Prologue.

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The cursed spirit in front of me was one I had never seen before, in confrontation with the ones I had seen in Jujutsu Tech when training, this one had an aura that seemed immensely more powerful. It started laughing to itself, or at me. It had thrown me across the room, my back hitting the hard concrete wall with a loud bang. 

Slowly, I got up to my feet and brushed off the excess dust that had fallen on me. I didn't know how long I had been out for but my only worry was if my mother, who had previously ran out of the house to get my father, was ok. My father hadn't arrived yet, which meant something was inevitably wrong. 

I had no idea why this curse had appeared in my house but something about the whole situation was off, I couldn't pinpoint why but the itching feeling kept me on my toes. I charged up my fist with cursed energy and started running towards the curse, quickly so that it didn't have time to dodge. But it was fast and before I knew it, it threw me to the ground again as if I were a rag doll. 

My head started to spin, but I knew I couldn't afford to pass out again. That's when I noticed the liquid that was seeping along the side of my temple, my fingers reached up and swiped at the liquid, then bringing my hands down so I could see what it was. Blood. I was bleeding. 
"Shit." I mumbled to myself before getting back up to my feet and wiped away the blood with my sleeve, wincing at the pain that shot through my head as I did so. 

No matter how much I hated this curse, I refused to use my cursed technique, due to the fact that I couldn't yet control it. It was my own sort of curse in that way. When I last used it, I caused so much collateral damage, and damage to myself that ever since the accident I refused to use it again. 

But I got thrown to the floor, time and time again, until bruises started to develop and every bone in my body felt like it was about to break. I was at my breaking point and the curse just seemed to be getting stronger. 

I made my attempt to run, knowing that I couldn't defeat the curse on my own, it seemed to be a special grade. But when I opened the door, the sight that I saw caused me to almost throw up. 
My mother, just outside the door, had been torn into pieces, her limbs scattered down the corridor and her blood oozing onto the concrete floor. 

I looked back at the special grade with horrified eyes, my hands trembling as I curled them into fists. 

"Cursed technique, hell raiser." I said without even thinking twice. 

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | y.itadori x readerWhere stories live. Discover now