PROLOGUE THE DEATH COUNTESS

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       EVERY JUJUTSU SORCERER HAD HEARD the story of the Shihai Clan — parents told their children bedtime tales to show them what happened to sorcerers who stood on the wrong side of good and evil, textbooks related the gruesome deeds of its members and how, in the end, they were defeated by the righteous, sentenced to death. But history is told by the victors. And so, every version of the story failed to mention that the Clan members disappeared before they could face punishment. All except one:

       Shihai Noriko.

       The Death Countess.

       A monster tale of her own.

       With her cursed technique, her ability to raise the dead, to control their corpses like puppets on a string, Shihai Noriko was the most dangerous woman of the Heian Era. Death was left in her wake wherever she went — massacre upon massacre, bloodbath upon bloodbath. And her army grew. They feared her because, even among jujutsu sorcerers, her powers were deemed unnatural. An abomination. She was an omen of destruction, a goddess of death.

       And yet that was not the most monstrous thing about her, that was not what made everyone who looked upon her run for their lives. No. What terrified the people wasn't her appearance, her ink-black hair and her ghostly skin, or her army of the dead. It was the fact that she was never alone. Everyone knew — where the Death Countess went, the King of Curses was not far behind.

       Shihai Noriko stood at Ryomen Sukuna's side throughout his reign of terror — until she was captured and executed by jujutsu sorcerers.

       They killed her without a second thought, simply erased her tremendous power, without acknowledging any of her remarkable feats. Who else ever commanded an army of the dead? Who else managed to be seen as worthy by the King of Curses? Shihai Itami — formerly Noda Itami, she had gotten rid of the name when she returned to her family — never cared much about her Clan's ideologies, never understood their worshipping of and undying loyalty to Sukuna. But, then again, she didn't care much about anything at all, that just seemed to be who she was.

       But as she looked at the painting hung on the wall in the drawing room — at Sukuna in his true form with four arms and two mouths, and behind him Shihai Noriko dressed in all black, her skin eerily white, only her eyes glowing red, with her hands held in front of her face, forming the hand sign used for expanding her domain —, Itami couldn't help but think, What a waste. Noriko had deserved a better ending, a proper ending, worthy of her power.

       "Entrancing, aren't they?"

       Itami looked to her left, seeing her mother and her father entering. It was her father who had spoken, a meaningful smile on his lips. Her mother, Yume, walked further into the room, lowering herself onto the carpet at the table, cross-legged, her hands folded in her lap. Her father, Ichiro, came to stand next to her, his gaze transfixed on the painting, a reverent expression adorning his face. Itami could never understand his — and every other Clan member's — devotion to them. They were just people. Powerful people, yes, but just people nonetheless. Like everyone else.

       Itami shrugged as she looked back at the painting. "I wouldn't say entrancing," she said — what was that even supposed to mean, entrancing? It was a painting. "I just think that Noriko's death was a waste. The mighty Death Countess — killed, just like that. Like she was nothing." Again, she shrugged, then turned away. "A waste."

       "Is that why you never told us about her?" her mother spoke.

       Itami sat down across from her. What is she on about now? she thought, sighing. "About who?"

       "Your daughter."

       Itami's blood ran cold. "My what?"

       "Your daughter," her father said, his voice firm, as he sat down at the head of the table. "Noda Jun. That's her name, isn't that right?"

       Itami could feel a shiver run down her spine. How did they find out about her? Despite the panic wrapping its fingers around her heart, she jutted out her chin, reigning in her facial features. "Yes, and? What about her?"

       Her mother gasped. "You really have a daughter." Shock was painted on her face, shock and something else, something that Itami couldn't identify — awe, maybe? Why would her mother be in awe, though? "I have a granddaughter," she whispered, a smile forming on her lips. Yume looked at her husband. "We really have a granddaughter."

       Itami frowned.

       "Yes, yes, I know," Ichiro said, waving her off. Yume's face hardened. "More importantly, she is the next bearer of the corpse animation technique. So, why did you never tell us she existed?"

