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Noctis woke up and Noctis wasn't just Noctis. Noctis was somebody else.
Megumi breathed after a week of high fever and deep sleep.
He blinked, staring up at the ceiling. Felt the magic swirling through him. Remembered the sensation of dying. Remembered cursed energy coursing through his body as he forced himself to die to take out his worst enemy.
Noctis blinked again and raised his head. He was in his room. He had an IV in, which said he'd probably been sicker than he thought he was.
He sat up.
“Noct?” Ignis’s voice. “Your Highness!” He was relieved. Noctis watched him lean over, sitting at a chair by his bedside. A pile of papers sat on the desk next to him.
He blinked tiredly and closed his eyes, rubbing his face.
“Noctis, please, lay back down. Your fever only just broke.” Ignis rested a cool hand on his forehead.
Noctis sighed and leaned into it. He could still feel his ‘new’ magic struggling to adapt to the influx of cursed energy. Or was it the other way around? Either way, magic and cursed energy were both filling him up to the brim and it left him feeling nauseous and sore. Too full.
“What happened?” He asked, because that was what people were supposed to ask when they'd been mysteriously sick for a while.
“Let me call for the doctor and your father.” Ignis replied, smiling stiffly. “The good news is that you're… you're in good health, now.”
Noctis laid back down as Ignis pulled his phone out. He ignored the one sided conversation to focus on himself. Breathe deeply and feel the energies rolling around his guts like a raging storm.
Technically, it was his cursed energy that was the foreign power right now. Noctis was used to magic. He hadn't been Megumi in thirteen years. But his soul still knew his cursed energy far better than it knew his magic. So there was some conflict. He was sure it would settle eventually, but he had other things to worry about.
Like the fact that he was royalty and he'd found a fucking book saying he was in a prophecy slated to die. Noctis sighed heavily, face twitching.
His father knew about it. That was certain. More than one person knew about it. But Noctis hadn't known about it. And he didn't think his future Retinue quite knew either. He didn't think Ignis would stand for that sort of bullshit.
A hand met his forehead again, brushing his hair back.
“Noctis?”
He grumbled something vague in awareness.
“Please stay awake, at least long enough to eat and drink something.”
Noctis groaned and opened his eyes but didn't move. He was too tired to move. Physically, emotionally, spiritually fucking tired. At least Megumi hadn't been part of a fucking prophecy. His bullshit life wasn't exactly his choice but it wasn't bullshit ordained by the heavens.
Ignis was perfectly fine being the one to put forth the effort of lifting him up and propping him up against pillows. He even spoonfed Noctis when he just stared balefully at the bowl of soup and didn't make an effort to feed himself.
His best friend fretted visibly, restraining his emotions only by a thin margin. Noctis tried not to care.
His dad entered the room around the time his stomach began to revolt, striding quickly to his side.
“Noctis.” The King settled into Ignis’s chair and clutched at his hand. “How are you feeling? The doctor should be by soon.” Ignis busied himself putting away the dishes.
Noctis stared down at their hands. His eyes caught on the ring about his dad's finger. It shone with a nasty light. Latched onto his dad's energy and draining it away. He hadn't been able to see that before.
It took him a minute to remember he was probably supposed to answer.
“What happened?” He repeated, voice a little less hoarse now.
Regis's mouth flattened and he frowned. “...you fell ill in the library. Something happened to your magic. The doctors- none of them were able to divine what exactly was wrong, except that something is… something has infected you.” His hands squeezed Noctis’s. Thumbs rubbed over his knuckles. “Nothing was working. But you stabilized by yourself and have been resting since. The doctors think it's your magic fighting it off.”
Infected? Noctis considered that, face carefully blank. He doubted it. Cursed energy was dark, true. It was foul and rancid at the best of times. But it was natural. His magic was just ill-equipped to share space with something that was the near antithesis of itself. The adjustment period was going to be… rough, to say the least.
He felt something stir as he focused inwards. Something familiar and ancient tugged at his cursed energy. A howl echoed in his head edged with violent red flames.
