[Star Mutation Particle].
In the past, astrologers believed that all fate was predetermined, and that if one wished to kill someone in defiance of Heaven’s decree, one needed a means of twisting fate itself.
A special-grade cursed tool that severs the fate of the one it cuts and overlays it with a new fate. Its effect could truly be called the pinnacle of astrology.
Originally, it was a tool meant to kill someone who was "not fated to die here" by forcibly bestowing upon them the fate of "dying here."
But as the years passed and astrology declined, [Star Mutation Particle] was passed down to later generations as a cursed tool whose only known detail, aside from the name engraved on its hilt, was nothing at all.
To those who knew nothing of it, it was merely a sturdy, sharp sword.
This tool, rated special grade solely for the immense cursed energy contained within it, was taken from a dusty storehouse of antique cursed tools and placed in the hands of a certain boy.
In a way, it may have been inevitable that a sword capable of manipulating fate would fall into the hands of a boy carving out a fate of his own.
And so, the sword that had found a new master was swung to create a new destiny.
The place its blade was directed toward was─────
-
──Child, what is your name?
It was a memory from long ago.
I thought I had buried it long ago. Why was it surfacing now, of all times?
──What, you don’t have a name?! Then what do other people call you?
The first person who approached me and spoke words that were not curses.
──Does it matter? What matters is how you see yourself.
The person who approached without hesitation even after seeing that I was a monster with two pairs of eyes, mouths, and arms.
──Get stronger. Get strong enough to make everyone look at you again, okay? Sukuna!
"………………."
Inside Itadori Yuji’s soul lay Sukuna’s innate domain.
The Curse King, who had been resting upon a throne of bones, opened his eyes.
For a moment, Sukuna stared drowsily as though not fully awake, contemplating the dream he had just had.
Why now...? The moment I broke the promise I made with her, I should have cast aside every last feeling.
An unpleasant dream that recalled the past.
As Sukuna mulled over whether such futile thoughts still remained within him, he gave an irritated cough.
But none of that mattered. Dreams were things that evaporated once one awoke.
In truth, as his sleepiness gradually faded and his memories sharpened upon waking—
Crunch.
—he shattered the pile of bones that made up his throne.
"Zenin Daisuke...!!!"
His voice was so full of venom that even he was startled by it.
It was the name of that unpleasant man who had poured cold water over his brief enjoyment of freedom after he had been forcibly brought out to deal with the cursed spirit at the juvenile detention center.
It was that damned sword. If not for that, no matter if I had only the strength of four fingers, there’s no way I would have lost!
The next time he gained control, he would not let that man go. Just as he resolved to slowly kill him in horrific pain, screaming every sort of curse and cry imaginable, he was able to see outside through Itadori Yuji’s eyes.
How is the brat still alive when his heart was torn out and his body ended up in that state?
Just before the fight, he had ripped out Itadori Yuji’s heart in order to toy with Megumi.
There had also been injuries accumulated in the battle that followed. How?
Perhaps his curiosity had grown too strong. Without realizing it, Sukuna opened one of his own eyes that had emerged on Itadori’s body.
At that movement, Itadori realized Sukuna had awakened.
"What is it, Sukuna? You’ve been quiet for a while."
"None of your business."
Sukuna had nearly killed his friend at the juvenile detention center and had actually nearly killed Itadori himself, so Itadori’s voice was cold.
Sukuna did not care either, so he paid it no mind and looked around.
"And where are we now? This doesn’t look like the Jujutsu High you attended."
"A movie theater."
"Oh?"
Sukuna read information about movie theaters from Itadori’s memories.
"What is this? A worm man? Humans have not changed from then to now. What truly vulgar imaginations they have."
"It’s not like I’d have ever watched this movie if it weren’t for Gojo’s training. It’s kind of fun once you get into it, though."
"Who are you talking to?"
Nanami approached from some distance away, where he had been investigating the residual cursed energy scattered throughout the theater.
It was a face Sukuna had never seen before.
Nanami observed Sukuna’s eye and mouth, which had sprouted beneath Itadori Yuji’s left eye, with apparent interest.
"So this is the so-called Curse King?"
The Curse King.
Whether a thousand years ago or now, it was the term used to refer to him, Ryomen Sukuna.
Ordinarily, those words would have meant nothing to him, yet for some reason they grated on his nerves now.
Sukuna was about to spit a curse at the man, whose appearance was uncommon in Japan, when—
"First, we should begin with ‘Nice to meet you.’ My name is Nanami Kento. I have already heard much about your incarnation within Itadori. We are in the middle of an important investigation, so I ask for your cooperation for now."
"...None of my business."
"See? This is what he’s like, Nanami. And after you were so polite to him, too."
──First, we should begin with ‘Nice to meet you,’ right?
Another fragment of the past surfaced.
Ryomen Sukuna swallowed back the curse that had risen to his throat.
He did not know why he was being so sentimental.
Why were memories of the past, which he had thought were no more than a dream and would soon scatter away, resurfacing with such clarity?
It was because the stubborn cursed fate that even his technique, which severed everything, had been unable to cut away had been sliced apart by a certain boy with absurd ease.
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