𝘽𝙖𝙘𝙠𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙨 - jjk x Little Nightmares 2 (DISCONTINUED)

𝙤𝙣𝙚

He was falling, deeper and deeper to the bottom of the Signal Tower. Why?he thought, Why, after all I did for her... After all we did together..? Why did she?

For the first time in a while, Mono was confused. He had been so blinded by happiness when he had first helped Six escape from The Hunter's house. The boy was drunk on the thought of having a companion. Someone to talk to, someone to hold hands with, just someone.

What a harsh slap of reality, he joked to himself. Maybe... Maybe she was just too exhausted to lift me up? Yeah. She was too tired; Poor Six.

After a few moments, Mono fell on to a cushiony surface. It was so soft, that he even bounced a few times before his back rested gently against the nearly ice cold floor. Mono blinked in surprise. Was this thing that was chasing him and Six?  The black haired boy propped himself up on his elbow, which (under his grimy trench coat) was rather battered and bruised from his "adventures" with his ex-companion— essentially getting serious injuries while on the run from human-shaped beasts. He stared at what was under him with owlish eyes. Why would he sprint away from this thing? It was honestly the softest thing he had ever touched. While hard to believe, this was the wall of flesh that nearly killed him.

And it was certainly not a good thing. The dermis-feeling, villainous ground  squirmed and moved like the waves of an ocean, making bubbling noises on occasion. The child shivered in disgust.

It was then that Mono turned his attention to his surroundings. The "ground" stretched on seemingly forever, and the same bubbling and boiling noises could be heard even miles away. It unsettled the boy greatly, so he instead thought it best to safely burn his gaze into the nothingness above.

Though that quickly set him off too, the dark abyss that seemed to gaze right back at him through his paranoia. Mono huffed and rolled onto his side, ignoring how cold he felt, or how mushy ground pressed uncomfortably on a large bruise— one of them, at least. He scrunched his eyes closed and curled himself into a little ball with more effort than what should be necessary.

He was too tired. He'll be willing to think once he finally slept.

+                +                 +

The sunlight's rays spilled through the too-clean curtains, lighting up the office with a comforting warmth. In the distance, the blindfolded man could hear what sounded like his student, faintly crying "I didn't even go to your middle school!" And a much more lower pitched, naturally harsher voice yelling something back that he couldn't pick up. He wondered what that was about. However, the white-haired, bearded man sitting across from him demanded more attention.

"Do you know what this is?" The far older man asked (though, it looked as if he already knew the answer), motioning his arm to the retro tv that sat innocently on the polished table. Gojo instantly recognized it: a cursed object. It's sinister aura left no room for any other assumptions. The man hummed in interest, leaning back against the lavish leather couch. "It feels powerful," he noted, "I'm almost impressed."

The higher up's expression didn't change, still stoic and held the permanent gloom to it. He continued on, "Focus on it." Yoshinobu watched as the sorcerer concentrated on the television, even lowering the blindfold enough to peak at it with one of his eyes, just for good measure. "How many of Sukuna's fingers do you think this cursed object holds?"

Why is he asking for Sukuna's fingers as a measurement? The man wondered internally. However, he still focused back onto the retro tv nonetheless. Squinting with the one eye he pulled out, he continued to examine the object in front of him, only half aware of the elder that paid close attention.

Yoshinobu was watching, waiting for a reaction.

It didn't take long to get one. Gojo leaned foreword in one incredibly quick, swift motion. "Woah!" He said, a little too excited and astonished to be in character in the higher up's opinion, and apparently in Gojo's as well, because the man relaxed his tensed shoulders and cleared his throat.

"That's... definitely six. Six of Sukuna's fingers right there."

"Good job," Yoshinobu praised, though it felt empty, "now that you know how strong this cursed object it, you now also realize how valuable it is." His shadowed gazed attempted to stare holes into Gojo's blindfold, which now covered both of his sky-depicting eyes. "I need you to look after it for two to three weeks, observe it. If it does anything unusual, you are to tell me immediately." The higher up let another short, uncomfortable silence momentarily build up in the plain room, letting the information sink in the the still silent sorcerer sitting across from him.

Yoshinobu broke the staring contest between them, instead deciding to turn his head to the window. There were no more muffled cries, no more gruff responses, Yuuji and Todo must've gone back inside to continue their fight (if you could even really call it that) indoors.

He spared one more glance to the man across him. "Go on, take it with you." His dismissed the other, "Keep me updated. Find a safe space for it. Get out of here."

Gojo sighed and lifted himself off the couch, heaving up the cursed tv and seeing himself out of the door. "Batty old man..." he murmured to himself, not caring all too much if he was heard. Thankfully, he wasn't.

This'll be interesting.