His head tilted, listening to the howling. It wasn't really familiar. But he felt like he knew it regardless.
“Noctis?” His hands were squeezed tightly. “My son, will you look at me?” Noctis turned his eyes towards his father. His dad lifted a hand to cradle his face, thumb sweeping across his cheek. “How are you feeling?” His father was concerned. His eyes darted across Noctis’s face frantically.
It took him a moment to work up the energy. “Tired.” And having a hard time concentrating when his head was filled with two lifetimes contrasting so spectacularly. And the fact that he was prophetically ordained to die. Die a second time. And the fact that the howling on the edges of his hearing sounded vaguely familiar.
Regis frowned tightly, eyebrows furrowed in worry. He patted his cheek gently. “Then rest as much as you need.”
Noctis didn't get to rest, as the doctor proceeded to enter the room just then and hassle him. Most of it was just checking his vitals. Then discussing the results with his father and Ignis. Noctis listened in with a distant expression.
There truly was nothing wrong with him. His magic was simply flaring to fight off the magical invader- which had ironically been labeled as a curse. They thought Noctis had been cursed. He wanted to laugh. Except his whole fucking life he'd lived cursed and nobody had said anything.
His magic “fighting off” the curse was causing the illness and weakness. The doctor seemed concerned about his lack of reactiveness but said it could be simply exhaustion. Noctis didn't bother to correct any of it. He just sat there laid up on his cushions until the doctor left.
His father sat by his side, holding his hand, stroking his knuckles and squeezing every now and then. He didn't speak. Noctis didn't ask him to because he didn't expect asking to be any use. When had questions ever gotten him actual answers?
He gave his father plenty of opportunity to say something. There was no way his dad didn't know something. He'd found the old book and found out about the prophecy and then promptly had a fucking past life yeet itself to the forefront in some strange effort to protect himself. At least, that was what he decided was probably the series of events after thirty minutes of pondering the situation. Hard to say when it came to reincarnation. It was a thing for Jujutsu sorcerers, but he didn't think it was a thing in Lucis.
“Noctis,” His dad said quietly. “Why don't you lie down?”
Noctis turned his eyes to his father. There was no way he didn't know what Noctis had found out. He'd been reading the evidence when he fell into a fit. The book had probably dramatically fallen to the floor with the prophecy bared to the world too, with his luck. Just to show what he'd been looking at before his illness.
He blinked a few times as he waited for Regis to say something. Anything.
Regis swallowed and reached over to help Noctis lean forwards, pulling pillows away until he could be laid back down again. Noctis sighed heavily and closed his eyes. His father sat there with his hands wrapped around his smaller one for a bit longer.
When Noctis’s breathing evened out a bit, not having to deal with the strain of sitting up, Regis spoke.
“Did he say anything before I arrived?” Regis asked, whispered carefully.
“No, Your Majesty.” Ignis murmured back. “Just asked what happened.”
Noctis stayed silent and still, breathing low.
His dad rubbed his wrist tenderly. “I grow so tired of seeing my son bound to his bed.” He gave one last squeeze before letting go of Noctis’s hand. “Let me know how he is when he wakes again.”
Noctis ignored the quiet agreement from Ignis, chest tight. Regis was a better father than Megumi's biological father. But that was a really, really low fucking bar. And Noctis was struggling to put “hid a lethal prophecy about him” on his scale of father figures that ranged from “sold him for cash and abandoned him to homelessness at six years old” to “did his best but couldn't raise a hamster much less a human being”.
Regis was ranking distressingly low, currently. Not human trafficking low. But… certainly not near Satoru’s stunning idiocy.
Ignis returned to quietly doing paperwork in the silence. Noctis fell asleep to the rustle of papers and quiet scratching of a pen.
Gladio came to visit. He was already there when Noctis woke up next. In the sitting room actually, which Noctis only knew because he could hear quiet voices talking.
He sat himself up slowly. He was relatively alone. He needed to know.
