Sukuna, the King of Curses, trapped in such a weak body. It was nothing short of humiliating. He loathed every second of it—the vulnerability, the restrictions. But more than that, he hated the fact that he felt everything his vessel, Yuji Itadori, felt. Every ache, every breath, every flicker of weakness. It was hell. Except when Yuji indulged in ramen. Then, for a brief moment, Sukuna found a sliver of enjoyment. The rest of the time? Utter boredom. He spent his days in his domain, sitting on a throne composed of skulls, a grim reminder of his reign as the most powerful curse.

But today… today was different. For reasons Sukuna couldn’t quite understand, Yuji let him take control. Why? He didn’t know, but Sukuna wasn’t one to question such things. What mattered was the freedom to act on his own desires for a brief moment.

When he seized control, the emotions that flooded him were overwhelming—pure, unfiltered despair. The first thing he saw was a familiar face: Kugasaki, lying dead on the floor. And beside her, a cursed spirit. Mahito. The very image of death.

Sukuna wasted no time. He wiped the curse from existence, tearing it apart without mercy. It was easy. But when the battle was over, and he returned to his domain, the silence hit him like a cold gust of wind. Yuji was still there. And for a moment, Sukuna’s usual disdain for him faltered.

He looked at Yuji Itadori, his vessel, the one he had always despised. But today, something was different. Yuji, the once vibrant fighter, no longer had the will to continue. Sukuna couldn’t help but feel a strange, unfamiliar ache deep inside him, something that twisted in his chest. His host was broken, and for the first time in a long while, Sukuna couldn’t bring himself to ignore the weight of it.

Yuji Itadori had lost the will to fight.