TAKE MY HEART, PULL IT APART

AND TAKE MY BRAIN, OR WHAT REMAINS

AND THROW IT ALL AWAY

body,

Through the brief slumber in the back of Ijichi's car came a meditative bliss. Your skull feels tampered with as you rest your head on the seat. The headache tells you it was time to rest someplace quiet, to ride out the storm within your brain, for in time pain does ebb. Quietly, though. Pain is somehow loud enough that it's quiet.

You exhale sharply, thinking about earlier that morning. Shoko had tried to assure you and Itadori that the human aspect of those curses had died well before you killed them. You seemed hollow at her words when she spoke over the phone but then again, your mind seems to be everywhere and nowhere at once. Thoughts overlapping each other, twisting and turning and strangling you until maybe you're no longer you, you're just... an echo of someone you want to be but can't.

Itadori blinks, leaning forwards and pointing to a figure down the street, "Is that him?"

As soon as he says this, his seatbelt snaps back into action and his spine falls back against his seat rather comically. "Ouch!" He whines, rubbing his tailbone sorely and you weakly smile; he always does this and you don't know how. He makes your lips tug with nostalgia when reminincising the beauty of this world which was something you sorely needed given how dark the nature of curses could be.

You take your eyes off him, those gentle brown eyes and sad but kind smile, and look outside of the window, taking in how dry the skies seemed. And still, they were a dark empty grey, like painted walls rather than the eye of a stormy hurricane, glossed over from years of seeing horrors. This city did seem to crawl with curses amongst other things. It was terrifyingly quiet, too. Far too quiet following the horrors of that morning.

Silence was not unfamiliar to you, just a little too wistful for your lines of thinking. It was a tranquil state just out of your reach, but you longed to listen to nothing, to banish the voices and never hear them again. They were only echoes, remnants of what was real and long gone, lost in the void of your eternally cursed mind. They were shadows that lurked in the crevices of darkness, dancing as they cackled and screamed and cried.

The boy in question, probably your age, was walking just ahead of the car. Your eyes settle on such sable blackness that drowned the strands of his hair as they mulled on the sides. Yoshino Junpei looked less of a teenager and more of a hobo given how wrinkly his clothes seemed; a bland, white shirt, brandless and bleak; baggy trousers that looked comfortable from afar. Even the way he walked, so mindless in thought as if living in that moment. You envy that feeling.

"Hm," A light murmur escapes your lips the more your eyes dwell on his figure, "Casual clothes?"

Ijichi nods, thin lips pursed as he drives. His glasses slowly fall down the ridge of his nose as he tilts his head in observation, "It looks like he hasn't attended school for some time."

"The same could be said about me," Itadori replies and then he turns to face you, "Oh, how are the others?"

Your lips twitch in a feverish smile just knowing that at this very moment that Kugisaki was probably being spun around a million times by Panda. If you listen carefully, maybe you'll hear her faint shrieking.

"They're doing well," Your response elicits a glisten in Itadori's eyes; he returns the smile, a wide one that momentarily splits his cheeks.

He looks ahead again, "So what do we do?"

Ijichi looks down at the passenger seat, "We use that."

Your eyes widen, "What the hell is that?! A cursed spirit?"

The creature hisses eerily as it's large eyes swivel from the noises. Both of it's arms were clutching the cage that traps it. The bars are lined with tape, unreadable symbols from ancient times scrawled onto the surface.

"It's a fly head," Ijichi explains, "A low-level curse that doesn't even qualify as grade 4. Once we reach a place with no people, we'll have it attack him."

"Huh?!" A crick violently rocks your neck from turning your head too fast. You remain surprised as you nurse the temporary injury, "We'll have it what? That's... that's mad."

Ijichi rolls his eyes, "There are four possible outcomes from this."

if he's a normal person who can't perceive curses then you and Itadori-kun can save him please.

if he can perceive it, but has no means to deal with it, likewise, please save him. Then we'll question him about the day of the incident.

if he exorcises the fly head with jujutsu... we'll immediately restrain him.

Itadori gulps, "By force?"

"By force," Ijichi fixes his glasses, the frame makes a click as it is pushed up his nose, "If it's a misunderstanding, that's fine. We'll apologise. However...."

if Yoshino Junpei possesses jujutsu potential equal to or greater than a grade 2 sorcerer, we retreat and meet back up with Nanami-san.

"I think I can just barely handle a grade 2," Itadori murmurs while thinking, wondering how this situation was going to pan out.

"If this were a cursed spirit, yes," Ijichi sighs deeply upon seeing confusion unfurl on your face, "Fushiguro-kun must have mentioned it before but a grade 2 sorcerer would be expected to defeat a grade 2 cursed spirit. Therefore, grade 2 sorcerers have the strength of nearly a grade 1 cursed spirit."

You try and wrap your head around the measurement system, "Man... why weren't we ever told about this?!" (Maybe you spaced out when it happened. You do that an awful lot.)

Ijichi exhales, shoulders slouching as if to comment on the irresponsibility of Gojo-sensei but then, he opens the car door, "We'll get out of the car here."