       Itami stared at her father— no, not her father. Right now, he was the Clan head. This was not about any distorted notions of family. This was about power. About the Death Countess. About the King of Curses. Maybe Itami was not made to be a mother, maybe she couldn't care enough about her daughter to actually be her mother, but she knew for sure that Jun had a better life with her dad than with the Shihai Clan.

       "How did you find out about her?" she asked instead of answering.

       "Her cursed energy," Ichiro responded. "The shadow scythe is a common technique among us, you know that." To demonstrate his point, he stretched his arm out to the side, shadows materializing at his hand, forming a large scythe. Itami looked at the weapon towering over her, swallowing. She herself had not been blessed with a strong technique, making her more or less worthless in the Clan's eyes. That was why no one had really looked for her when she ran away with Haru, her now ex-husband. The scythe vanished, and Itami relaxed. "So, Jun's cursed energy is familiar. And because the school is sending her on more and more missions, we could pick up on it."

       Oh, right, Itami thought, the school. If she had a good enough grasp of time, Jun would have started her second year at Tokyo Jujutsu High by now. Time was a funny thing — here, at the hidden location of the Shihai Clan's mansion, Itami felt it slipping through her fingers. She hadn't realized she'd left Jun and Haru about four years ago already. Jun must be... what, sixteen now?

       "Itami," her mother said with a soft voice. Itami raised a brow. "Why are you here when your daughter is growing up somewhere else?"

       Itami scratched her temple. "Being a mother just wasn't for me. So I left."

       Yume shook her head, her forehead creasing. "You just... left?"

       "Yeah. I left a note, though, they should be fine." She shrugged. She wrote down everything there was to say. She was sure they understood why she had left.

       "How old was Jun?" her mother asked.

       "Twelve," Itami said. Then she frowned. "Or maybe eleven. I'm not sure."

       "You're not sure?" Yume sounded bewildered. Itami raised an eyebrow. Why was she reacting like that? "Itami, she's your daughter, how can you..." She trailed off, shaking her head as if she couldn't find the right words. Itami's confusion grew. "How can you care so little about your own flesh and blood?"

       Itami huffed a laugh. "You're overreacting, Mother."

       In all honesty, Itami knew that her lack of feelings for her daughter — and everything else — wasn't normal, wasn't natural. But that seemed to be part of who she was. She could never bring herself to care much for anything, be it her parents, her Clan, her Clan's ideologies... The only time she was really overcome with feelings was when she met Haru. Somehow, he had found a key to her heart — he had broken down the barriers around it and unlocked it. She thought she would love him forever, that she could have a normal future with him, the simple and idyllic family life.

       But even those feelings had faded.

       She still felt a certain fondness for him, and she trusted him more than anyone else, but nothing more.

       "Itami—"

       Yume was cut off by Ichiro, "Enough." His voice wasn't loud, but hard as steel. It didn't allow for any disobedience. Both, Itami and her mother, shut their mouths, their attention solely focused on Ichiro. His stone-cold gaze was trained on Itami. "You didn't answer my question." Itami stayed silent. "I don't care about your sentimentalities — or lack, thereof —, but I want you to tell me why you kept it a secret from me."

       "From us," her mother added, giving her husband a dark look.

       Ichiro ignored her.

       Itami could feel her body growing hot under her father's stern gaze, claustrophobia setting in. Suddenly, she felt as if her skin had become too small for her, and she felt the urge to bolt from the room, outside, away. But she stayed in her place, her hands clenched into fists under the table. "Jun has a good life. Her father loves her. Just because I don't love her as much as a mother probably should, doesn't mean I don't care at all, and I know leaving her with her father was the best for her."

       Ichiro barked a laugh, an ugly laugh, one that made Itami's skin crawl.

       "That weak jujutsu sorcerer? You think someone with Shihai blood should grow up with someone pathetic like him?" Ichiro's gaze turned into a glower. "They despise us, Itami. They want us dead. And you left her with someone like that?"

       "Her father is a good man, she is safe with him," Itami insisted. Haru was the best man she had ever met. Maybe her love for him had diminished, but her opinion of him never changed. She was sure that, even now, she loved him more than Ichiro had ever loved Yume. Where Itami was indifferent, her father was cold. And his coldness was much scarier than her indifference could ever be. Still, quietly, she added, "And he doesn't know. I never told him my real name."

