Jujutsu Kaisen: Cursed Times

Yuihara Nao stood amidst a mound of twitching fragments, both hands gripping Totsuka-no-Tsurugi tightly, her knuckles white. The weight of the sword didn't trouble her—it was the memories. This was unlike anything she'd experienced before.

From childhood, she'd only ever seen low-level Cursed Spirits, mostly no larger than flies. The one from the recent incident involving a Curse User had already been the most frightening she'd ever encountered.

These current Curses weren't strong—but they came in numbers. Each had to be cut down individually. Unlike before, where even a single injury caused the enemy to flee, now she had to sever flesh and witness limbs flying. The grotesque spectacle left a mark.

Shingen Genichi, nearby, hadn't lifted a finger. The doors lining the corridor had finally gone still, no longer releasing enemies. He stepped forward, heading toward the far end of the hall, but something was wrong—no matter how far he walked, the dense shadow at the end never grew closer.

Not until Yuihara Nao disappeared from his view behind him did he stop. After pausing for a breath, he took another step—and before him, out of the shadows, emerged two familiar forms: Yuihara Nao with Totsuka-no-Tsurugi, and Shirone at her side.

Hearing footsteps, Nao turned, startled. "Genichi-kun? Weren't you ahead of me? How did you…"

Shingen Genichi said nothing at first. Instead, he activated his Technique.

Time fractured like shards in a mirror. Shingen moved forward and backward along the corridor—an impossible dance within a temporal loop. But each time, the result was the same.

He reappeared beside Nao.

"This Innate Domain," he said, frowning, "is circular. No matter which direction we walk, we return to the same place."

Nao glanced at the walls. "Then what about the doors? If this is a circle… where do they go?"

He was already reaching for one. "Let's find out."

He turned the knob and opened it—no resistance, no flash of light. But what he saw made him pause.

It was... his own back.

He turned around, opened the door behind him—once again, his back. Reflections. But these weren't projections by a Curse. It was like staring into a mirror—except the reflections didn't mimic him. They stood, unmoving, facing away.

Nao leaned forward, blinking in disbelief. "That's… really creepy."

Shingen motioned for her to stand still. He stepped backward through the door behind her, while facing her. And in that strange, mirrored movement, he watched his own self across the hall retreat into the door, coming face to face with her.

At the same time, he felt a soft tap on his back.

"A spatial fold," he muttered. "The doors are connected. Like one portal leading to another—but what we see is an illusion."

He narrowed his eyes. "So what happens if both doors stay open?"

It was like aligning two mirrors. In theory, the reflections should continue infinitely. But in reality, what lay between mirrors was always darkness—twisting, chaotic distortion.

How many reflections could this space sustain?

"Click."

He opened another door. Again, Nao's back. Again, his own reflection running forward.

Shirone, watching this, grew curious. The wolf moved in a circle, seeing endless copies of itself trailing in both directions—an infinite procession.

Each time Shingen opened another door, Nao watched more and more versions of him appear—like clones running past, the corridor stretching, warping, multiplying.

"Too slow," he muttered. "Let's break this properly."

Time Wheel: Spin.

Reality distorted.

A sound like shattering glass rang through the corridor as Shingen became a blur. A ripple of mist sliced forward, his form vanishing, duplicating, stretching.

The space screamed.

A split appeared.

Then… silence.

He came to a stop and stared at the severed "loop." Though it stitched back together quickly, he had seen it—clearly.

"One thousand three hundred sixty-four. That's the limit," he said aloud. "So much for infinity…"

He turned. "Nao. Brace yourself. I'm breaking through this place."

"Huh—?"

Before she could finish, his figure blurred again. A distorted hum erupted. Everything around her warped.

The walls twisted sideways like a cloth being wrung out. The ceiling spun until it stood to her left. In the next moment, she was falling—toward what should've been a wall, now a floor.

A hand shot out mid-air and grabbed her wrist.

With one arm holding her and the other scooping up Shirone, Shingen launched into the air. While suspended, he activated his Technique again, then released both hands.