Noctis formed his hands into the shadow puppet for his Divine Dogs. They rang empty. His shadows trembled, but nothing emerged.
This meant that he would have to redo his summons, as Noctis. At least Divine Dogs required a bare minimum to bind. He could even do it bedbound if needed.
Something was howling. Noctis took a deep breath. He couldn't do a full ritual with Ignis and Gladio just in the other room. The door was fucking cracked still.
But the howling. It was so familiar. Noctis closed his eyes to focus. He reached deep into himself.
An afterimage of four red eyes imprinted behind his eyelids. Noctis gasped. His hands clutched at his blankets. He shook.
Sukuna.
He had died to bind Sukuna. What was he fucking doing here?
The afterimage faded. No matter how hard Noctis dug, he couldn't find more than that trace of Sukuna’s cursed energy. It wasn't as if he was possessed. He remembered being possessed. Remembered burning alive as that toxic cursed energy radiated through his flesh and blood. Until he was dying because he wasn't Yuuji, couldn't survive Sukuna like he could.
This wasn't like that. He couldn't find any hint of that overpowering malevolence that had killed him.
Then why was there still his taint left behind?
“Noct?” There was a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, Noct, buddy, fucking breathe.”
He sucked in air rapidly, going limp into the thick arms that held him. He trembled and choked air down as best he could.
“That's it, easy.” Gladiolus was the one holding him, he realized. “Breathe, Noctis.”
A different hand pressed to his forehead. “Slight fever, but nothing serious.” Ignis tilted Noctis’s head a bit. “Noct? Can you hear me?”
He hummed faintly. His eyes cracked open to see Ignis hovering over them. Gladio was in his bed, holding him up and rubbing his shoulders soothingly. His muscles relaxed and he leaned into Gladio's chest with another hum.
He trusted him. It was strange to think. Megumi trusted exceedingly few people, limited even further by things like possession. But Noctis trusted Ignis and Gladio with his life. It was clashing horribly with Megumi's memory of knowing he could die just about any day and nobody could do anything to stop it. Whether that was Gojo finally snapping and setting the world ablaze or Sukuna finding a loophole in Yuuji’s kindness for a little slaughter and madness. Or you know. The assassins that came after teenagers on a regular basis in jujutsu society.
Fuck Megumi was fucked up. He'd had more attempts on his life than Noctis, literal actual fucking heir to the throne of Lucis. That was really, really fucking terrible.
“Noct? You with me?”
He blinked and hummed to Gladio's worried face. “Tired.” He needed a nap or ten.
They both insisted he stay awake long enough to eat something. If he could get another meal in him he could get the IV out. Despite having distinct memories of despising IVs and anything medical, Noctis couldn't quite gather up the energy to care. His apathy seemed to downright alarm Ignis.
He ate and then lied back down and stared at the ceiling until Ignis and Gladio moved back into the sitting room to undoubtedly talk about him.
“Has there been any change?” Regis asked, voice softer than it ought to be. Ignis didn't comment on it. He'd seen His Majesty vulnerable in familiar ways for the past few weeks. Noctis being injured or ill brought them all back to the marilith attack.
“No, Your Majesty.” Ignis bowed his head briefly. “Noctis has been… quiet and distant. Perhaps a little more awake, but he hasn't done more than sit up in his bed.” Staring up at the ceiling with a face that made Ignis’s skin crawl.
Regis sighed heavily.
Noctis had been an energetic child, once. Then the marilith attack had stolen the life from him. He'd become sullen and withdrawn. Ignis had been thrilled to see the hints of his previous nature come back in the years since he'd returned from Tenebrae. They were faint, but there.
Now he feared this curse had taken what little of Noctis remained. He didn't speak outside of short, murmured sentences. He slept often - which at least was familiar - but when he was awake he didn't do anything. Just stared up at the ceiling.
When Ignis had offered him his phone, hoping to maybe alleviate his boredom, Noctis had sat in the bed and stared at the lock screen for twenty minutes. Then put it aside and laid down to stare at the wall instead.
