𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐄 [JJK x OC]

2: A Field of Flowers - All Alone

Arc 1: The Summer we Met 

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Summer, 2005

Another cursed spirit bore down on the curse user. A grade 1 fishlike monstrosity barreled its way right toward him. The creature cut through the air, barely being avoided by the man. Noticing the opportunity, cursed energy coalesced in his fist, forming a tempest he launched at the curse.

The raw power of the winds eviscerated the head of the curse, leaving it to splatter across the large stone stairs. Pushed to his limits, the cursed user fell, his hands on his knees, as he desperately panted for air.

It was unnatural, something that made entirely no sense. How was it that this forest was infested with this many high-grade curses, and the village below still remained? And why, now that he had almost reached the village's temple, were there no longer any curses?

He could still feel them, their energy, their hungry eyes, all prepared to tear him apart. But with only 100 steps left until the top, they no longer approached him. "...what a goddamn — pain in the ass." He said, huffing with every breath.

Dismayed though he may be, there was no chance that the curse user could leave. The very fact that there were this many curses only furthered his faith. The words that woman said to him — they must be true.

Maybe he can be free like he used to. So long as he finds it.

______________

???

A bloodied handkerchief was thrown to the ground with a boisterous laugh. The broken body of a politician lay on the ground, his chest blown apart by a fierce wind, his face forever frozen in horror.

"Well, here you have it, Mr. Handler, the body of Otsuka Yoshito. I doubt he'll be any more policy changes." The cruel words spewed forth as the man ground his heel into the deceased flesh. "Oh, I hope you don't mind — I dealt with his wife and daughter as well."

The Handler, shrouded in darkness, stepped forward to inspect the corpse. An immaculate suit was stained by blood as the curse user continued to desecrate the dead. With a huff, the Handler responded, "Such things are of no import. Half a million yen, as agreed. Your continued services are appreciated, Mr. Murata." The Handler spoke with apathy as he tossed a brown envelope filled with cash at the assassin.

"Sweet," Murata responded. He quickly tore through the envelope, covetously counting every bill of his earnings. "Ya know, I'll never tire of crushing these weaklings for you, but don'tcha got something more substantial, I don't know."

Upon hearing those words, a sly grin appeared on the Handler's face as he slid another file over to the assassin. "There is something — it isn't a job more a first come, first serve opportunity. Oh... and the bounty is currently 100 million yen."

Murata's jaw practically dropped. In truth, he hadn't expected there to be any jobs like this available, let alone one as lucrative as this.

"So — who's the target?"

...

Days passed, the hours fading into dust as Murata eagerly awaited his opportunity. He sipped a luxurious espresso, paid with the blood of his countless victims, eyeing down the photo of his mark. A young boy, handsome for his age, bearing the familiar characteristics of the Gojo clan, what with the pale hair and all.

But even more than that, the signifier of his birthright was something else altogether. 'A child was born into the Gojo clan bearing the six eyes. Moreover, according to mummers in the great clans, he might also inherit their limitless cursed technique.' The handler's words rattled in the man's head as he stared at the photo of Gojo, Satoru.