11 Blood on the Walls

July 3, 2018

The late afternoon sun beat down on the field, sweat trickling down my temples and stinging my eyes. I ignored it, mostly, focusing on the delicate, almost invisible threads vibrating in the air before me. This new defensive technique had been on my mind for days- well, most days. Some days it was hard to drag myself out here when there was nothing urgent to train against. Creating the thousand cuts technique was easy, but this was a different beast. The frustrating failures pushed me to try one more time before I called it quits for the day.

Finally, a meter in diameter, the threads formed a dense, cross-crossed network. Four strands extended from the edges, two anchoring onto nearby trees, the others digging into the earth. The whole structure shimmered faintly, then settled, a freestanding barrier. A weary grin spread across my face.

"After all this time..." I whispered, reaching out to touch the taut threads. 

The field's solitary peace was broken by a voice. "Murakami! So this is where you've been hiding." Sumiko walked towards me, her footsteps muffled by the dry grass. "Ijichi wants us in the classroom right away. Emergency briefing or something."

My focus shattered, the threads winked out. "Emergency briefing?" I echoed, disappointment and a prickle of adrenaline mixing in my gut.

Sumiko nodded, a slight frown creasing her brow. "He sounded serious. Said all of us first years."

All of us... whatever was happening must be big, but why not go to a more experienced group? For now, I brushed the frustration aside. "Let's head back then. At least I finally got this technique down," I said, gesturing towards the empty space where the threads had hung. It wasn't much, but maybe, just maybe, it would be enough.

The silence in the classroom wasn't just the usual respectful quiet. It had a weight that tightened the air around us. Ijichi's voice cut through the tension, not with the bombastic news I had feared, but with something... worse.

"A severe situation has developed at a detention center in West Tokyo City," he began, his tone grim. "Several civilians have been caught within the range of a cursed spirit."

He let those words hang in the air, observing our reactions. His eyes scanned the room, lingering on each of us. I could almost feel the unasked question- were we ready?

"Initial reports suggest a curse womb is involved," he continued. "However, there's a further complication..." His voice trailed off, replaced by a silence more chilling than any outright declaration of danger.

It was Fushiguro who finally broke the tension. "Sir, is it a Special Grade?"

Ijichi hesitated. A flicker of uncertainty, or was it regret, crossed his usually stoic features. Finally, he nodded. "We believe it may become Special Grade if left unchecked."

I couldn't hold back the question that burned in my mind. "Sir, with all due respect, if there's a chance it's THAT powerful, why us? Every minute wasted getting backup here could mean lives lost. This doesn't feel right."

Kugisaki and Itadori nodded in agreement, even Sumiko's normally composed expression held a touch of unease.

Ijichi squared his shoulders, a glimmer of respect, or was it sadness, flashing in his eyes. "Murakami, your concerns are valid. This is a gamble, I won't deny that. But understand, resources are stretched thin right now. Every experienced sorcerer available is already deployed elsewhere..."

He didn't need to finish the sentence. With a sudden clarity, I understood. We were the B-Team -" expendable pawns thrown in to slow down a disaster.

Ijichi's voice brought me back to the present. "...Be by the car in 15, we leave then."

As he strode from the room, dread filled the void left by my fading anger. One question burned within me: even if we miraculously survived whatever awaited us in West Tokyo, could we truly trust the people sending us to our deaths?

Ijichi drove with a grim focus that mirrored the set of my jaw. Outside, the sprawling cityscape of Tokyo faded into blurred shapes. It felt like seconds ago that I was sweating in that field, not yet understanding the weight of my duty as a sorcerer. Now, as the harsh sunlight gave way to a softer gold, then a gloomy twilight, the world seemed to wash out into shades of gray. Familiar landmarks blurred past, each making me realize just how far we were going from the safety of Jujutsu Tech.

Wedged between Kugisaki and Sumiko, I was hyper-aware of every detail. Kugisaki practically filled my lap, the scent of her shampoo a potent distraction from the dread gnawing at my gut. On my right, Sumiko's slight form barely took up space, but worry etched itself onto her usually calm features.

