𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 | sukuita

2; Tokyo space ghost

The next dream isn't for a few weeks, and in that time span both the bruise and the confusion fade with a gradual softness. It's not for Yuuji's lack of trying to gain answers, he chirps as loudly and as long as he can but Sukuna refuses to budge from inside his domain.

It's frustrating but in the grand scheme of Yuuji's life it's not a particularly large concern. So Yuuji shelves the dream up high in the back of his mind with death and sadness and carries his days out with his usual bright smile.

It works like it always does and Yuuji is content to let it lie to rest completely. He's fully prepared to count it as a one off and go back to nights of endless blackness and the occasional muddled dream.

Yuuji is fine, until he collapses exhausted into his bed and wakes up in a car.

It's the roar of an engine that captivates his immediate attention. A deep loud thing that rattles every bone in his body and makes his head fuzzy with the feeling.

Next to note is the dazzling lights along the windshield, a faceless crowd shouting with joy on the sidelines.

The engine revs and on instinct Yuuji throws his hands to each side, prepared to grab onto whatever comes first when the car lunges off the starting line like a jaguar after its prey.

His left hand finds itself coiled in a fist full of soft silken fabric and a familiar voice says all too unkindly, "let go before I crash." And then Sukuna is spinning the wheel so hard that Yuuji almost slides right into him if not for the center console.

"Wha...?" A thousand questions are dancing on Yuuji's tongue but they all stall out when he really looks at Sukuna.

He's different, his clothes are now composed of a simple black high collar halter top and a brilliant white jacket trimmed in blues and golds. Yuuji finds himself skimming fingers along the fabric for just a moment of admiration before trying to plaster himself to the opposite side of the vehicle. Right, he can't be ogling his look-a-like, that was probably a trait of narcissism.

"Sukuna," Yuuji breathes and gets a hum in response, "what the hell is going on!?"

Disdain scrunches along Sukuna's nose and pulls at his mouth in the way it does when he thinks Yuuji is being an idiot. He says bluntly, "I'm racing and you're in the car. I thought this was obvious but perhaps I overestimated your IQ."

They take another sharp turn and a squawk bursts from Yuuji before he can reply. He's forced to plant his hands along the roof and dashboard for stability and decides to look out on the road to see what's going on.

Laid out before him is a sight that nearly steals a gasp of delight. It's a sprawling night time city full of pulsing neon lights. It's exactly what he always hoped nighttime Tokyo would be like and for a moment he's content to be dazzled by everything blurring by.

It's not until he sees piles of bovine skulls begin to clutter up every store display window that he remembers exactly where he is and who he's with.

So Yuuji quickly turns his attention back to Sukuna and demands, "how do you even know how to drive? Aren't you super crazy old?"