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CE 102
🕑 Added 2025-11-09 21:21:32 +0000 UTCThe principal gestured for him to sit down on one of the broken rubble, but Toge could hardly care for his words. Now that the immediate dangers were taken care of, the only thing the platinum-haired boy could think of was a single figure.
Panda.
He turned, and there he was. The cursed corpse stood still for a second, then tilted its head and spoke. “Toge?” The voice was different, still Toge’s eyes widened, and everything suddenly turned blurred from more unshed tears. He had a dozen things to say, and a hundred things to ask, but as he moved to speak, his throat suddenly turned dry. Part of it was from the overuse of his cursed technique, but even with that...
Panda looked different. He sounded different as well, and the way he stood, like he was unsure of what to do, of what to say. The black and white cursed corpse moved from one foot to another like he was nervous, and that image brought a smile to Toge’s face as he automatically stretched out a hand, but his hand froze halfway when Panda took a step back.
That single movement squeezed at Toge’s heart as well as the confusion in Panda’s eyes and face. It was hard to read emotions on the face of a cursed corpse, so Panda had always made sure to be extra expressive for his sake, a decision that spread as their circle of friends widened. Now, the only expression he could read was confusion.
The sight broke his heart.
A heavy hand pressed itself onto his shoulder, then guided him to sit down on the rubble. Principal Yaga looked down on him with heavy, furrowed brows before letting out a sigh.
“This is not the best place for this conversation, but I doubt you’re ready to leave here without answers.”
For the first time since Usami Kato had been dealt with, Toge’s attention snapped to the principal, and with red-rimmed eyes, he growled out a word. It was not a word as it should be; he did not produce sounds, and there was no harmonious use of letters to create a word or sentence. Instead, he let out a growl that reverberated with anger and fury as he turned to the principal.
Still, the message was clear. Speak.
The principal read his lips and let out a sigh before resting his back on the single railing that had survived, looking away and to the side, back to the location of Toge’s latest assassination. The curtain Usami had pulled up still covered them, which meant the fight over the past few minutes had been hidden from the crowd that surrounded the faraway building. A crowd that featured the police as well as emergency services lifting the bodies of suited men and putting them into ambulances.
“I suppose I should start from the beginning.” The principal spoke rhetorically, his usual dry voice sounding drier and distracted as he stared at the sea of men and women. “Panda died.”
That simple sentence sent another pang through Toge’s heart, and he resisted the urge to turn back to confirm the sight behind him, to make sure the cursed corpse had not been a figment of his imagination. Principal Yaga did not need to tell him that, he knew more than anyone other than the principal himself.
He was aware of Panda’s death. He understood how the cursed corpse could live on even with the destruction of his cores. As long as one remained, he would always regenerate the rest. He knew when Panda lost the first one to Suguru Geto, the second to the blast that had nearly killed them, and the final to Usami Kato.
He had felt the life bleed out of his best friend and had done nothing in his weakness.
Principal Yaga found his eyes, and something he saw in them resonated, because the older man nodded in understanding. “Of course, more than anyone else, you know that, yet it’s not so simple.” The principal’s attention trailed off from Toge and shifted to the figure behind him, and this time when he spoke, his voice was low.
“Most people are not aware, as it’s never been something to come up, especially with the secrecy that covers my technique. But I am aware of the soul. I understand the shape of both mine and others’. This was not a skill I simply learned; it was a skill born from my cursed technique. I discovered certain aspects when Kusakabe and his sister came to the school crying on a rainy night. He had just lost his nephew, and both of them had come seeking Shoko, but even as good as she was at reverse cursed technique, not even she could raise the dead.”
His eyes drifted off again, lost in memory. “I was there that day, and having felt a strange sensation while crafting my cursed corpse, I searched for it once more in the child, and I found it. The soul, or more accurately, leftover information that had been imprinted on the body, so I made them an offer. It was an experiment in truth, but it boiled down to using the residual soul information from the dead body and imprinting it into a cursed corpse. They agreed, and the experiment was a success. The boy, Takeru, lives till today, but his existence is a taboo deserving of execution according to the higher-ups, so we hid him in a forest concealed from the rest of the world by Master Tengen’s generosity.”
Toge roughly wiped the tears from his eyes as he broke down the principal’s words. He was hardly the smartest or most analytical, but already he had a vague idea of what the older man was leading to. This time, he could not resist the urge when the feeling came, and he turned back to face Panda.
The cursed corpse had moved closer to him during the retelling of the story, but froze the moment Toge’s attention fell on him. There was none of the wariness that had been in Panda’s black eyes before, yet the confusion remained. His attention was turned away again when Principal Yaga continued.
“When Panda died, I had the body hastily brought to me, and a dummy was used during his burial. Panda’s death was a great loss but hidden in that was an opportunity. For the first time since I revealed him to the higher-ups as a mutated cursed corpse capable of complete autonomy, their eyes left me. They were assured that with the restriction placed, I would not create another, and I was ignored. That was the chance we had sought for a long time.
