The training grounds smelled of damp earth and dust, sunlight streaming through the tall walls. Takeru adjusted his dark blue sunglasses, trying to calm the flutter in his chest. Yuji was already bouncing around, eager as ever, practically vibrating with energy.
"You ready to get wrecked?" Yuji asked, tossing a practice dagger between his hands.
Takeru smirked. "You wish."
A shadow stretched across the field, and the unmistakable figure of Satoru Gojo appeared, hands tucked casually in his pockets, blindfold perfectly in place. "Ah, my two vessels," Gojo said, voice light but carrying that dangerous edge. "Today's the day we see if you're just kids playing hero—or if Sukuna's influence actually did something useful."
Takeru felt a shiver run down his spine. Sukuna. The name alone made the hair on his arms stand. He could feel the cursed energy inside him shifting, stirring. And then… it happened.
A pressure on his cheek, soft but undeniable. He froze. Yuji noticed immediately.
"What the—?"
Takeru staggered back slightly. On his cheek, impossibly, a mouth had formed. Small, cruel, and grinning. The lips moved, words forming that no human could have spoken:
"Finally… a body worth talking to."
Takeru's stomach twisted. The voice came from inside him, yet outside, from the mouth itself. He could feel Sukuna's presence, ancient and hungry, brushing against the edges of his mind.
"Keep calm," Gojo said casually, strolling closer. "That's Sukuna. He's… chatty today."
Yuji gawked. "Chatty? That thing—on your cheek—is talking?!"
"Yes," Gojo replied, adjusting his blindfold. "That's half of the King of Curses in your body. He's got opinions. He's got sarcasm. He'll say things he shouldn't, probably make fun of you, maybe try to scare you. Treat him like a roommate. One very hungry, very violent roommate."
Takeru clenched his fists. The mouth on his cheek spoke again, voice low and teasing:
"Such a small vessel… and already trembling. Pathetic. But amusing."
He felt Yuji step closer, hand on his shoulder. "We got this, Takeru. Just… breathe."
Training began. Gojo's methods were chaotic—he threw them into exercises designed to push cursed energy control to the limit. Takeru felt Sukuna's mouth moving as he attempted spells, his words mocking, instructing, or just whispering dark encouragement.
"Ah… finally, a proper thrill," the mouth said as Takeru managed to make a small cursed energy pulse. "Stronger than expected… for a human, at least."
By the end of the day, sweat dripping and muscles screaming, Takeru felt exhausted—and yet… exhilarated. Sukuna's presence was terrifying, yes, but also gave a strange sense of power. A reminder: he was no longer just Takeru. He was something more… something dangerous.
Gojo waved them over. "Not bad. Not bad at all. Keep that energy, but remember—don't let him control you. He's like… a very sarcastic, very homicidal roommate who refuses to pay rent."
Takeru pressed his hand to his cheek. The mouth had vanished for now, leaving only a faint, unnerving imprint in his mind.
Yuji nudged him. "Same time tomorrow?"
Takeru nodded. And deep down, he knew the answer. He didn't just want to survive training—he wanted to master it. Not just for himself, but to keep Sukuna in check, and to make sure whatever path they were on didn't end in disaster.