       "So, the girl who could become the most powerful curse user of her time doesn't even know who her family is?" Her father's voice was low, a quiet rage tinged his every word. Itami tensed, a thread of fear coiling around her intestines. The urge to move, to get out, became something tangible, something she desperately fervently needed — but she couldn't. She felt like she was tied down, confined to her own body.

       She forced herself to breathe. "No. She doesn't."

       It was safer for Jun and Haru. If anyone found out about Jun's heritage, she would become a target. Jujutsu society would brand her an enemy, they would persecute her. They weren't picky with death sentences. But that wasn't the only danger she would face. The Shihai Clan was ruthless, and if they got their hands on Jun, her life would belong to them. All her dreams for the future, or whatever normal people had, would be forfeited. And Haru would lose his daughter — or worse, be killed.

       Itami didn't want that to happen...

       "We have to change that," her father mused, in thought, folding his hands in front of his mouth, his elbows on the table. "I have someone keeping an eye on her, but we need to enlighten her on who she is."

       "How can you be sure that she carries the technique inside her? What if it's... not her?" Itami asked, shrugging.

       Sure, she had suspected it herself already, even before Jun was born, when she was just a bunch of cells swimming in Itami's womb. But she hoped it wasn't true. The corpse animation technique wasn't like any other technique (at least she didn't know of any other technique like it), because it didn't manifest in a person's childhood. It needed to be activated. And there was only one way to forge a connection with the dead, to be able to animate and control them: Dying.

       She had heard the stories about what the Clan had done, 500 years ago, when the time had come for the next corpse animation bearer to appear. Every child of the same generation had been tested — mind walkers (another common technique in the family; two of Itami's cousins inherited it) inspected their minds, their brains, for signs of the technique. The Clan head didn't hesitate to kill every child deemed a possible bearer. But they didn't always get it right. And there was plenty of collateral damage.

       "It's time," Ichiro simply said. "500 years have passed since the last corpse animation bearer. There's no one else but Jun. It's her."

       Itami sighed. She knew her father was right. Every 500 years, someone with the corpse animation technique carved into their brain was born. After the Death Countess a thousand years ago, there was one man who had the technique, but he died young, killed by a jujutsu sorcerer when he got cocky and thought he could overthrow Japan's jujutsu society. He was stupid, Itami always said when he came up in conversation.

       Now, another 500 years had passed, and there was only Jun. It had to be her. Though Itami wished it weren't.

       "You want to kill her," Itami said, her tone matter-of-fact.

       A sinister smile graced Ichiro's lips. "I want her to become what she is meant to be."

       "The next Death Countess."

       "Yes."

       "It's her destiny," her mother declared.

       And this time, Itami couldn't suppress her skepticism, a disbelieving laugh escaping her before she could hold it back. "Her destiny?" she repeated, mocking. "Right."

       Then Yume's expression changed. The look on her face — the greed for power, for retribution against the jujutsu society — made Itami remember why her father had married her, and she swallowed. Sometimes she forgot that Yume was also a devoted member of the Shihai Clan, not just her mother or Ichiro's wife. She believed in all this, and she worshipped the King of Curses. She just seemed so... normal next to her husband. "I'm serious, Itami, have you seen her?" Yume pulled something out of the pocket of her yukata and slid it over the table toward Itami: It was a picture of Jun. "She is the spitting image of Noriko."

       With mild interest, Itami regarded the photo. It showed Jun on the subway, in the company of a brown-haired girl shorter than her. (Ichiro really had someone watching Jun.) Jun was wearing the typical Jujutsu High uniform — a dark blue pleated skirt and dark blue cropped jacket — but she combined it with fishnet tights, chunky platform boots, and lots of silver jewelry. Her mother was right, though. Jun's pale skin and long pitch-black hair created an eerie likeness between her and the Death Countess. The only difference was Jun's fringe.

       It was uncanny.

       And it reminded Itami that Jun looked almost nothing like her. Where Jun's features were soft, Itami's were sharp, and where Jun's eyes were dark, Itami's were light. Itami's skin was a little tanner too, and her hair was brown instead of black. Subconsciously, she moved one of her two braids behind her shoulder. Itami had always thought Jun just took more after Haru, but apparently, she took after Shihai Noriko, her ancestor from a thousand years ago.

