CHAPTER SIX

【princess of curses】

The first thing she saw as she opened her eyes was a beautiful nothingness of blue. Her vision was too blurry to make out her surroundings, but that endless blue held her captive. It was serene, so much calmer than the chaos she often saw reflected in her own scarlet eyes. For a moment, she felt an unfamiliar peace, and her lips nearly curved into a smile.

"Hey, angel."

Almost.

Her moment of peace shattered at the sound of the voice, familiar and maddening all at once. Rina blinked, her vision sharpening as the haze lifted. She found herself staring into Satoru's mischievous smile. His tinted glasses were pushed up to his forehead, revealing those dazzling blue eyes that could see everything and nothing at the same time.

"Sleep well?"

"Were you watching me?" she demanded, sitting up as a sharp pain throbbed in her forehead, making her wince.

"I may have hit you too hard. Sorry," Satoru replied with a nonchalant shrug. He reached out a hand toward her, likely to check her forehead, but she leaned away, suspicion flashing in her scarlet eyes.

"What even happened?"

"You were being... difficult," he said, sitting cross-legged on the floor like this was all some casual hangout. "So, I helped you take a little nap."

She groaned, rubbing her temples as the events leading up to this moment started to come back. She had been arguing—no, shouting—at one of the elders, furious about some unjust decision involving her. And then...

She shot him a glare. "You knocked me out!"

Satoru raised his hands defensively. "Hey, I was just following orders. Yaga-sensei said to 'de-escalate the situation.' I think I did a pretty great job of that." "I had to give them proof you could be contained."

"Figures," she hissed, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. "So what—they'll kill me later?"

"Not if you behave," he replied casually.

"Right."

Silence hung in the air between them, heavy and uncomfortable.

"So why did you wait?" Satoru asked.

Her expression shifted, a swirl of emotions he couldn't quite decipher. Finally, she muttered, "You knew."

"About the fact that you're the daughter of a clan that would happily see mine wiped off the map? Yeah, I knew." He smirked, tilting his head as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "It's all in the eyes."

She scoffed, burying her face in her hands.

"No, seriously," he said, standing and stretching lazily. "The Eyes of Oblivion are pretty hard to miss."

Her knees pulled tighter to her chest, her voice quiet but sharp. "They were really going to kill me." She let out a hollow laugh, the sound void of humor. "If you hadn't stepped in..." Her words trailed off, swallowed by the weight of what could've been. "Did... did the others know?"

"More or less," he admitted with a small shrug. "We figured you'd come clean eventually. Then, you know, your little mishap happened."

She didn't respond, didn't even look up. Instead, she buried her face deeper into her arms and let out a shaky sigh. "I'm tired."

He slipped off his glasses, the shift in his expression so subtle it was almost imperceptible. Walking over, he gently placed the glasses atop her head, the awkward gesture drawing her gaze upward.

"I know," he said softly, his smile shifting to a softer one, almost understanding.

Their eyes met, his brilliant blue blending with her scarlet in a quiet kaleidoscope of lavender hues.

He leaned forward, carefully adjusting the glasses so they rested snugly on her nose. "Cover your eyes angel," he murmured, his voice gentle, "It reduces the fatigue."

Rina blinked, surprised by the sentiment. Slowly, a faint smile tugged at her lips. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Then it all stopped.

Ieiri replied, pulling on her second glove before glancing at the two men across the room. "Hey, you two, I'm about to get started. Are you just going to watch from there?"

Why did that memory come to mind? Rina ran a hand through her hair as she tried to blink her thoughts away.

Before the last syllable left Ieiri's mouth, the unthinkable happened. Yuji rose up, blinking rapidly as though waking from a long dream.

Rina took a step back, visibly startled. The other two men froze in place, their shock mirrored on their faces. Satoru's mouth hung agape, and Ijichi shakily raised a finger, pointing in disbelief.

Ieiri, unfazed for only a second, turned her head toward Yuji. Her eyes widened in genuine shock. "What the—?"

Yuji, seemingly unaware of the chaos his sudden revival caused, was fixated on his nude state. "Uh... where are my clothes?"

"G-Gojo," Ijichi stammered, his voice trembling as he tried to process the scene before him. "He's alive. Are you seeing this?"

Satoru placed a hand on his head, his lips curling into an incredulous chuckle. "Ijichi stop."

"I'm a little bummed," Ieiri admitted strangely, holding her mask below her face with a half-sullen expression.

"Yeah, well," Yuji started awkwardly, scratching his head, "this is a little embarrassing. Also... who are you?"

