The Shinobi From Hell

The Crimson-Eyed Demon

December 17th 2000:

The pitter-patter of cold rainfall filled the cold atmosphere around the enormous village of Konohagakure. A crimson-eyed silhouette sauntered through the alleyways within a rather sequestered area.

Thunder flashed across the tumultuous night-sky and brightened the features of the nonchalant silhouette. Teeth gritted in concealed annoyance, Ryomen Sukuna raised a hand over his tattooed face.

Slipping his calloused hands into his pockets, Sukuna emerged from the shadows of the alleyways and sauntered into the entrance of his apartment-complex. He rifled through his pockets for his golden key.

Unlocking the entrance to his humble home, Sukuna kicked his shoes off from his feet and stepped into his bed-room. The walls of his room were somewhat dilapidated. Sukuna slumped down into his chair.

Grabbing a towel from the top of the desk in front of him, Sukuna wiped off the water threaded into his pink-coloured hair. He blinked his four vermillion eyes before a yawn ripped itself out from his lips.

Sukuna settled down into his bed and glanced at the calendar plastered onto his cracked wall—tomorrow he had school. Suppressing his annoyance, the reincarnated individual fell asleep.

Dreams persisted and pursued him even within his unconscious mind. Memories filled his head from an old life—of a mundane teenage-boy who had perished in a car-crash. He had been a fan of manga.

Jujutsu Kaisen and Naruto were his favourite manga at the time of his unplanned death. Once he had breathed for the last time, he had found himself in a new body, in a new world, and in a new life.

He had been reincarnated into the body of Yuji Itadori—but his flesh was covered in the tattoos of Ryomen Sukuna. It was obvious enough to him that his new body was from the time Itadori was Sukuna's host.

Sukuna was kicked out from his dreams when the diligent sound of his alarm-clock inundated his ear-drums. Grunting to himself in annoyance, Sukuna swatted a hand down onto his alarm.

"Time for school I guess." Stretching his arms, Sukuna entered the bath-room and performed his morning-routine. "I got a head-ache."

Walking out of the bath-room, Sukuna changed into his standard outfit—fingerless gloves, a black t-shirt, blue trousers, and a pair of sun-glasses. He opened his balcony-door and leaped into the air.

Rolling onto several roof-tops, Sukuna jumped towards the Shinobi-Academy until he reached its front-entrance. The eleven-year-old individual walked through the corridors.

Sukuna reached his class, meandered into the room, ignored the noise of multiple discussions among his class-mates, and planted himself onto a wooden-chair at the back of the somewhat large area.

The sound of conversation lulled when Iruka Umino entered the class-room, an amicable expression grafted onto his scarred visage. He clasped his hands behind his back. "Good morning to all of you."

Closing his crimson eyes of intensity in annoyance, Sukuna remained silent and listened to the various responses from his class-mates. Iruka smiled at them. "We'll be heading to the training-grounds."

Sukuna and his fellow students rose from their seats, heading off to the Shinobi-Academy's track-and-field sector. Once outside, they were split into groups of four—these groups of four would race against each other.

This was how Iruka ensured his students would stay awake for the rest of the day at school. A little race in the morning would keep the students' blood pumping. Sukuna stepped into line for his race.