       "Do you know what this means?" Yume asked.

       Itami furrowed her brows askance. "Not really."

       "It means she is meant for greatness." Yume smiled, proud, as if Jun was her daughter, as if she alone was responsible for Jun being the next bearer of the corpse animation technique. "She will fight at Sukuna's side when he returns."

       Itami's gaze hardened. She noticed how Yume said when and not if. They were so sure that he would return someday. They had so much trust in his power, it was pathetic.

       What hit her, though, was that this was coming from her mother, not her father. She had thought that if someone would be on her side in deciding to keep Jun away from this family, it would be her mother — she had seemed so happy to have a granddaughter. But now she realized she was wrong. Yes, Yume was happy to have a granddaughter. But she wanted her to become part of the Clan, another brain-dead follower of Sukuna, just like Ichiro did. She wanted Jun to become the next Death Countess, even if it meant she would face the same useless fate as Shihai Noriko.

       "We just have to activate her powers," Ichiro said, smiling at his wife for the first time during this conversation. Itami wasn't sure who was more deluded in their beliefs, her father or her mother. Then, he reached for Itami's hand and said, "And we want you to carry that honor. We want you to kill her." And suddenly his grip on her fingers felt like steel, like a cage, and she could feel fear pooling in her gut, her skin shrinking.

       For the first time since her return to the Clan, she wished she had stayed with Haru.

       "Me?"

       Her father nodded.

       Itami wanted to get out of here. But she remained frozen in her seat. "Why?"

       "Because you're her mother," Yume said, as if that would explain everything. It didn't. It only resulted in Itami's dread intensifying.

       When she looked from her mother's proud and encouraging smile to her father's resolute expression, she realized she had no choice in this matter. It was already decided. She breathed in, reminding herself that Jun wouldn't die — or, at least, she wouldn't stay dead. But her daughter deserved something better. Itami might not be meant to be a mother, and she didn't love Jun as much as she should, but she didn't want her to end up like Shihai Noriko. And she did not want to kill her.

       Then, a thought struck Itami, and she sat up straighter. There was one more thing... A hole in her parents' plan. "What about Gojo Satoru?"

       Her father's gaze darkened, and she could see the muscles in his jaw twitching. Oh, he hated that boy and his family. They were the driving force in sentencing the Shihai Clan to death, and they were the ones to capture and execute the Death Countess. Just the mention of them made Ichiro livid. Itami counted on it that some of that rage was rooted in fear. "What about him?" he said through gritted teeth.

       "Isn't he in Jun's year at Jujutsu High?" Itami said, and she prayed that she got the math right. She was basing this off of an educated guess, and she hoped it would work. "That means they're probably friends. He's the strongest sorcerer alive, how will you— we get close to Jun?" Gojo Satoru's birth changed everything. Most curse users went into hiding, cursed spirits increased in strength. He might be merely a teenager, but he was a force to be reckoned with.

       "Gojo Satoru is a child," Ichiro declared, his voice louder than before. Itami had to stop herself from flinching. Her father rarely raised his voice. Nothing good ever happened when he did. He took a deep breath, gathering himself, before he gave Itami a look that she couldn't identify. But she didn't like it. "I have a plan," he simply said. Itami frowned. "Jun will receive her birthright, I promise you that. And when jujutsu society ultimately turns against her, she will join us. We will train her. We will prepare her for the return of the King of Curses."

       With that, it was decided.

       Noda Jun would die.

       And Shihai Itami would be the one to kill her.

i listened to Blood Countess by karliene on a loop while writing this-

ANYWAY, welcome to this story and jun's family. her mother is,,, something - definitely not mother of the year, but she's a very interesting character. but yeah jun's family is the shihai clan who are so loyal to sukuna that it borders on worship and they have their eyes set on jun, let's all wish her good luck, she'll need it 👀.

also, i love the lore of this story, which would not be what it is now without kirby (-dreamscaapes) - we actually come up with some good stuff when we put our one shared brain cell to use.

sooo, i hope you enjoyed the prologue, and let me know what you thought!!