𝘽𝙖𝙘𝙠𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙨 - jjk x Little Nightmares 2 (DISCONTINUED)

𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙚

Ya'll are fucking insane what the hell-
This is a jJK X LITTLE NIGHTMARES 2 CMON PEOPLE WHAT ARE YOU DOING
I EXPECTED LIKE 5 READS AT MOST AAJDJSJKCKD
Also I would like to know why the hell this fine little giyuu memeredraw is multiplying each time I edit the chapter

𓆏 𓆏 𓆏

"And you're saying this occurred an hour ago?" Yoshinobu asked, almost disbelievingly. His untrusting glance pulled itself between the tv, then Gojo, then back to the tv. The younger sorcerer nodded, his lips turning up at the edges

"Pretty much!" He chirped jauntily, as if this were a perfectly casual situation.

To everyone's surprise (everyone who knows about the cursed object in the first place, at least), the tv actually did do something, in such a short amount of time, no less.

Well, as short as it could feel for a manchild such as Gojo. He waited for a good two days, sitting impatiently with bated breath at any passing chance he got to observe the retro television, becoming more than familiar with the same sinister aura, and the same Six-Finger power level that begged for attention.

And then, it sang.

An American blonde women flipped onto the screen, which on itself could be a report, as the tv only offered static for the first two days. She held up a frying pan in one hand, and a butcher knife in the other, weighing them as she sang. Her smile was fake and never reached her eyes that stared dead on at the camera, never blinking, never moving.

"And what did this woman do?" The higher up appeared to have trouble comprehending the situation. It was almost laughable.

"She was singing. The lyrics were pretty unsettling, actually."

Yoshinobu only blinked, gaining some composure and preparing himself. He made a hand gesture for Gojo to continue.

"So, the lyrics were:

Having a nightmare in a boat
Come with me oh no, no, no
He's gone, he's gone, he hung, don't leave me, no more bellman among the sea.
Hello, hello we're lonely. Help her, help her and we'll see, my way my way and you'll see a halo ascending above our seas.
Run, run —or was it fun, run? I forgot— here comes Veronica!
Run, run, he cut veronica!
Run, run, he cut veronica!
Sent on a ferry upon our sea"

The verse repeated like... Six times? Before switching to what it is now."

The bearded man hummed in acknowledgement, gripping his chin with two fingers, sinking himself deep in thought. Gojo watched him patiently, waiting for his reaction.

Revelation dawned onto the elder, "Wait,"

"Hm?"

"Everything so far has been in Six's. Six fingers, Six repeats..."

The blindfolded man's mouth created an "o" shape, he laughed. "Yeah, I guess so. What do you think that means?"

Yoshinobu never responded. How rude, Gojo thought childishly, though he new better than to comment on it, the older man really seemed to be having trouble.

"It's one in the morning, Satoru. Write it down and give the lyrics to me in the afternoon." Yoshinobu finally said after a moment's silence, shifting his last gaze to the cursed television. It was now only displaying static on its screen and whistling an unknown tune.

Gojo nodded and swept the box into his arms, swiftly yet still carefully all the same. He strides over to the door, feeling Yoshinobu's gaze on him. He paused at the doorway.

"I'm going to get my students in on this, make them help me decipher the lyrics tomorrow."

"Wait— don't do that! We can't afford to let them kn—"

But it was too late, because Gojo was already off.

+ + +

The next day came faster than Gojo expected, and the man wasn't all too sure how to approach his students about what he's been up to for the past three days, which would be caring for a cursed tv. To his luck, the Kyoto students left yesterday (strangely, Aoi cried and Yuuji looked frightened— Gojo wondered what that was about), so it was just him and his own students.

Eventually, he came to the simple solution of gathering everyone in a grass field somewhere on their ridiculously large campus, and announcing there. So that was exactly what he did.

"Eh? Six of Sukuna's fingers?" Itadori repeated in disbelief, he was then followed by a sharp-toothed mouth forming on his cheek, "Six of my fingers?"

"Mustard leaf..." a concerned tone commented

"I'm sure it's going to be alright, Inumaki! It's not doing anything other than singing or whistling." Nobara tried her best to comfort the cursed speech user, but everyone could see that she was also nervous.

"We can try, Gojo-sensei, but I don't know if we'll be much of a help.." Maki trailed off after a short silence. The others nodded in agreement.

"Nonsense! Any and all help is appreciated." Gojo chirped, "Anyways, let's do some one-on-one training, yeah?"

+ + +

"So...what do you think it's all about?" Nobara said, brave enough to break the thick silence that confusion created. The students all sat around a table in the school's expansive library. The cursed object sat in the center of the table, surrounding it was obviously the teenagers, but also the pieces of paper scattered around them. The one noticeable one was the pink rectangular paper, written on it the lines that Gojo provided for them. Doodles and hearts surrounded the lyrics.

"Well, it's obviously about the sea." Itadori said, plucking the pink paper off of the dark table. All eyes fell on his at once. He sweatdropped. "Okay well don't look at me like that!" he cried, flinging his hands up in surrender. The tension eased up bit by bit and some gazes were torn away. "But anyways, the sea is mentioned at least, like, three times? Oh, and some boats too."

Nobara hummed in acknowledgment, "That makes sense."

A silence swept over the room, all of the young sorcerers in deep thought.

"...What about Veronica?" Panda asked weakly. Even he was unsure of his question.

"What?" Fushiguro questioned, before realization dawned on his face, "Oh yeah, 'Veronica' had an entire verse."

Maki added herself to the conversation(?) "But then, who is 'he' in the line 'he cut Veronica'? Or, is that verse just a metaphor?"

Another silence

Itadori rubbed his temple in frustration. "Let's talk about this later," eyes were on him once again, "Let's go eat!" He suggested happily, desperately trying to ease the tension in the room. "Salmon!"