In front of us, Fushiguro stared out the window, his face a mask in the dashboard's dim glow. He finally broke the silence, his voice a low rasp, "If it is Special Grade, containment is our priority. Evacuate everyone we can."

Sumiko asked. "Evacuate? We can't just run away."

"We can't face it directly either," I interjected. "Not without Gojo-sensei."

A sigh escaped Kugisaki, and the movement jostled her closer. I stole a glance, but the darkness hid her expression. Was that annoyance, or a flicker of fear in her eyes?

"We gotta try something, right?" Itadori persisted, his voice laced with a desperate need for reassurance.

Fushiguro didn't answer. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the handrail. Despair settled over me. We weren't just facing a monster, we were facing a deadly choice, one that could cost us everything.

Ijichi's voice finally cut through the suffocating quiet. "Eishuu Detention Center â€" 3km." His tone was flat, devoid of any hope.

Three kilometers. It wasn't just distance anymore, it was the countdown to an unknown horror. And worse, the countdown to a moment when one of us might not be in this cramped car anymore. I glanced at Kugisaki again. In the faint light, her face was a mask of worry. Was this her last night, forced to share this cramped space with me, feeling the weight of the unknown press down on us both?

We were pawns, just kids, thrust into this nightmare by people who probably wouldn't spare us a second thought if we failed. The SUV lurched around a sharp bend, and the lights went out. The only thing left was darkness and the relentless drumming of my own terrified heart.

The SUV jolted to a stop. Ijichi's voice cut through the darkness, clinical and bleak. "All civilians within a 500-meter radius have been evacuated. If you run into the Special Grade, get out of there. Your only mission is to confirm if there are survivors. If you find some, strive to rescue them to the bitter end."

My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. Survivors. Was finding them even possible? A flicker of movement caught my eye. Headlights carved a path through the gloom, revealing a cluster of figures beside a police barricade.

Ijichi stepped out, and the group moved towards us with a grim urgency. My stomach twisted. The weight of their hushed tones, the strained faces...it was a stark reminder of the lives we held in our hands.

Suddenly, a voice pierced the oppressive silence. "Excuse me, sir! Tell me! Where's my son?"

I flinched. An older woman fought against the arms of a man in a suit, her face etched with worry and desperation. "Where's Tadashi? I need to know if my son is okay?"

Ijichi's reply was calm, practiced, yet utterly devoid of comfort. "Please leave madam, it's possible that someone set off poisonous gas in the compound. I'm afraid we can't share any more details at this time."

The woman crumpled to her knees, despair choking her cries. "No way...why is this happening..."

I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms. At the same moment, Itadori's voice cut through the silence. "We'll save them."

"We will," I echoed, the words fueled more by desperation than confidence. Kugisaki and Sumiko nodded in agreement.

The woman's sobs filled the air, a haunting counterpoint to our silent promises. Ijichi gestured towards the looming shadow of the Detention Center. "Time is of the essence. Let's move." He didn't need to tell us twice.

The woman's sobs faded behind us as Ijichi led the way towards the Detention Center, his footsteps echoing in the tense silence. 

"Alright, I'm bringing down the 'screen.' Please be careful," Ijichi murmured.

He closed his eyes as he chanted, "That which frightens more than darkness itself... That which is darker than black... Purify this defilement."

We all looked up, a dark, inky substance descended from the sky, enveloping the Detention Center in a protective dome.

Fushiguro spoke quietly, "The screen is to hide us from the outside."

The barrier pressed down around us and suddenly, Fushiguro made a quick hand sign and said, "Jade Hound." A shadow flickered into existence beside him, a white wolf-like creature formed entirely of cursed energy.

"He'll let us know when the curse is closer," Fushiguro explained.

The Jade Hound sniffed the air, ears pricked, then padded silently ahead.

We entered the building, and everything shifted.

