobara froze.
Yami withdrew his hand slowly, but the light in his eyes had only grown brighter.
"Who said he's dead?"
Everyone went still.
Megumi stared at him in disbelief.
"But... his heart is gone."
"And there's no breathing. No pulse."
"For an ordinary sorcerer, yes."
Yami leaned on Shiranui and forced himself to stand again, though his entire body trembled with the effort.
A fresh line of blood ran from the corner of his mouth.
"For a normal person, losing the heart means death."
His gaze settled once more on the bloody hole in Yuji's chest.
"But this idiot isn't normal."
He inhaled slowly, suppressing the pain rising through his lungs.
"He's the vessel of the King of Curses."
"That kind of thing won't kill him. Not completely."
The rain kept falling.
Yami lifted his head and looked past the others, past the detention center ruins, into the dark sky above.
Gojo Satoru was on his way.
And when he arrived, the entire structure of the aftermath would begin to move.
The higher ups would react.
They would seize on Yuji's apparent death.
They would try to push things in their favor.
Which meant this was also an opportunity.
An opportunity to turn the board over.
An opportunity to smash those rotten old men in the face with the consequences of their own schemes.
And more importantly, an opportunity for Yuji to disappear from their sight entirely, at least for a while, and break free from the noose already tightening around his neck.
Yami lowered his gaze and looked at the three people in front of him.
Megumi, pale and soaked.
Nobara, still crying.
Ijichi, half paralyzed with fear.
Then, against all reason and entirely unfitting for the state he was in, a sly smile appeared on Yami's face.
"Stop crying."
He coughed once, then went on.
"Wipe your eyes."
The smile sharpened just slightly.
"He's not completely dead."
"But to make certain people very, very happy..."
He let the words hang for a second.
Then he finished softly.
"We need to put on a show."
"A really big one."