"You're alive," Rina whispered, almost to herself, her disbelief quickly giving way to a soft chuckle. "Unbelievable."

Satoru strode over to the pink-haired teenager, his grin widening. "Hey, Yuji." He raised a hand. "Welcome back."

"Yo, thanks." Yuji grinned and slapped Satoru's hand in a hearty high five.

"You couldn't have woken up at a more decent time?" Rina quipped, her voice tinged with both exasperation and amusement. She gestured to Ieiri, who was holding out a blue hospital gown.

Yuji's face flushed as he grabbed the gown. "Uh, yeah. Thanks." He pulled the garment over himself hurriedly, not realizing he wore it backwards. "Good to see you too, Akumu-sensei," Yuji replied, his voice tinged with nervous gratitude. "I'll try to schedule my miraculous resurrection better next time."

Rina crossed her arms, her lips twitching into a faint, almost reluctant smile. "Considering you just came back from the dead, I think I can let it slide."

Yuji let out a nervous laugh, his cheeks tinged pink. "Noted."

The clinking of glasses tapping against the table and the low hum of chatter filled the dimly lit restaurant.

"Satoru Gojo," Jogo, the grotesque volcano-headed curse, growled. His molten eye bore into the man sitting opposite him. The human—or what appeared to be one—had long spiky hair, a calm demeanor, and a stitched line across his forehead that seemed both grotesque and oddly elegant. He was dressed in traditional Japanese clothing, his presence both commanding and unnerving. "I wonder, could we kill him if we joined forces?"

The man, Suguru Geto, merely smirked, as though amused by the simplicity of the question. "No," he said, "He'd either flutter out of your grasp or, in the worst case, you'd all get exorcized." He paused, lifting his glass and taking a slow sip of water before setting it back down with deliberate ease. "And even if you came close to killing him, you'd still have to deal with her."

Jogo's molten gaze narrowed. "Her?"

"The Princess of Curses—Rina Akumu," Geto continued. His smirk deepened as though the mere mention of her name carried weight. "Together, they're untouchable. She's every bit as dangerous as he is."

"Rina Akumu," Jogo repeated, his irritation flared. "How do you propose we deal with her?"

Geto leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers lazily against the table. "First, let's focus on Gojo. Sealing him is our top priority." His gaze fixed on Jogo, sharp and calculating. "We'll use the special-grade cursed object, Prison Realm."

Jogo's molten eye widened, the heat radiating from him intensifying. "Prison Realm?" he echoed, his fiery crown flaring. "That horrible thing?!"

"Relax, Jogo, or you'll overheat the place.," Geto said calmly.

A waiter approached the table. "How are you, sir? Have you decided on—"

The waiter's words were cut off by a burst of flames. His body was instantly consumed, the charred remains rolling toward a nearby waitress, eliciting panicked screams from her and the other patrons.

"I wish you wouldn't cause such a commotion, Jogo," Geto said, his tone flat, though his annoyance was clear.

"Oh, this is nothing," Jogo spat with a twisted grin, the heat around him intensifying as he raised his hand to fan the flames higher.

More screams erupted as chaos broke out in the restaurant.

Geto coughed, fanning away the embers that floated dangerously close. "I'm glad we didn't choose finer dining."

Jogo huffed, lowering his flames slightly. "So, what about this so-called Princess of Curses? If we seal Gojo, won't she come for us?"

"She will," Geto admitted, a sly grin tugging at his lips. "But I have a plan for her."

Jogo tilted his head, curiosity mixing with his irritation. "What kind of plan?"

"Rina Akumu's strength lies in her overwhelming cursed energy and her ability to manipulate it with unparalleled precision," Geto explained. Something that doesn't just harm her but robs her of her advantage. A cursed weapon, designed specifically for her."

Jogo's eye glinted with interest. "What are you suggesting?"

"A cursed wound," Geto said, his voice lowering with dark intent. "A mark that reopens repeatedly, draining her cursed energy with every moment it goes untreated. If she doesn't focus all her energy on sealing it, it will sap her strength until it kills her. Dread Thorn should do the trick."

Jogo let out a low, rumbling laugh. "A wound that keeps biting back. Cynical... I like it." He leaned forward, his molten face gleaming with excitement. "Tell me, Geto, just how strong am I in terms of Sukuna's fingers?"

"As a conservative estimate?" Geto's eyes flickered with amusement. "I'd say eight or nine fingers."

"Yeah?" Jogo's grin widened, his excitement palpable. "That's plenty. Give me those two objects, and I'll add them to my collection." His tone darkened, the air around him growing oppressive. "And in return, I promise you this—I'll kill Gojo and Akumu."