Cursed Legacy ( A Jujutsu Kaisen OC Fic)

Chapter 3:

Madame Mai they called her, the Head matron of the Ryushin brothel, ex-sorcerer and possibly one of the best honeypot spies Kawasaki had ever produced, had been waiting for a sign from Hikari's pregnancy to fail terminate the unborn child. She was a superstitious woman, and so the moment the black root tea had been reported to fail by one of the working girls, she had looked closer at the young whore and took notice. It was a subtle sign, but a sign none the less. The second time, she watched the woman drink the brew herself to make sure that it wasn't a ruse. It failed. Together, they tried one final time, brewing the tea so strong it made Hikari sick for days afterward.

Still the woman's belly grew.

(She should have read the signs better.)

So Madame Mai allowed the child to be born, taking it as a sign from the heavens that this child was meant to be. She attended the birth herself, watching the woman struggle between life and death to push and bleed and sweat to bring forth the baby which had refused to die. In its place, Hikari had died instead. When the boy came out with one final heave and a last scream, she was the one to catch it in her hands, to see it blink its unnatural gold eyes. She was the first one to see the mark on its back. A clever arrangement of lines that resembles broken kanjis inked into the boy's back and twisting in a single line down the babe's spine like it had been carved into the muscles beneath skin. The figures were a deep crimson colour, like age old blood written in the depiction of a cursed seal. What scared her more was the dense aura of cursed energy radiating from the seal, the swirling flames trying to break loose from its leash. She was the first to witness its utter abnormality.

A shiver had run down her spine at the sight, and she had fled to her rooms, searching for portents and omens among the scrolls in her office, hoping for a sign. She searched shelf after shelf, surrounded by the smell of dust and accompanied only by the passing light of the days in the knowledge trove of a small sorcerer family that had died out. The scrolls only confirmed what he knew: The first kanji jōyō for blessing of luck, jisho for wealth, and then kyōku for power.

Although the signs pointed to a great future, Madame Mai had been uneasy. The child was unnatural, and her gut said that it was not meant to be here.

Looking at the tiny figure before her, she knew it to be true.

Little Aoi had been missing since the early morning, soon after Madame Mai had discovered him climbing the sleek Okiya walls in a masterful display and use of cursed energy. She wasn't sure if the boy had even been aware of the power he held. There worry as the time began to pass. The worry had turned frantic when the sun began to set and the young child's promise broken. The akasen district was no place for a young child. Things would happen, unpleasant things. So when the night had truly began to darken, a chosen few were sent to find the boy, but they were not expecting to find him like this.

Assaulted, abused, or violated, these were things she was used to dealing with, things that would happen in most cases. They would help the child cope, teach him how to not let it happen again, support him inside the Okiya and nurture him back. Madame Mai had done it for many young girls and boys before, she would probably do it for many more.

She had not expected this.

"What happened?" She asks sharply, catching the boy's eyes.

"There was a man." The boy paused, chewing over his words. "I told him I was not for sale."

"He did not listen. He is dead."

The boy's eyes held hers, looking for something. For what, Madam Kagami did not know.

What she did know was the boy was covered in dried blood and chunks of flesh, the likes of which many in the brothel had not seen since their times on the streets.The room was flooded with an uncontrolled amount of cursed energy, a writhing, sentient thing that was escaping from where she knew the seal would be, etched onto his spine. It won't be long before the boy started to attract cursed spirits to her Okiya. His hair was wild and his eyes were flinty and cold. Madame Mai knew that look, she had been a sorcerer once, long ago. The juxtaposition of the remorseless look of a new born killer on the face of a toddler was not one she was comfortable with, but she knew what her gut had been telling her now.

(She should have read the signs better.)

With a tired sigh, the boy's shoulder slumped and he rubbed his eyes with a dirty hand, looking like the child he was. Aoi must have found what he was looking for.

Madame Mai still did not know what it was.

"I didn't wanna, Okaa-sama. He wouldn't let me go. It just happened. I don't feel bad, I just want a hot bath and to go to sleep." He looks back up then, rounds eyes found hers.

"Please?"

Madame Mai nods and sends the boy on his way, letting Keiko comfort him while she went back to her office to send a letter to an old aquaintance.

(She should have read the signs better.)

The boy was never meant to be an entertainer, she thought to herself, pulling a book out of the hidden bottom of her drawer. A book she hadn't used since she had been forcibly retired from her position in the Suzuki sorcerer family.

No, she thought, opening its pages and skimming through a list of old contacts. There is only one path for him.

It was time the boy return to his roots.
____________________________________

Aoi no-last-name woke up one morning, and when he look around his room, he felt like he wanted to smash everything. The white of the wooden framed paper was too bland, far too toneless. The thin screen that divides the room into halves that he shares with Keiko was too confining, too small. The futon he is lying in scratches against the skin of his back and is too firm for comfort. The weather outside is hot and humid in the glaring summer heat. The sukiyaki he had for dinner last night felt like sand in the pit of his stomach.

(Three days ago he killed a man. Ripped out his throat with his teeth. Aoi doesn't regret it.)

He is five years old, and he was already losing his mind. Seeing things that don't exist, imaginary souls and beings that float in and out of this room. Through the walls and through the ground. All around him that no one else could see or seem to acknowledge. Keiko had looked at him weird, with a slightly terrified glint in her eyes when he'd asked if she could see the toad like thing wearing a human face clinging to the back of her head. Ugly and vile creatures saturating in a dark energy that makes up their whole being, latching onto the backs of people in the Okiya.

They were everywhere. In this room, on the streets, the whole Okiya was crawling with them. They existed as if they've always been there, if only Aoi were to open his eyes and see.

(He tried to ignore the hallucinations. He wondered if he'd finally lost it.)

And the things all seemed to be watching him. Attracted to his similarly unnatural existence that was not unlike theirs. Yet none could approach the boy that burns with the black fire from hell.

(Three days ago he killed a man. Ripped out his throat with his teeth and doomed him to the darkest pit of hell. He doesn't regret it. He would do it again.)

That night had brought a permanent damage to his vocal chords. It made it hard for the boy to enunciate words properly, the sounds too raw, too guttural and it sounds so god fucking awful on a child.

He hardly understands that he has done something horrible, something terrible to see. He has taken a life, but that is okay. It is okay not to regret the death of the pitiful creature that was barely a man in passing.