Chapter 8

He was alive, how?

The clash of blades and the splash of blood on stone forced him to blink his blurry eyes. He could feel himself bleed out, feel his lips grow cold as his life-giving blood leaked out of his body at a slow and steady pace.

He forced himself to think through muddy thoughts, what did he last remember? A sharp grin on a scarred lip, black hair, a baby-faced cursed spirit spitting out a sword, then a shock of white hair.

Satoru? The thought brought a degree of comfort till he remembered the conversation that led him to this point, bleeding out and hallucinating.

"Why're you here?".

"Why? Ah, you mean that? I killed Gojo Satoru".

Was it a lie? He tried to force his broken body up, to help in holding off the monster. His body failed him. He could barely twitch, was this how he died? Face down while someone else fought to protect him.

A finger twitched as the sound of blades clashing and concrete shattering moved closer to him.

Was this how he was going to stand at the top with Satoru? He'd promised him they would be the strongest Jujutsu sorcerers. If Satoru was dead, then he would make sure to take the bastard that killed him down with him.

This time he moved more than a finger. He spread his bruised palm flat on the ground and forced his body up with more grit than he remembered ever having. Ignoring the excruciating pain that came with his defiance, he finally raised his head up and watched the impossible.

His savior was a little over 4ft tall. White hair held in a bun like his and blood-red eyes. Jiki, how?

The kid deflected a blow that sent shock waves through the broken corridor, dodged stomps that cracked concrete, and retaliated with the smooth confidence of a killer.

A monster.

He had heard the rumors. But watching the 4ft tall kid flip over an outstretched fist before swinging his sword and scoring a slash on the monster's forehead, then using that same fist as leverage to jump backward, all in one smooth movement sent a cold chill down his spine.

His sight blurred once more and when he managed to blink it clear he found himself leaning against broken debris with Jiki's back to him.

The way he stood lightly and slightly hunched over broken ribs let him know he had missed the last couple of seconds. They were talking now, and he barely heard the name Toji.

The sorcerer killer.

He wanted to bark out a laugh. The sorcerer killer. The Zenin clan lost hound. Of course, who else would've taken a mercenary contract like that and done this to them? He needed to get up, if he did nothing Jiki was going to die. He knew that for a certain.

Pushing himself off the debris, he went to a knee and drew what little ember of cursed energy he had left and fed it his anger, his shame, his hate, and he watched it spark into a bonfire.

When he looked up ready to sell his life dearly for Jiki, the Sorcerer killer moved. He only had time for a warning before he was blasted backward after a flash of red and white.

The screams wrenched him out of blissful unconsciousness.

He came too once again, this time in the arms of a four-armed scaled curse spirit in a turtle position, Onikin.

With a tap of his hand, the curse unfolded and dropped him on the floor, where he held on to it for balance.

When he regained his balance the scream had stopped, and he looked up to see the sorcerer killer was looking down at one of his arms on the ground as it got buried in black flames.

He was wide-eyed, gritted blood-speckled teeth, and with one hand on the stump of his forearm trying to hold back the blood that gushed out from the field amputation. Yet even with that, Geto knew it would if the man decided to turn on him, he would die. Simple as that.

Ignoring him and the grade two cursed spirit beside him, the man stared at the fallen form of Jiki, still wrapped in the rapidly fading form of a red-colored torso for a second before leaving in a blur of black.

Letting out a heavy breath, he staggered forward with the aid of the cursed spirit beside him, sparing a simple glance at the fur hilt sword the man had left behind, before kneeling to access Jiki.

The armored torso had dissipated completely without a steady source of cursed energy to fuel it and his body lay cold, yet he heard the short jerking breath of someone holding on to his life. A glance at his face turned his blood to ice. Jiki's eyes were white.

Pure white, with barely a circle distinguishing the whites and the pupil with blood tracks running down his eyes.

He refused to consider what it might mean, making his summon lift the boy gently, and in bridal carry, they stumbled out of the Tombs of the Star Corridor.

xxxx

JIKI POV.

He woke up to darkness. Long ingrained habits override the instincts to jerk up. He counted to ten first, and when he was certain he was awake and not dreaming, he spread out his senses.

His skin felt the soft grip of cotton that wrapped around his eyes as well as the one clothing him and an even thicker piece that covered him from his toes to his chest. He also noted a light pressure on his thighs.

His nose picked out the sharp scent of antiseptics, industrial-grade cleaners, and dried blood along with a slight tang of zunda and Cream kikifuku.

His ears distinguished three heartbeats, his steady cadence, an erratic beating heart belonging to the person resting a head on his legs and the slow heartbeat walking farther away pushing what he assumed was a trolley.

His physical senses told him he was most likely on a hospital bed, the smell of zunda and cream kikufuku brought to mind Satoru. But that was impossible, Satoru was dead.

The forever fresh image of his cousin lying dead with multiple stab wounds in his throat, head, and chest forced an unconscious spasm. He sat up with force and braced himself a second later for pain. He sat waiting and waiting for the pain to hit and after five seconds he had to admit that for some reason he couldn't feel it.

"Jiki?" A surprised voice called out. A voice he had grown to know and care for.

Impossible. He was dead. His three tomoe Sharingan had noted the unmoving chest as his heart lay still inside a broken chest cavity. His eyes couldn't lie to him, they won't.

Frantic hands reached up and ripped off the bandage around his eyes. When he opened it anew, he could barely see the blurred form ahead of him.