Itadori purses his lips, "Feels like I have to do all the work and I don't like this," His ribcage rattles from the cold air as he breathes.

You lightly tap his shoulder, "It's okay, I can do it, Itadori-kun."

"I know you can," Itadori beams, "You're strong, [L/n]."

Itadori moves over to the opposite side of the car, his reflection cast on the starlit black. While he opens the door to retrieve the fly head, you catch a glimpse of Junpei drifting further away, idealising his life for what you perceive to be a taste of normality. You watch and you watch and you watch, until Itadori gives you the cage with a reassuring smile and you fix your attention on the beady little cursed spirit fluttering about like a twisted butterfly.

There's more to Yoshino Junpei than what meets the eye.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

"Hmm," Ijichi narrows his beady eyes in trepidation behind a street lamp pole. He sneaks over on his knees, "Here we go, Itadori-kun! [L/n]-san!"

Itadori points to the side, "Time out! There's someone else here!" He says in a hushed whisper. However, at the same time, the fly head escapes from the cage in your hands and exhaling sharply, you sprint after it, leaping into the air.

You were so fixed on getting the fly head back that you didn't realise you had inadvertently let your path converge with where Junpei and the stranger were conversing. The fly head wiggles in your hands as you fly through the air. It was a sight you desperately would not be captured on film from how embarrassing it was. (You know that if Gojo-sensei was here he would definitely whip out his phone and smile for a selfie.)

And then, because nothing ever seems to go your way, you land straight on Junpei, tackling him to the ground. His eyes are more visible now that you're so close to him. The outline was faded, lost as it weaved in and between sight, like a light-hearted ghost trapped between dimensions. It was soul-wearing the more you gazed into them but you understand now.

So you can see it.

The stranger scratches the back of his head, "What? You a gymnast or something?"

You lean in, centimetres from Junpei's face, "Hey, I have some things I want to ask you about. Will you come with me?"

Junpei opens his mouth but nothing coherent comes out, just a splutter from the nervousness that wracks his expression. His mind is clustered, thoughts pressed against each other in a mad jumble, and panic arises soon after. You help him get to his feet, dusting off your skirt.

His eyes skirt around your uniform, as if examining it. Before you can get a chance to explain or apologise for being so sudden, the stranger cuts in.

"Hold on," He complains, "He and I were just talking. You're so rude!" He pulls on your shoulder and you have half a mind to not elbow him directly in the jaw for being so wild.

Shaking his grip off, you manage to regain your composure, "Uh, well, it's a rather important matter."

"An important matter?" He scoffs, "You're just a kid! What's so important? And what kind of uniform is--"

And then, something happens that you did not most certainly expect. Itadori appears from thin air, as if waiting for the perfect moment to ambush and pulls down the stranger's trousers.

"Itadori?!" You put your hand to your mouth, choking back a sudden laugh. While you double over, the man looks like he could die from the embarrassment, "What are you doing, you brat?!"

"Stop! Stop it!" But you watch on as Itadori tugs on the hem of the greyish trousers and then pulls them completely off the man, leaving him on the street with nothing but those american rose underpants.

You feel Itadori take your hand; his touch is familiar now. He always holds your hand to help calm your nerves and you do the same. "Let's go, [L/n]-san!"

And he tugs at you, running off into the distance and you follow in pursuit. The pair of trousers are ruffled from the gust of wind that follows in your wake. You laugh like you're laughing for infinity. The giggle was an auditory hug. It wends its way through the summer air and for a moment, you lock eyes with Junpei.

Itadori doesn't even break a sweat but you're almost on par with him now from all the track practice back in school. That punishment set by Coach to run 30 laps seems to have paid off after all. You turn the corner sharply with him, having skidded along the hugging tarmac to catch up with him.

"Okay, now, let's go!" He returns to Junpei casually. You huff a little behind him, catching your breath.

Junpei displays shock on his face, "Huh?! That was fast! You already ran that entire lap?!"

"Yep," Itadori sticks his hands in his pockets calmly while you follow.

Junpei lets his hands fall to his sides, fingers gently playing with the outside of his trousers, "You could have just dragged me away," He says sheepishly.

Itadori walks around, "Well, sure."

"But you hate that guy, don't you?" You say suddenly and you watch Junpei's expression change.

He looks embarrassed, "How did you..."

You smile a little, fiddling with your fingers, "Just a hunch. Oh, was I wrong?"

"You're not wrong," Junpei admits, looking a little weathered. He seems straightforward and relatively innocent. A curtailed innocence hangs about his small figure.

"You don't want someone you hate loitering in front of your home forever, right?" Itadori scratches the back of his head, "Let's head over there for a while."

He starts walking off in the direction he points at, leaving a stunned Junpei standing on the street next to you. You pat his shoulder, noticing how stiff his spine seemed to be and how young he was too, "It's ok, Emo. We're not gonna hurt you."

He tilted his head, one of his pale hands reaching to press his fingers against his cheek, "Okay..." The dark bags under his eyes refused to disappear and he twitched, thinking about all the possibilities.

You clutch the fly head in your hands with a shaky breath, "It's been a long day, Junpei-san. Let's just get this over with."