7 Minutes in Heaven/ Hell Compilations

7MIHell | Yuji Itadori (Sukuna)

You stretched your limbs above your head after a long day sweeping the temple grounds. Despite this being a working holiday of sorts, it was a breath of fresh air from the temple you grew up in back in Tokyo. The high priests had thought it best that you began to explore the world, but to start small by being in the same country. Tokyo was their suggestion, explaining that the schools of old arts still have a good foundation in the capital.

Growing up under the tutelage of priests and monks was the norm for you. Prior to this, you had a normal upbringing sans for weekend chores, tasks and tutelage. It made it difficult to adjust to the change, having to let go of friends, or having to discover the hard way of trying to keep them.

You packed away the broom and discarded the dusty apron into the tiny greenkeeper's hut beside the temple, pleased about your progress on the day until you turned to the large courtyard.

It was all the same, except for a few minor setbacks.

You sighed at the sound of gnawing shrills, finding a couple of small curses desecrating the grounds again. They were pests on temple grounds. You found it a cruel irony before you aimed a finger at the small group, swiping away to exorcise the curses immediately.

This was the majority of your training, dealing with curses on a daily basis that roamed temple grounds. At the very least that was the task you were given back at your temple, learning about the strengths of such curses and the best course of action to deal with them. You've only heard through stories about Curses that manifested stronger bonds and destruction in their wake, having power that would make humanity quake at its knees. It was a scary bedtime story for you growing up.

"Hey you," called a voice from the gate. "Do you happen to know where I can find the transfer? I was told to come pick them up."

You eyed the man while he walked up to you, his friendly grin exuding no malcontent and a somewhat oblivious nature about him. "That's me," you replied.

"Oh, hey! Nice to meet you!" He greeted, out stretching his hand. "Name's Yuji Itadori. Welcome to Tokyo!"

You stared at his hand for a moment, curious of his greeting. Was that how people in the capital greeted others? "Nice to meet you, Itadori," you said, bowing your head, and ignoring his welcoming hand. "I'm honoured to meet an alumni of Tokyo's tech school."

Chuckles "No need to be so formal," he reassured, pulling his hand away. "My old teacher mentioned you needed an escort and I was happy to swing by."

Cheerful, friendly, and there was a dash of good manners. It was very familiar, almost like home. Yet something felt like it was digging in the back of your mind about his name. Yuji Itadori. Where have you heard that name before? "You're not from around here, huh?" You asked, catching Itadori off guard.

"Wait, how do you-"

"I recognize country hospitality, I was transferred to Kyoto after middle school, and then was sent here after my supposed graduation."

"Supposed?"

"I've not been to school since middle school."

Itadori stared at you with realization, his eyes wide with curiosity. "Whoa, no way! Gojou told me you trained in the Jujutsu Arts but you never enrolled in a school?"

"I guess it's a moot point."

"Aren't you lonely?"

"Huh?"

"I mean, don't you miss your friends?"

You turned your eyes from his, unable to answer the question, at least truthfully. It had been years since you've ever had any of your friends visit, let alone keep contact. Under the priests' tutelage, you were tucked away from society, and only focused on training your Jujutsu for whatever was waiting for you. Most of your life has been engulfed in your family's legacy, whatever that may be from the scary children stories you were told.