Blood-stained (Yuuji & Sukuna x Reader)

Saviour ~ Ch42

¤ 3rd Point Of View ¤

People say that (Y/n) and her father were a force to be reckoned with during battle. A work of art. A spectacle. They fought similarly, for Nanami it was like watching a smaller version of himself right. He was her first teacher, after all. He taught her how to be more elegant in battle, to fight more gracefully in a refined sort of way so that her naturally messy cursed technique would seem less unkempt.

Nanami has never liked (Y/n)'s jujutsu. From the day he found out she was a (L/n) to now, nothing has changed about his opinions towards her cursed technique. The only thing that was different was the fact that he learned to get used to the spashes of red. Even now, being covered in the droplets of blood from the creations of Mahito during (Y/n)'s battle still bothered him. The man had just learned not to complain, especially when killing these things were already an obscure experience.

Similar to Nanami, (Y/n) found it weird killing Mahito's puppets. It felt like murder even though she could sense that these people were already dead. And despite being human, they acted more like a curse which only made it harder for her. It felt like treason when she used her blood to tear them in two.

Usually when on a mission with her dad, she'd insert a drop of blood into the curse and that would warp them into a limbo of some sort. That way, she could go back this limbo at a later time when they had calmed down (and when she was alone) and ask if these curses would like to join her on her conquest to change the world. If not, she'd give them the option to leave or advice the best place to be if they'd like a sorcerer to exorsise them. Meanwhile, her dad would think that she exorsised the spirit the moment he sees it dissapate.

But that's not what was happening here. (Y/n) was truly mudering these things. When she split them in half or deatroyed it's core, they were dead and they won't be waiting for her in her limbo dimension. (Y/n) tried not to think about it as she killed the one of the last few puppets, watching her dad kill one also, he trousers covered in mud. (Y/n) was lucky to have known where Mahito's base was before hand- thus planning her least favourite outfit.

The lights were at the minimum in this sewer tunnel. There was practically one dull light every tunnel that flickered whenever it saw fit. The entrance and exit to this tunnel were pitch black, the light not reaching that far out. (Y/n) could feel Mahito's presence at the end of this tunnel, hiding out in the intersection. He was watching them fight his puppets from a distance.

"I'll finish the last few. Go and scout ahead." Nanami ordered his daughter, letting her nod her head before he continued to fight. The girl cautiously slow walked into the darkness, feeling Mahito's presence at the end of the tunnel. She wondered if this was what he wanted, a fight. Or maybe he wanted to simply judge their skills. Did he expect her to come? Or possibly expected a different sorcerer all together.

It was then that she saw him, sitting against a pipe casually with a mouse in his hands. He was dangling it by the tail, swishing it around the air boredly. The moment the sound of the girl's footsteps echoed to him, he looked up and dropped the mouse with a smile. The mouse then scuttled into the darkness, blending in with the metal and water. Mahito grinned as he stood up, holding his arms up greetingly.

"The (L/n) is back!" The blue haired curse exclaimed excitedly, making the girl sigh as she came to a stop infront of him- not too close and not too far.
"But this time, with a friend." Mahito mused. (Y/n) didn't bother correcting the curse on the fact that Nanami was her father and not her friend.
"Hello, Mahito." The girl greeted calmly.

"I've been watching you two, you fight quite similarly." Mahito noticed, placing two fingers under his chin.
"He's my father." She told him bluntly.
"Ah, the man who's family name you took to hide your own!" Mahito awed in realisation, finding a fairly odd and mischievous way to say that (Y/n)'s been adopted. She couldn't help but scoff at his words.