Gladio hadn't been able to get a rise out of him either. He'd been careful, since Noctis was still ill and weak, but his pushing and prodding hadn't gotten more than tired mumbles and weak shrugs. He got Noctis to play a video game with him, propped up on the couch surrounded by blankets, but the prince's heart clearly wasn't in it.
“Your Majesty,” Ignis said carefully. “I worry- the doctors don't know what this curse is doing to him. Do you think..?”
Regis laced his fingers together in front of his mouth, brown furrowed. “It is possible that the curse is affecting Noctis more than we know. I cannot sense it changing him in any way- as best I can tell, it is merely attached to him and burrowed into his magic. Why his magic has not yet burned it out-” His hands tightened. “I cannot say. But we have never dealt with such a thing before. I have someone searching the archives for curses that have been seen in the past, but none of them were strong enough to attach to the line of Lucis.”
Their magic was extraordinarily powerful, after all. Ignis nodded in disappointment. Perhaps he could do a little research himself in his spare time.
“Thank you, for staying by my son's side.” Regis smiled at him sadly.
“Of course, your majesty.” Ignis bowed.
Three weeks after he'd fallen ill, Prince Noctis disappeared from his rooms. He left a note underneath his pillow. It was probably a bad call, but he didn't want to worry Ignis and Gladio by making them think he got kidnapped.
He had a plan to deal with this stupid prophecy and that plan did not involve being coddled and kept away inside Insomnia and the Citadel for the rest of his life. That plan meant leaving and there was very little that made the idea difficult to him.
Privilege, wealth- both meant very little for him. He'd had both, as Megumi, for countless reasons. Political sway? Pointless. Noctis was too young and by the time he was old enough he doubted he'd miraculously gain the temperament needed for politics. The material benefits to staying in Insomnia until this prophecy came to bear didn't mean jack shit to him. He'd lived with them before, he'd had all of them turned on him before, he'd lived without them before. Easier to make his own damn way in the world by merit of his own ability and power.
No, the only reason Megumi had for genuinely staying were people. And while Noctis had a decent fondness for a number of Citadel staff he wasn't overly attached to them.
Gladiolus and Ignis were the only people that made him truly hesitate when making his plans. He wanted to stay, but overall… he wasn't Noctis anymore. He was, yes. But he was also Megumi. Who lived to sixteen and died a vicious, pained death after a long life of bullfuckery and disappointing adults.
Ignis and Gladio were so worried about him. It was weird to have such genuine concern for his wellbeing focused on him. As long as Megumi wasn't committing crimes against humanity and was still breathing nobody cared about him so much. Sorcerers knew how rough the life was. Getting concerned every time a fellow sorcerer was harmed was a fast ticket to cracking under the strain.
He didn't want them to have to see the Noctis they knew be destroyed. Megumi was Noctis, but Noctis was Megumi. He was fucked up. It was irrefutable and irreversible. The Noctis he was before was gone.
His father… Noctis didn't know how to feel about his dad, right now. At least when Satoru had plans to use him in the future, the man was upfront about it all. Noctis didn't know what Regis was planning. He didn't know why he hadn't told him about the prophecy. He didn't know how to react to what looked like concern and care next to hiding something so incredibly fucking vital.
Was it his age? Megumi was in regular danger by four years old. He was trusted to defend himself lethally (from curses or assassins) by ten. Sorcerers didn't have much of a childhood.
But here in Lucis, thirteen was so young to everyone. Noctis hadn't done himself any favors in training between his general fatigue, lack of enthusiasm, and chronic pain holding him back; but it was still ages behind any sorcerer's training.
Thirteen had him still coddled. Thirteen had him being held back for his own ‘protection’. Thirteen had adults not taking him seriously when he spoke. Thirteen meant they looked at him and saw a child.
Megumi hadn't been a child since he was six years old and he was told he'd been bought, that his sister wasn't wanted, that if he went with his father's family that paid for him he would never see her again.
