pomegranate ink | y. okkotsu

prologue

a/n: fun fact guys i actually love yuta!! no fr though i feel like he doesn't have that many fics abt him quite yet just because he hasn't been animated much and the film hasn't released internationally (SOON THOUGH!!) so i'm taking the moment to write my own 🤩 as always this will probably follow the anime/manga and eventually have spoilers for both so read at your own risk.

disclaimer: i do not own jujutsu kaisen or any characters, plot, settings, etc. that you recognize. my original characters and whatnot are mine though :)

possible tw for a mention of borderline suicidal thoughts??? very minor but i'd rather over-tag than the inverse

A heavy pressure settled on your chest as you stared at the body in front of you. It was a man, probably twice your age but no less handsome for it. Inky black curls stuck to a feverish face, gone pale from pain. He tossed and turned fitfully, his bare torso shining with sweat as you trembled with terror.

"It's alright," your father said, placing his hand on your shoulder, "You can do this. Relax a little and remember your training."

"It's never worked before," you said tearfully, "How can you expect it to do so now?"

"His life is in your hands. It will work, because there is no other option," he said. You set your palms on the fallen sorcerer's chest, drawing upon your cursed energy. This first part was easy; you were more than proficient with using your family's inherited technique.

The weak spots that belonged to every human glowed a cheery white — the nape of the neck, the jaw, the heart. The newly created ones were a furious red, pulsating in a steady rhythm. These were the ones you had to treat and regenerate by utilizing your Reverse Cursed Technique.

Though the Dissection part of the technique was simple, its Reversal was anything but. The technique itself was nothing special, nothing of note — it simply pointed out the weak spots of an opponent. Compared to the inherited techniques of most other important clans, it was downright weak. But that was not where your family earned its importance in jujutsu society: you were not fighters nor leaders. You were healers — or at least, you were supposed to be. Something in your genetic bloodline made Reverse Cursed Techniques natural and easy-won.

Your father was quick and efficient, with a ruthlessness to his light touch as he reconstructed muscles and bones, creating something out of nothing and restoring function to long-useless limbs. Your great-grandfather had supposedly healed an entire army in a matter of minutes once, and legends had it that an ancestor of yours from the Heian period had even resurrected his wife from near-death.

The latter tale was a romantic one that your mother often read in a vain attempt to inspire you, even a little. He loved her so much, she recited, over and over, that he was willing to reach into the darkest depths of his soul to save her.

This was the downside of Reversed Cursed Techniques. In order to create positive energy, it was necessary to multiply negativity by negativity. And this was the step you were unable to do — that reaching into your soul, that bleeding yourself dry for the sake of others.

You were not a healer, or at least you had no aptitude for it. You were the family's greatest disappointment, a girl who wanted to be a warrior but at this rate was destined to be nothing more than a housewife.

The fact that you were the only heir to the L/N name only compounded this disappointment tenfold. How would your prized Reverse Cursed Technique, Composition, be passed down if the line ended with you, the useless child who could not so much as fix a papercut?

You tried. Feeling the man's pain and knowing you had to fix it, you tried to rip the hurt out of your soul and mold it into something malleable, something workable, something with which you could soothe his injuries, which were nearing the point of irreversible fatality.