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"you ate it?" the white haired male questioned again, sighing as he brought his fingers to the bridge of his nose, pinching the flesh, "well. do you feel like you're going to die?"
what kind of question is that? itadori pats himself, especially the chest, as if checking for internal wounds; that would definitely appear on the outside of his body. however, he feels fine. maybe a slightly raised heartbeat, as he had just been in a fight with a weird monster, but beyond that he's completely fine. there's no sudden flash of illness dawning over him, there's ... just nothing. his stomach feels a little funny, sure, but he also just ate a finger that looked hundreds of years old, so could he really be blamed for that?
"no...?" itadori drew out the ending of his word into a question, as if not sure why he should feel like he's going to die. sure, he feels light headed, and his stomach has this weird pain and his heart rate is spike-- is he going to die? well, shit. of course this random grown man just had to put the thought of death into his mind, because now he's freaking out!
mentally he feels on a spiral. a rollercoaster, as if he had just started the transcend upwards -- arguably, the worst part of rollercoasters to him. the expense, the waiting for the inevitable drop, the waiting... the waiting.. and the waiting. this is it, he thought. he's going to die. right here, in front of these two random strangers he's never seen a day in his life -- who weren't doing a thing to help him. oh, god, this is it.
the rollercoaster in his mind had finally reached the inevitable peak of the ride, where he's just waiting to fall dramatically. he can envision it in his mind -- the railings, the holding on to life. quite literally in this sense, but ... his final destination wasn't death, was it? something, deep down, is telling him otherwise.
and maybe it's this fear that blinded him from realizing he no longer had control of his body. maybe, it's this fear that blinded him from the reality that he cannot see ... that he's unconscious, but his body is conscious. god, is that even a thing?
black markings appeared on his body. most notable in circles, as if appearing like rings. the markings covered his body -- face, torso, arms, everywhere just about. a sigh drew from his body's lips, as his pink hair was now messed with; causing it to appear more spiked. afterall, that's how the king of curses likes it.
"life, at last," sukuna speaks, stretching his limbs out as if he's been dead for centuries. in a way, he has. but in reality, he knows the reality. he's been sealed, trapped away like some lousy zoo animal. he can't stand that reality, but it would be less horrible if you existed. surely, you were brought back too? and kenjaku had kept his promise?
"where's y/n?" sukuna spat out in a harsh tone. you're the only thing on his mind, he couldn't even bring himself to care that he's in a teenager's body. he just wants you. he wants to see his little witch again. it had been so long, afterall.
"i don't know who y/n is, sukuna," the white haired male spoke -- clearly apart of the gojo clan -- sukuna's seen it all before. and frankly, he could can't even be bothered. he's killed several of the clan already, in his past -- where you were around.
"then why am i fucking here?" he spat, crossing his arms over his chest. it feels ... weird only having two arms, it feels wrong. as if it's incorrect and he needs his other two. hell, he only had two of everything! two eyes, two arms.
"because... the kid ate one of your fingers," gojo says, acting as if it's obvious information.
his red eyes narrow as he stares into gojo's eyes, drawing closer step by step. step by step, another set. it's a repeated motion until he's stood directly in front of the taller male, his hand reaching out and grabbing onto his clothing. "you'll be the first one i kill, if you don't get me fucking y/n."
his words hold a lot of merrit, a lot of threat. as well, with as little information sukuna has to go on, he feels that he could easily kill gojo. afterall, he doesn't know all of the male's abilities and he's killed several of his ancestors. how hard could it be to kill an overgrown brat?
"you couldn't kill me."
"i can. and i will."
"we'll revisit this, hm?" gojo mused. he acts as if this whole thing is a game -- when it's clearly not. sukuna just wants one thing, one. he could care less about even returning to full strength -- he's willing to be weak, if it meant he's with you.
he doesn't know why he longs for you so much. perhaps, he just misses your presence and all of the memories between you two. maybe it's the nostalgia, he doesn't know -- and he doesn't care. well, deep down he cares. he's had these feelings for so long .. he just never knew what exactly to call them.
he remembers everything between you two. everything. he remembers the way you didn't fear him when you first met, in fact you came too him looking for that arrangement. he remembers the way your eyes lit up when he listened to you talk about witchcraft -- how you always seemed so excited to share your knowledge with him, even if he knows it all already. he remembers the way you'd lean into him, allow him to steal small and simple touches -- like guiding your hands. oh, how he loved stealing small and simple touches from you.
your face would always heat up and you would always look away from him. it was the one instance he actually got to see you that way, and oh, how he loved it. acting all shy -- despite your major attitude problem -- just because of him. the most beloved memory of his, of this exact thing, was when he was teaching you a simple recipe. a potion for greater healing, if you will; one that dealt with internal injuries.
he was pressed up against you, closely behind you, and his larger hands were wrapped around your much smaller ones. he would guide your hands on gathering the ingredients, whispering what they were for into your ear, and he even slipped a few chances to hold onto your hand while he was showing you how to work on grinding down the herbs. you were so shy, hardly even said a word at all during that whole exchange and you would always make that small "tch" sound. your unique sound, that's not quite a laugh yet not quite a giggle either. a chuckle, maybe --
-- and sukuna loved it, he craved for it more.
so, naturally, he put you in more situations like that. all the time. but now he can't do that anymore. he can only long for you, and long for the slim chance he gets to do experience the pure bliss and joy he felt with you again.
maybe in another life time, hm? or perhaps you'd grace him with your appearance in this one, which is preferred, but with the way gojo is speaking ... sukuna knows better. he isn't a stupid man, after all. rash? impulsive? greedy? yes, but stupid? absolutely not.
"come with me, and we can get you your y/n," gojo says quietly, tugging sukuna's hand off from his shirt, a sigh leaving his lips.
sukuna should've knew better than to let the brat itadori come back, but it seemed the most logical thing to do in that instance. after all ... there isn't much sukuna can do; he'd refuse to follow a member of the gojo clan blindly, but he can let itadori do it for him.
and he can sit in his domain, on top his throne of bones, just longing for you. thinking of all the memories that he desires more of.