The Citadel was safe, sure. Relatively. But safety was pointless when he was ready now. He was old enough to hold a sword, he was old enough to handle his problems.
So as difficult as it was, Noctis would have to leave Gladio and Iggy and his complicated feelings about his dad behind so he could go do that.
Noctis needed to get outside of Insomnia. That was the first part of his plan. The rest of it wasn't in any particular order. He just had some problems he had to handle and whatever order he got to them would have to do.
Figure out what exactly was different between daemons and curses. Figure out if sigils that work on curses could work on daemons. Figure out whether or not his cursed energy could exorcize daemons. Figure out if Noctis was a danger to all and sundry because of Sukuna still remaining with him. Figure out what darkness the prophecy talked about. Find this Accursed One and figure out what their deal was. All very vital, but nothing that could be done in the city.
The first step of getting out of the Citadel was fairly easy all things considered. His magic was difficult but if he bundled it up deep inside he could shroud it in his cursed energy. Pulling one inside the other.
This meant that, even if it was still weak, he had enough control over his cursed energy to hide in shadows. Noctis knew the Citadel's security measures. And he knew that very few people could sense magic.
It was easy to skulk around in the middle of the night until he found a desk worker staying a bit late to finish a task. Then he just snuck into his shadow and got comfortable. He didn't even have to do anything. Just waited until he packed up and left the Citadel.
There was a bit of concern, at one point, when one of the Kingsglaives on duty at the safety checkpoint looked around with a strange expression. Noctis burrowed himself deep beneath his cursed energy and breathed. He was shadows and nothingness. Hide behind the shadows and cursed energy.
Cursed energy was different from magic and different from daemons in that it came directly from people. So far the people here had downright negligible amounts of cursed energy but it still existed. It was still the dark emotions and all the nasty things that humans felt.
Noctis clutched at the poor accountant’s cursed energy and tried to hide beneath it. It was probably a mixture of exhaustion and irritation about having to stay so late. It was enough to hopefully look natural.
“Rough night?” The guard eventually asked, face twisting sympathetically.
The accountant jumped a bit. “Huh? Oh. Yeah. You could say that.” He scratched the back of his head.
“Get out of here and get some sleep.” She chuckled and waved him out the door.
It shut behind them and Noctis didn't dare relax, not until he felt like enough time had passed. Then he slid away from the man's shadow on the subway. He ducked into a corner and pulled his hat down.
Getting out of Insomnia was going to be a bit harder. He didn't know if the soldiers at the gates would be so easy to slip. Maybe he could hitch a ride under someone's car, but if the shadows moved too fast he struggled to stay inside.
So Noctis was forced to find someplace to lay low inside the city. He dashed between alleyways and side streets, unsure if there were street cameras or not. Just in case he kept himself to the shadows as much as possible and kept his magic tucked behind cursed energy.
It felt stifling to keep his magic buried like that, like he was wearing a shirt too tight to breathe fully in. But it was just uncomfortable for now. No pain just yet.
Noctis found an abandoned house somewhere near the wall. The front was boarded shut but the back door had been broken into. Looters and squatters had trashed half the place. He tentatively kicked the stained mattress on the floor of the kitchen.
This wasn't permanent. He still didn't want to sleep on the trash mattress. But he had little choice unless he wanted to fuck his back before he'd even left the city. Noctis sighed and scoped out the rest of the house. There was a tiny little basement that looked about right for his purposes. Noctis eyed the ceiling. Support beams dipped and bowed under the weight of the house. No wonder the first floor had creaked so damn bad.
Being buried alive wasn't the worst thing that could happen though, so Noctis began to kick and shuffle debris out of the way. He wished he had a broom. Or a stick. He didn't want to get some of this crap on his shoes.
He considered testing his armiger… but he didn't want to potentially alert someone. He only had a faint awareness of the armiger but it stood to reason that somebody had to be extra sensitive to access in and out. No harm in being cautious.
Once he had the floor cleared of junk, Noctis stood in the center of the room and knelt. Both his hands went flat to the floor and he took a steadying breath in.