Blind. He was blind. Two lifetimes and one affliction. He could feel the hysteria form in his guts. Blindness.

His composure broke.

He could feel his hands reflexively scratching for his eyes once more. Why why why why? Why did he always have to lose something? Why did he always have to make sacrifices? Had he not tried his best, what more could be asked of him?

Soft hands gripped his thin wrists and stopped them from scratching his eyes out.

"Jiki, I'm here" This time the voice was lacking the previous surprise and held a soft firmness that forced his hysterical breathing to subside, yet he could not believe it.

"It's me Jiki, Big brother Satoru is here. I'm alright and you will be too" The statement was punctuated by one hand leaving his wrist and dragging his head closer, letting their foreheads touch.

The familiar movement calmed him and this close, his sight allowed him to see the blurred form of blood-streaked white hair and luminescent blue eyes. And for the second time in two lifetimes, Jiki let himself cry, holding onto Satoru in a death grip as tears streaked down his face.

xxxx

The tearful reunion was broken by the click of the door opening ahead of them and like clockwork, Jiki could feel his walls form up again, slower than usual but by the time the two footsteps stopped at the foot of his bed, his face had a placid facade of apathy. The only sign of what happened barely seconds ago was the tear tracks lining his face.

"Heard you guys talking while we were outside, decided to give you guys the chance to hash things out a bit"

He noted the voice as Shoko's. A soft ruffle of hair and jerk of motion that he swiftly categorized as a nod, came from the next person, who he guessed was Geto.

"How're you feeling Suguru-san" he asked politely as he turned his face to the man he last remembered was half-way dead.

"Better than you kid" There was something about the voice that triggered him the wrong way. Was it the intonation? The hollow tone behind the words? The false casualness? He was not sure, but he was certain something was wrong.

A blur of motion and a muted shout let him know Shoko had smacked Geto at the back of his head. The action brought a soft smile to his face. Maybe he was the one ascribing thoughts to where there was none.

"What about the man? Toji Fushuguro?"

Those words killed every sound in the room. His ears picked up the sudden increase in heartbeat and palpitations from Geto and Satoru. He could feel Satoru's grip on his hand tighten for a second before it relaxed.

"He escaped" was the simple answer he got from Satoru, he stared back at Satoru with empty white eyes waiting for something more than that. This time it was Geto who finally spoke up and broke the silence.

"After you blacked out, he cut off the hand your technique caught then he just up and left" he gave a forced casual shrug that Jiki noted from the sound of clothes ruffling at shoulder height.

"Satoru woke up and found you half dead, and he's been by your side since, while we've looked around for him with not much luck"

He was still alive then. His mask of placidity almost broke a second time. Toji had lost a hand, but he had aimed for his head. Amaterasu's manifestation was immediate, and he was too close to dodge, he should've caught the black embers on his face first, yet somehow the monster had managed to dodge back while still being fast enough to cut off the hand before the flames spread.

Ieiri perceiving the mood sink even lower clapped her hands loud enough to drag the three of them out of their funk.

"In other news, we've got good news and bad news for you Jiki-kun" With that said she walked over to the other side of the bed before pulling out a chair and sitting beside him. "What do you want to hear first" he noted the sudden cheer in her voice.

With a tilt of his head, he picked the good news.

"You can regain your sight"

The words sent his back ramrod straight, before he relaxed back into the bed. Silent as a doorbell. Not even Lady Tsunade could've promised him that. The curse of the mangyeko lay in the eyes deteriorating the more it was used.

In this case, it had happened faster than he anticipated, which he attributed to cursed energy and his age as well as the simultaneous usage of Amaterasu and Susanno. The only cure for the blindness that followed was the implantation of another eye, while simultaneously depriving the other person of sight.

"How" his voice came out a whisper.

"Reverse Cursed Technique" came the cheerful reply. "I got confirmation on scanning your eyes through Satoru briefly going over to the Gojo clan and kindly requesting for you after they took you from Geto"

He interpreted that to mean Satoru leveled one or two buildings and forced them to give him up. He could understand their position. They believed the Sharingan was a mutation of the six eyes. Insight into it might prove insight into the six eyes. Letting that kind of information outside the clan must have felt heretical.

He would have to try to smooth out ruffled feathers whenever he got back to the clan.

"The pathways that lead from your brain to your eyes are heavily degraded. Most likely due to a sudden and heavy surge of cursed energy. Luckily for you, there are few things the reversed curse technique can't do, healing your eyes is not one. Especially in the hands of the most talented reverse cursed sorcerer Japan has seen in the past century". She bragged easily.

With a quick ruffle of his head, she stood up and started heading out "The bad news is that, even with my help it won't be easy. Your eyes are unique. The pathways are different, with entire sections seemingly made out of cursed energy. But with Satoru's six eyes manipulating cursed energy while I heal, it won't be impossible".

She grabbed Satoru and dragged him off him, while Geto came around to pull the struggling Satoru's other arm. "We'll give you the chance to rest. Plus you've another guest who has not left your side for the past week".

As they stepped out of the room, someone else stepped in. The heavy tang of salt and water as well as rough breathing gave him an idea of who stepped in. With a soft smile, he looked towards her crying form and called out softly "Aiko". She ran for him before slamming into him hard while gripping him tightly. He ignored her disheveled appearance considering he couldn't see much of it and hugged her back just as fiercely.