Floating Like a Lilo ── Itadori Yuuji (✓)

08 HOW TO SAVE A HUMAN LIFE

DON'T YOU EVER TAME YOUR DEMONS
BUT ALWAYS KEEP 'EM ON A LEASH

arsonist's lullaby,
hozier

The rain is relentless in the wake of midnight, wet ash melting away on the concrete you stand on. The callous gaze of a deity was made ever so evident with the freezing winds. It is the type of coldness that reaches into your bones, as if your heart was a door left wide open to the icy wind, slamming only to open again.

You look up, letting water droplets graze your cheeks coldly, watching natural black tug at the stars in the same way a mother held her new-born. Eyes wrought with fear and turmoil turn and twist at the darkness ahead; the anxiety curled up in your bones threatens to destroy you.

"I have to go," You say suddenly, "We've waited long enough."

Fushiguro has an unwavering expression tightening in his irises, "Don't you trust Itadori?"

You don't meet his eyes, "Of course, I trust him. But, I don't trust Sukuna and I can't help but think that sitting here and doing nothing is going to get Itadori killed."

The rain sends a chill down your spine and you inhale, striding forwards but Fushiguro's fingers curl around the wrist of your black uniform.

"Stop," He says, "You're just getting yourself killed. We're supposed to be saving people."

You purse your lips, "We are saving people! We couldn't save that woman's son, so I have to do everything I can to be of use."

"[First Name]!" He yells, "Think straight. You need to clear your head-"

As he speaks, your eyes cast their gaze sadly on the juvenile detention centre but recoil; the air becomes faintly thin. The colours of the world fizzle like something supernatural has disturbed the finely woven tapestry of time. It was like feeling a million goosebumps ingrained onto your skin at once, hairs as sharp as knives at the thought of a curse.

"What... was that?" You stumble, struggling to speak.

Fushiguro hurries forwards, "The Innate Domain's closed off! The special-grade cursed spirit is dead."

The image of that monster returns to the surface of your tarnished mind, brimming in a lake of sinners; that curse... was dead? That curse and it's wide grin that looked like it would devour you whole and the loop of Itadori's hand being cut off replays over and over again in your head.

"Now we just need Itadori to return safely-" You begin, but then your heart jumps at what cuts your sentence off - that aura.

"Sorry," The voice crows, appearing behind Fushiguro, who seems to be frozen in place from fear, "But he's not coming back."

Your heart is palpitating in your ribcage, as if it might explode just from the terror of hearing that voice, feeling the inexplicable pain and power that this person radiated.

Shaking, you shift your head and look slightly to the left of Fushiguro, eyes fixed on him. Everything about him was the same and yet so different, two sides of a coin that battled with the wrath of human anatomy.

You watch the fine lines of heaven and hell blur with the outline of this man, this monster, this god. Itadori's features beckon you, but not with the comforting warmth they normally bring. Instead, the bubblegum pink riddled in his hair and the dash of chestnut brown in his eyes are nothing more than slates of illusions wiped clean.

The marks on his face are as black as the heart of death, curving the sharpness of his jaw and amplifying the darkness beneath his eyes.

"Don't be so frightened," Sukuna drawls and you hate it. He's in Itadori's body and has his appearance and stands with slouching shoulders and hands in pockets - it's as if nothing is wrong. "I'm in a great mood right now. Let's chat for a bit."