He pushed his cursed energy outwards, letting it light up the floor in dark blue.
“With my soul I summon thee.” He chanted in Megumi's native tongue. “With my soul I challenge thee. With my soul I bind thee.” He stood up once the ritual was ready and formed the sign for Divine Dogs. “Gyokuken!”
Shadows writhed and surrounded him. Noctis flinched at the blistering heat that accompanied them. That wasn't right.
A pool of shadows formed and from the darkness two shapes emerged. One black, one white. His heart ached. He hadn't had both of his divine dogs for… a long time. Shiro was long dead by the time he'd died.
Then the shadows writhed and there was a vicious howling. Noctis covered his eyes as bright red flames flashed before him. That familiar cursed energy swelled up in front of him.
It overpowered the two shikigami beginning to form, their howls became twisted shrieks.
Then silence.
Noctis uncovered his eyes and readied his fists. He shouldn't have to fight his divine dogs. They were the first shikigami of the Ten Shadows, requiring nothing but willpower to bind them. But whatever just happened was not normal. He couldn't just assume it would proceed as normal.
Standing in front of him was a massive wolf. Black and white streaks covered it, looking as if something had frankensteined together two pelts. Red light glowed in gaps between the two colors. It flickered as if it was a bonfire hidden below mismatched fur.
Noctis’s breath caught.
Four red eyes stared back at him.
He was frozen, waiting for movement. He was too weak to fight Sukuna Ryoumen. It took everything he had just to bind the bastard before. Right now he was tired and his limbs still shook from extended bed rest.
The giant wolf moved forward. Its head was as tall as Noctis’s torso. He breathed in and breathed out. Stay calm. His shikigami’s “personalities” were entirely based on his perceptions. If he kept calm and-
The wolf pressed its head into his chest, a deep grumble coming from it. Noctis gasped. His hands shook as he gripped the sides of its head.
He could feel the shikigami the same as he used to feel his others. It was powerful and it was vicious and it was possessive. It took one look at him and claimed him in turn.
But it wasn't Sukuna. Megumi had spent a good few minutes intimately aware of what Sukuna’s soul felt like. This… wasn't it. His cursed energy, yes. His power, only a little. But not him.
Noctis broke down. He breathed out and squeezed the massive skull to his chest. Its tail wagged behind it happily.
He cried. He wasn't ashamed to admit it. Megumi had died to keep Sukuna from coming back. He'd taken what little freedom he had and cast a binding ritual to lash Sukuna to him as Sukuna’s own power burned him alive. He'd done what little he could to fucking take Sukuna down with him.
And it had fucking worked.
That was the only explanation for what happened. The bastardized shikigami ritual had taken Sukuna with him when he'd died. Then, somehow, when he woke as Noctis, that binding still took Sukuna with him. Or… something resembling Sukuna. Remnants of him. Residuals, maybe? Stronger than any residuals he'd ever fucking felt but then this was Sukuna Ryoumen. Those residuals had poured themselves into the mold of the summoning ritual. So now instead of the two divine dogs he had one fucked up giant Divine Dog Totality.
The shikigami was happy to nuzzle into his chest as he cried. It was smarter than a shikigami ought to be, but honestly only a little smarter than an actual wolf. Not enough intelligence to make Noctis worry. Just enough to make it strange.
After a few minutes his legs started to buckle. Noctis let go of the wolf and backed towards a wall. Maybe a binding ritual hadn't been a great idea, but he wasn't sure what else he could do to get an edge right now.
The shikigami went with him, letting Noctis lean on it. He should… probably come up with a name for it. He wasn't about to name it Sukuna. No self-fulfilling prophecies allowed here.
Noctis fell against the dirty wall with a groan. His back was going to kill him if he fell asleep down here. It already ached. The shikigami wiggled and forced its way behind him until it served as a backrest. Noctis scratched its chin thankfully.