I planned to save Panda the same way I had Takeru, and we were lucky. Unlike other cursed corpses, the mutation that made Panda autonomous and aware also made sure he had a soul. Yet his soul was not like a human’s, still the presence of it at all meant that a soul imprint was left behind on the body, damaged as it was.”
As the principal spoke, his voice changed. It got lighter, happier, and even a small smile broke out on his face, yet as quickly as the seeming joy appeared, it drifted off. “Yet, I was not able to recover it all. Geto’s final attack had burned his body badly, which meant a not-so-insignificant amount of his soul information was ruined, yet enough remained to continue. I gathered the fragmented pieces of the three cores. All of them, from the biggest shards to the tiniest grains, with the help of Satoru. It took us almost three days to find them, even with the Six Eyes, but at the end of the day, we did, and with the help of Master Tengen, I was able to reforge the three cores into one. A single core where what was left of Panda's soul was imprinted.
To create a mutated cursed corpse like Panda, three cores are needed. Now what happens when those three cores, fragmented and broken as they are, are fused into a single super core?” Principal Yaga threw a smile over Toge’s shoulder.
“Despite the fact that it’s my cursed technique, not even I could tell what such a change could bring or create, yet I was desperate enough to try, and this is the result. This is Panda, with a composite soul. He did not survive his death and rebirth unscathed. There are damages to his memories, and sometimes, he acts... different, so I hid him and had hoped to rehabilitate him before reuniting him with the rest of you. The soul is a flexible thing, and if injured, it could possibly heal on its own till he was ready. That was what we planned and agreed, till the cursed corpse that I had following you identified Usami among the elders’ entourage and informed us.”
Principal Yaga’s attention remained on Panda when he continued, with a bigger smile than he had shown in a long time. “Panda insisted we come and back you up.”
Toge turned to his first friend to see that the cursed corpse had found his way to his back, inches away from him. This time when Toge turned to Panda, he gave the cursed corpse the most beautiful smile he could and watched the cursed corpse try to return it with some effort.
“Do you really remember me, Panda?” he mouthed at the cursed corpse, then swiftly used the hand signs as reinforcement for the words, but he need not have bothered, because Panda nodded.
“A bit. My memories are... a bit scattered, but I remember the first time we met, all those years ago.”
Toge’s smile widened as once again tears began to blur his eyes before drifting down his cheeks. This time when he moved to the cursed corpse, he hurled himself at him, and Panda did not step back. His heavy, furred arms instead snapped up while his body braced as Toge slammed into his midframe, then those arms closed around him, just like he remembered them.
It was comforting, and as Toge quietly sobbed into Panda’s furred chest, he mouthed words, words that the cursed corpse couldn’t possibly see, yet the way Panda gripped him the slightest bit tighter told him that the cursed corpse understood.
“As long as you remember me, Panda, it doesn’t matter what memories you have lost. It doesn’t matter if you never get them back. We’ll simply have to build new ones together.”
Principal Yaga stared at the duo for a long second before he turned away with his smile slipping off his face. He was not going to spoil their reunion by allowing them to see the worry on his face. Instead, he gave them their moment as he turned to the fallen form of Usami.
It was a shame to lose the sorcerer. He was strong, strong enough to matter, yet the other man had thrown his lot in with the higher-ups years ago, and not even the rumors of their collusion with Kenjaku were enough to make him reconsider his choices. Yet that was not the worst news.
Satoru had informed him of the death of Toji Fushiguro, and while he did not care much for the man’s death itself, the circumstances surrounding it were his real worry. Ryomen Sukuna was back, in the body of his student, Itadori Yuji. There was a war on the horizon, and Yaga was left wondering just how many more students he would lose by the time it was over.
x
Toji Fushiguro’s burial was a somber affair. The man had few friends in life, and that count did not increase in death. Few knew about the sacrifice he had made, and fewer would have believed or cared, given his reputation. But unlike most, Jiki was aware of the duality of the man.
A long time ago, during their first meeting, he had been simple. Complexity was the farthest thing Jiki could have regarded the man as, but over the years he had grown, changed. He was no longer just a killer, but a father, a teacher, and perhaps, in another life, if fate were kinder, a friend.
Jiki stood at the edge of the small gathering, his hands tucked and buried deep in the folds of his kimono as he watched the closed casket being lowered into the ground. The ceremony was quiet and more ceremonial than anything; after all, there was no body in the casket. The only thing that remained of the man once known as Toji was the ashes Satoru had gathered, and they rested in a beautifully engraved silver vase that Tsumiki clutched tightly to her chest.
The girl had insisted on a burial even though she knew it was symbolic, and it had taken little prodding to find out why. Toji had actually left behind a will, and though Jiki had not been privileged to its contents, the one thing he knew was that the man wanted to be buried beside his second wife, Tomema Fushiguro, judging by the name on the tombstone beside his own.
The burial was attended only by those who knew the truth. Satoru stood somehow farther off than even him. Shoko, Emi, Maki, Principal Yaga, Toge, and Panda stood closer to Megumi and Tsumiki, surrounding them like bodyguards. Panda’s presence was a surprise. No, calling it a surprise was doing it a disservice. His presence had only been revealed minutes ago, and while no doubt everyone present was curious about it, everyone knew now was not the time for questions.