In a single motion, he drew Extermination, drew the bowstring, and summoned a Cursed Energy arrow.

The arrow blazed across the corridor like a blue meteor and shattered the distorted space before them.

Dragging Nao and Shirone with him, Shingen leapt through the rupture. A gust of cursed wind swallowed them.

And just like that—they were back.

The regular school hallway. Familiar air. The night breeze.

But before they could breathe—

Wham!

A massive slab of wall crashed down behind them.

Shingen turned and struck it with his fist. Stone and steel shattered into dozens of egg-sized chunks. With a guided pulse of Cursed Energy, the debris scattered outward harmlessly.

Beyond the debris, something began to crawl through the hole left in the wall.

Flesh.

Pale, heaving masses of it.

A grotesque shape forced its way into the hall.

Shingen frowned. "Take Shirone and get out. Now."

Nao, face pale, nodded quickly. She handed him Totsuka-no-Tsurugi, scooped up Shirone, and leapt through the window.

The Curse revealed itself.

Six wide limbs bent like a frog's. A vertical maw lined with spiraled fangs split its face. Its lower half ended in a thick, writhing reptilian tail.

Shingen observed it silently.

"Good thing I set up the barrier. Cleaning this up otherwise would be a nightmare."

He narrowed his eyes. "Curses just keep getting uglier. One of these days I'd like to fight something with aesthetics."

He darted forward, blade in hand.

Outside, Nao had barely landed when the building trembled behind her. Glass exploded from the upper floors. A titanic creature burst through the structure, tearing away three levels of concrete.

A figure soared through the rising dust—Shingen Genichi, splashed with purplish-black ichor.

The Curse—fully revealed under moonlight—was hideous. Two of its six limbs were severed. A gaping gash stretched across its chest, exposing pulsating viscera.

"Woof!"

Shirone growled sharply.

Nao gasped as a shadow flickered from her blind spot.

Something slammed into her gut. She tried to scream, but a rope-like object coiled around her torso, binding her arms and neck.

A hoarse voice echoed, "You over there! Throw me the sword, or she dies!"

Shingen landed hard, skidding across the ground. His eyes narrowed as he spotted the attacker.

A man stood behind Nao, grim-faced, blood-smeared. A long fish-like Shikigami had bound itself around her body. Shirone had also been pinned by a massive toad creature.

Behind them, the enormous Curse lumbered closer.

Enemies in front and behind.

Yet Shingen... smiled.

"You want this?"

He raised Totsuka-no-Tsurugi.

"Come take it."

The Curse User smirked—then froze.

Pain erupted across his body. He tried to scream.

Why… did everything hurt?

Where were his feet?

His hands?

He looked down—and saw nothing.

Just blood, mist And ash.

His thoughts scattered.

He'd fallen for it.

Shingen appeared behind him, blood dripping from the cursed blade. The enemy's body had collapsed, limbless.

But Shingen knelt beside him. With a brief hum of Cursed Energy, he activated his Reverse Cursed Technique, healing the wounds just enough to keep him alive.

"Can't let you die just yet," he muttered. "I still have questions."

The trick had been simple.

He'd imbued Totsuka-no-Tsurugi with his Technique before throwing it. Once it struck, he transferred the Technique back to himself and moved in for the finish.

He didn't even need to say anything.

Because the man had asked for it.

He gave it to him.

Unfortunately… he couldn't hold onto it.

Shingen sighed. "Oh, and you…"

He turned to the final foe—the hulking Curse.

"If you were Special Grade, maybe this would've been fun."

With a single hand seal, he activated his Technique once more, leaping onto the beast's head.

Totsuka-no-Tsurugi shimmered above him, reflecting moonlight.

He brought it down.

A thin line of red stretched from the top of the Curse's skull to its belly. Then the line widened. Its body began to tear open.

The beast thrashed—but Shingen jumped, twisted, and decapitated it in one clean slash.

The night fell silent again.

And the last echoes of the thirteenth step faded.

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Word Count:1,411