The interior didn't match the Detention Center's layout, not even close. Instead of a cramped hallway, we stood in what looked like an impossibly vast dormitory. Row after row of buildings and pipes stretched into the darkness, the ceiling soaring high enough to vanish in the gloom.

"What the hell is this?" The words tore from my throat before I could stop them.

Sumiko's voice quivered, echoing my own unease. "This is supposed to be a two-story dorm building, right?"

"Maybe it's a condo? Chill out," Kugisaki's usual bravado sounded forced even to my own ears.

Fushiguro's voice held a forced steadiness, a tightness to it now. "No. This isn't a condo. It's... an Innate Domain. The territory of a curse, created from its cursed energy. I've never seen one this big before."

I whirled, searching for a way out. "Where's the door?"

Everyone turned. Where a normal exit should have been, there was only a tangle of pipes and concrete, the once familiar passageway simply... gone. I choked back a wave of panic.

Fushiguro's voice sliced through the silence, "The dog still remembers the smell of the entrance."

A wave of relief washed over me, so intense it almost made me dizzy. Sumiko let out a shaky breath and reached down to scratch the Jade Hound's ears. "Good boy," she murmured.

Itadori's relief took a different turn. He grinned, his usual exuberance cracking through the tension, and clapped a hand on Fushiguro's shoulder. "Wow, Fushiguro, you're really reliable! People can be saved because of you, and we can save ourselves!"

Fushiguro hesitated, a flicker of something I couldn't read crossing his face. Then he just said, "Follow me," and took a single step forward into the darkness.

The Jade Hound slunk silently ahead of him and behind me, I heard the hesitant crunch of footsteps as the others followed. We snaked through the seemingly endless dorm, the hound sniffing intently, taking twists and turns that blurred together in my rattled mind.

The oppressive silence was broken when the hound suddenly whined and veered to the left, leading us into a vast, empty room. Moonlight filtered through the high, barred windows, casting long shadows across the cracked concrete floor.

Suddenly, Sumiko gasped. My stomach lurched as I followed her gaze. Splashed across the far wall was a smear of crimson, and within that stain...the remnants of a body. Legs ripped away, one arm a mangled stump, the torso a half-eaten husk.

"Oh God..." Kugisaki's voice was barely a whisper, choked with horror.

A wave of nausea washed over me, mingled with a jolt of sickening dread. Did we arrive too late? Were the patients they were meant to save...already victims?

Before I could voice the question, Itadori rushed to the remains, stumbling on the uneven floor. He dropped to his knees and I followed, the smell of blood and decay suddenly thick in the air.

"Looks like..." Fushiguro started. His voice trailed off, and he swallowed hard. "Looks like three bodies accounted for."

Itadori bent closer, fumbling for something on the mutilated corpse. He tugged at something white poking from a ruined uniform pocket. A nametag. He squinted, struggling to read it in the dimness.

And then the nametag caught the moonlight, and I saw the name clear as day: Tadashi. We were too late.

"Help me carry this body," Itadori said.

I nodded, bending alongside him. Kugisaki opened her mouth as if to protest.

"But..."

"The face isn't too mangled," I interrupted.

"How can she accept his death without a body to prove it?" Itadori muttered, his voice a hoarse whisper.

I heard the sound of footsteps come closer and felt myself get pulled backward. My feet stumbled for balance as I whirled.

Fushiguro stood there, his hands clamped tightly onto our collars.

"Get the fuck off me!" I slapped his hand away, glaring at him.

"We still have to find two more people. Leave that body behind."

"That makes no sense!" Itadori's voice cracked in protest. "The way we came inside isn't even there anymore, there's no way we can come back for him."

"I didn't say we would come back, I said to leave it behind!" Fushiguro yelled, his grip on Itadori's collar tightening.

"What?" I gaped at him, my voice tinged with disbelief.

"I'm not gonna risk my life for someone I had no intention of saving in the first place. So forget it!"

The name on the tag, Tadashi, blurred for a moment, the memory of the woman's desperate pleas outside ringing in my ears. Was this it? Was this really how it went for Jujutsu sorcerers?

