The hideout was carved from stone, its walls bare and featureless. No marks, no wards, nothing to suggest it belonged to anyone. A place that could vanish from memory the moment one stepped outside. It was here that Uraume laid down her burden.
Itadori Yuji remained frozen in a shell of ice, his body stiff and pale. Frost clung to his lashes, his chest unmoving. For a moment, it seemed as though he might have been a corpse. But Uraume knew better. She had kept him alive, suspended in a prison of her own making.
She touched the ice with the flat of her palm. Thin tendrils of steam rose as she began to unravel her own work, the surface cracking and melting away in quiet fragments.
Kenjaku stood nearby, his expression relaxed, his grin patient. "So, you return with him intact," he said lightly. "Any interference?"
Her eyes, sharp and pale, flicked to him. "A few sorcerers, one was a toy of yours. Also a particularly tenacious sorcerer..." she admitted. "But they're not the ones who trouble me. In the midst of our battle, another appeared. Cloaked, silent. He struck the most annoying one down with one blow and vanished without a word. Tell me, was he yours?"
Kenjaku's grin widened faintly, though his head shook once. "No. I sent no one." He tapped a finger against his own temple, voice lilting with mock amusement. "Believe me, Uraume, if I had such an ally in hiding, I would have brought it up by now..."
Her gaze lingered on him, searching for deception. Finding none, her hand pressed firmer against the melting ice. "Then someone else desires Lord Sukuna's return. Someone who would act openly to aid me."
"Or aid him," Kenjaku corrected. His tone was still smooth, but his eyes glittered with a sharper interest. "It is not so strange. The world is full of insects that pray for a god to carry them. Perhaps they think Sukuna will crush their enemies. Perhaps they think they will be spared if they bow low enough."
A final crack split the ice along Yuji's shoulder. His skin steamed as it thawed. Uraume straightened slightly, speaking without turning to face Kenjaku. "And you? Was your path back as eventful as mine?"
Kenjaku laughed softly, shaking his head. "Eventful? Not really... Everyone was paying attention to you. Curious? Yes. While you wrestled with those sorcerers, I received a gift. The final finger of Sukuna came flying through the air, hurled toward me as though spat out by the world itself. I sensed no one nearby, only the residue of a cursed technique fading fast."
His grin sharpened. "Dropped in my lap at the perfect time. Convenient, was it not?"
Uraume's hands stilled over Yuji's half-thawed form. She turned her head at last, her expression unreadable but her tone cold. "Too convenient. Someone wished to see this end tonight."
Kenjaku's laughter echoed softly in the empty stone chamber. "Indeed. But I will not look a gift horse in the mouth. Whoever our benefactor is, they wanted Sukuna whole again. That much, at least, is in harmony with our own designs."
The last of the frost shattered and fell away. Yuji's limp body slumped forward, his skin damp from thaw, his breath shallow. Uraume stepped back, her eyes still watchful.
Kenjaku approached, drawing from his robes a strip of binding cloth glowing faintly with cursed energy. With precise motions, he bound Yuji's wrists and ankles, securing him firmly. Then, crouching low, he tilted the boy's head back and pried his jaw open with casual strength.
"Now then," Kenjaku said, his voice lilting like a lullaby, "it is time for you to fulfill the purpose you were created for."
One by one, he pressed the remaining fingers into Yuji's mouth. The boy gagged faintly, throat convulsing, but unconsciousness spared him from full resistance.
Uraume watched in silence, though her thoughts stirred like ice breaking under current.
At last, the final finger slid past his lips. Kenjaku withdrew his hand and rose to his feet, his smile sharp and glinting. "There. Complete at last."
Her voice cut through the moment like a blade. "You speak as though this were planned from the beginning. Was it?"
Kenjaku chuckled, the sound dry and pleased. "Not quite. Yuji was designed as a perfect vessel. That much is true. But the meaning of the word 'perfect' varies on the user. He could suppress Sukuna with nineteen fingers, barely.
The twentieth changes everything. It tips the balance, unlocks the door. From that moment, Sukuna is free. Whether Yuji took them willingly or whether we forced his throat open hardly matters. The outcome is the same."
"So you prepared even for this..." Uraume did her best not to sound impressed, but alas, anything that allowed her to reunite with her Lord was a welcome surprise.
"I engineered the possibility," Kenjaku corrected smoothly. "Had Gojo Satoru remained free, he might have guided Yuji to the end, letting him consume each finger and believing Sukuna to be fully out of the picture, sealed away within Yuji forever. Imagine his shock, his despair, when the boy became a prisoner in his own body instead. Beautiful, yes?"
Her lips thinned, pale eyes narrowing. "So much for the perfect prison. The vessel was nothing more than a tool to restore Lord Sukuna to his full shape."
Kenjaku's grin widened, and he did not argue.
For Uraume, the truth hardened like ice in her chest. All of it had been for this. Yuji's struggles, Gojo's sealing, every bloody skirmish. The vessel had never been a feasible method to get rid of Sukuna's fingers for good.
Yet another trap laid out centuries prior.
Yuji's body jerked suddenly, breath catching. His eyes snapped open wide, the whites trembling, before rolling forward with sudden clarity.
Dark tattoos burned into his skin, jagged black lines crawling from his jaw across his body. Veins swelled, cursed energy flooding outward in a suffocating wave that shook the walls of the hideout. A second, smaller, pair of eyes split open right underneath his own, gleaming with cruel hunger.
A voice, deep and contemptuous, filled the room.
"How irritating."
The bindings shattered like paper. Sukuna sat upright, stretching his arms slowly, flexing each finger as though reacquainting himself with his flesh. The black markings glowed and pulsed across his body.
"To be dragged awake like this," he muttered, disdain dripping from every word. "Stuffed full of fingers like a hog at slaughter. I had other plans. All ruined by a certain pest."
Uraume bowed her head deeply, her voice reverent despite its steadiness. "Lord Sukuna. At last, you return."
He glanced at her, his four eyes narrowing slightly. Then he laughed, sharp and cruel, the sound rattling the stone. "Yes. At last. And yet the memory stings. Fifteen fingers, and I was struck down in an instant. By a curse of all things..."
His grin sharpened into a snarl. "That will not happen again."
Kenjaku stood silently, his wide grin frozen in place. Satisfaction radiated from him, though he offered no interruption.
Sukuna rose, his presence filling the chamber until it felt as though the very air could freeze and crack under the weight. His tattoos pulsed with each breath, his second eyes glowing faintly with malice. He tilted his head, voice curling with promise.
"Mahito believes himself a king now. Let him. I will carve the truth into his flesh myself. But not yet."
Uraume lifted her gaze, confusion flickering briefly. "My lord?"
Sukuna's grin widened, his voice low and deliberate. "I am glad to be whole again, but even I will not rush into another's jaws unprepared. The pest has stolen plenty of techniques by now, maybe even combined them, all hidden away from my sight. To strike now would be to gamble with uncertainty. That is not my way. When I face him again, it will be final. There will be no chance for him to crawl away."
He flexed his claws, his cursed energy surging like a tide that pressed against the walls. "Let him savor his reign. Soon enough, I will take back what is mine."
The silence that followed was heavy and absolute. Uraume bowed again, words unnecessary. Kenjaku only smiled wider, his eyes glinting with dark amusement.
The King of Curses stood among them once more.
And the world would soon tremble under his shadow.