Megumi and Tsumiki stood closest to the grave, and while Tsumiki cried clearly and without care for who was watching, Megumi’s face was an unreadable mask. He didn’t need to be a mind reader to know what the boy was thinking about. He had seen that face on a lot of people in his previous life, most notably, his little brother’s.
Anger, hate, and revenge. He hid it well, yet Jiki could see the tremor in his clenched fists, the rigid set of his shoulders. He was holding himself together through sheer force of will. But more than his physical display, the most worrying was the way his cursed energy fluctuated.
A figure walked up from the gates of the graveyard. A thin man, his body mostly hidden beneath a heavy overcoat. His dull eyes searched before they spotted them, and then those brown eyes, cast in a shrunken face, met Jiki’s slowly spinning red and immediately looked away.
Jiki did not blame him.
Shiu Kong stood there for a minute, and Jiki could see the man wrestling with himself, between stepping forward and having to encounter Jiki again or turning tail and running. At the end of the second minute, the man made his decision and began to walk up to them. Jiki did not grace him with another look; the man was scared of him, and he did not blame him. They had been able to heal his mind, and while he had recovered from the Tsukuyomi, scars remained.
The man walked past Satoru, then Jiki. He slipped past the others before coming to a stop beside the grieving duo, then hesitated for a second before one hand moved and rested lightly on Megumi’s shoulder. He did not say anything, for there was nothing to be said. There had been no priest to pray, no eulogy to be spoken. There were only quiet mourners as well as the laborers who lowered the coffin.
The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the cemetery grounds, and as the last handful of dirt was patted into place, Jiki felt something crystallize within him. It wasn’t rage, not quite the hot, immediate fury that demanded instant action. It was colder than that, more deliberate. It was realization. Toji’s death was on him. The man had been no saint by any stretch. They were aware of the kind of world they lived in, and Toji Fushiguro had killed as many good people as he had bad, but that was just how such things were.
Toji was only there because of the job, and because of that, he was dead, leaving behind a grieving daughter and a vengeful son. He did not allow the realization to weigh him down. Instead, he simply noted it, then added it to his many sins. Yet unlike the rest of them, he could do something about this. Sukuna had killed Toji, and judging by the electrical charges in the air Satoru had noted, Kashimo had helped him.
“I will kill them all,” he said aloud, voice low. There was no anger in those words, no rage, no hate. His words were empty and devoid of emotion. Instead, they served as a simple declaration of war.
Kenjaku had made his move, had brought back Sukuna, and the King of Curses had sent a message, one written in blood and stamped with Toji’s ashes.
“Itadori?” Satoru questioned, his voice just as low. His cousin had appeared beside him a few seconds ago, in time to hear his words.
“He’ll live. I’ll simply have to rip Sukuna from him like I did Yorozu.”
“A solid plan,” Satoru agreed easily. Then there was silence once more as the duo looked on while the burial continued ahead of them.
Their companionable silence was broken when Satoru’s phone buzzed once, twice, three times in rapid succession. The older Gojo pulled it out, his expression growing darker with each message he read.
“What is it?” Jiki asked, though he already knew it wouldn’t be good news.
“Reports coming in from the auxiliary managers. There’s been an attack on Saitama Prefecture.” Gojo’s voice was tight, controlled. “Multiple casualties. Witnesses are describing...” He paused, jaw clenched. “They’re describing Itadori. Sukuna is walking through the streets in broad daylight and slaughtering with Yuji’s body.”
The words hung in the air between them like a guillotine blade as Satoru frowned in annoyance.
“A trap,” Jiki noted in that same empty cadence.
“Maybe, but it does not matter. Just like the last time, they know that we can't call their bluff.”
For a second, Jiki thought about it. It could not be just a coincidence. A rabid and random attack in the middle of the streets, there was only one reason they would do something like that, and it was to draw them out, most likely Satoru in particular, knowing that Jiki would not be able to follow for fear of another attack somewhere else. Yet Jiki was not worried. If Toji was right, then Sukuna was weak. Weak enough that Jiki was not scared of Satoru losing.
“Satoru,” Jiki called out, making the other man turn to him. “Come back quick.”
A ghost of the old Gojo Satoru flickered across his face as his annoyance dissolved at Jiki’s words, and that old, cocky, unshakeable grin spread on his face. “What do you take me for? This would only take a minute.”
Then he was gone, teleported away in a flash of blue light, leaving Jiki to watch the burial come to a close as everyone began to walk away, unaware of the change in the world, as a declaration of war was made, one that was answered in Saitama Prefecture.
A/N: I'm no Gege... Fortunately. So Panda is back, in some sense at least.
We're heading into what would probably be the final Major Arc of this Fic, which opens us up to a vote, one that i would be putting up in a few hours, so stay tuned for that.
Comments
Son-Of-Scorn
Hmm Toji is dead you say, I raise you the Seance technique, surely something can be done with that, especially with how unique Toji is, we've already brought back panda, Toji would be nice too and it would be a while from now so still get the effect of his death on the characters