"You had no intention of saving them in the first place?" The words twisted uncomfortably in my gut.

"You're joking, right?" Itadori's voice was taut, disbelief etched on his face.

Fushiguro didn't back down, jaw set. "It's a juvenile detention center. As a jujutsu sorcerer, I had access to information about this guy..."

A fury ignited inside me. "What the hell does that have to do with bringing closure to his mom!?" I roared, the rage vibrating in my throat.

My outburst was sliced short by Itadori's words, his voice raw and broken. "If he's not worth saving, then why did you bother saving me?"

Sumiko tried to step in. "Hey guys, calm down. We need to focus on the mission."

Her plea was lost in a sudden surge of chaos. "What the hell is wrong with you three!?" Kugisaki's voice rang out, sharp with frustration. "Are you guys idiots? This is hardly the place to be argu-"

Kugisaki's words disappeared in a startled gasp. One second she was berating us, the next she was gone, swallowed by a puddle of inky darkness that hadn't been there a moment before.

"Kugisaki?" Itadori stared in confusion at the empty space.

My stomach twisted into a tight knot. Fushiguro's words came out fast and sharp. "No way," he rasped, "The Jade Dog should have sensed it."

My gaze shot around, barely registering the Jade Dog's head protruding from the wall, eyes glazed over. A chill washed over me as Sumiko whispered, "Oh no-"

"We have to find her!" I didn't know if it was a plea or a command.

"Right now, we have to ru-"" Fushiguro's urgency bled into a gasp.

Our eyes widened in unison, zeroing in on the grotesque figure that now stood between us three. A muscular humanoid curse, its skin a sickly pale, shimmered in the dim light. 

A wave of energy washed over us, a sickening, oppressive force that made my muscles lock. My brain, always quick to react, was now a screaming void. There was only pure, unfiltered terror. It rooted me to the spot, my feet refusing to budge.

Move! Move! I have to move! The thought echoed through my mind, desperate and hollow. Yet my body seemed carved from stone, a statue facing a monstrous foe.

Fushiguro and Itadori stood beside me, their expressions mirrored my own. Three petrified figures in the path of a being born from nightmares.

A primal roar ripped from my throat. I lunged forward, not even thinking, just pure instinct pushing me to protect them. My right palm pulsed with my curse technique, and with a guttural cry, I unleashed it.

"Thousand cuts!"

Near invisible threads, razor-sharp and countless, sliced through the air. They tore across the curse's flesh, leaving hundreds of shallow gashes.

But, the damage was laughably minimal. Even as the cuts crisscrossed its form, they began to heal, fading like ink on wet paper. A chill ran down my spine, a deep, bone-deep cold that had nothing to do with the damp air. Each ragged breath echoed in my ears, a useless struggle against the impossible odds.

Itadori screamed. Slaughter Demon unsheathed-" a flash of red. Then the curse moved, too fast, a blur, and blood, so much blood, splattering the wall. My gaze snapped left. Itadori, a frozen statue, his eyes...no hand...just...gone. Slaughter Demon on the floor, broken.

Frantic, I lashed out again. "Thousand cuts!" I needed to buy time, to give them a chance to escape.

But again, the torrent of cuts only elicited a grunt from the curse. The wounds healed faster than they formed. The creature, annoyed but unharmed, held out one massive palm. A sickening swirl of pure cursed energy pulsed and churned within it, like a storm about to unleash its fury.

Instinct took over. I dove to the ground, a heartbeat before a blast of energy roared overhead. 

"Sumiko!" The word tore from Fushiguro's throat. 

I spun around. My heart hammered against my ribs as I saw her, eyes wide with shock. A perfect, circular hole had punched clean through Sumiko's chest. She swayed slightly, then crumpled to the ground, unmoving. 

That's when my world splintered. Kugisaki- unknown. Itadori- maimed. Sumiko- gone. My mind raced, a desperate scramble to reverse what seemed irreversible. It wasn't a fight anymore, it was a slaughter. And if I didn't think of something fast, none of us are making it out alive.