He didn't mean to fall asleep. But the shikigami was warm and radiated blissful heat into his scarred back in just the perfect way. The cold concrete under his legs kept him from getting too hot. And the shikigami's steady mental presence was comforting.
Noctis blinked awake hours later, eyes scratchy and ass numb. He groaned as he did some careful stretches. The shikigami’s tail thumped beside him happily.
It was probably close to noon when Noctis peeked up out of the basement. They definitely knew he was missing by now. He spent the rest of the day napping and doing basic exercises.
As much as he was confident in his escape, Noctis was still surprised when nighttime fell and nobody had stumbled into his hiding place. He'd expected the city to be up in arms looking for him by now.
When he crept back out onto the street he was less surprised to see that there were, in fact, a lot of people out and about for past sunset. This part of the city looked almost empty. But he could see the fuss in the passing crowd muttering to themselves.
A mini mart had a radio playing when he stepped inside, shikigami plodding along behind him. Thank fuck curses were still invisible to the average person. He didn't want to dismiss it. Its eyes and ears made it easier for Noctis to let his guard down and act casual while it stayed alert.
He grabbed a few granola bars and bottles of water. He had some spare crowns in his pockets just for this. Noctis listened to the radio playing as he wandered the aisles.
The Citadel had released to the public that Prince Noctis was missing. A bit surprising that they didn't want it to be kept hidden for a little while, but then he supposed they didn't know when he'd run off overnight. The radio hosts debated whether it was likely he'd been kidnapped or not. Noctis promptly decided to ignore the radio as he paid for his purchases. The cashier didn't so much as blink twice at his face, hidden behind his bangs and hat.
Noctis stepped into the nearest alley to consider his next move while he ate a granola bar. He still needed to get out of the city. Getting through the wall would be hard. He could just stay homeless, living in whatever dark nooks and crannies of Insomnia he found himself in. But he doubted his ability to stay completely below the radar.
His cursed energy gave him one hell of an advantage, in that so long as there was shadow he could hide. But he already knew that anyone connected to the Crystal's magic could sense him. Could someone feasibly even flush him out of a shadow using magic? The idea made him uncomfortable.
His shikigami boofed lowly. Noctis turned to it with a raised eyebrow. Intent flowed from it with excitement.
It crouched down next to him, tail wagging. Noctis frowned.
“Are you asking what I think you are?” He muttered. It barked. Noctis sighed and zipped up his jacket. He hiked a leg over the wolf's side and settled carefully.
Shikigami were very strong. And this one was very big. Noctis could easily ride it like a pony.
But it certainly did not run like a pony. Noctis had to bury his fingers deep into its fur and bend over as far as he could to not be swept off by the air force and bouncing. The flickers of flame that escaped between patches of fur reddened his skin. Wind rushed by as they dove in and out of shadows.
He wondered what anyone watching would see. Some kid sitting on nothing and zooming through the streets? Or would the dissonance cause a temporary ability to see a curse?
There was a major problem when they began to get to the wall. Noctis didn't even have time to notice before the shikigami bunched together and launched in one powerful move.
Noctis yelped as they soared onto a rooftop, if the tiles he could see under the shikigami’s paws said anything. He couldn't look up. It kept running, sprinting faster and faster until it gave another heaving jump.
Slam.
Noctis rebounded onto hard concrete, nearly flying head first into brick. He wrenched something trying to tilt himself fast enough to hit shoulder first instead of back or head first. Then his shoulder hit and something cracked.
Noctis cursed loudly. He slapped a hand over his mouth, biting down on his tongue to keep from making any more noise.
Look up. Check surroundings. Look for danger.
…he was on the walkway on top of the wall. He was alone, for the moment, but he knew there were cameras up here. Only military was supposed to be up here. They'd be after him soon.
Check for his shikigami, ensure it hadn't been dispelled.
The wolf was flailing on its side nearby. Shadows and energy cracked across the walkway, scoring deep furrows in concrete. It stumbled to its feet and shook itself roughly.
The wolf leveled all four eyes at the magic barrier against the far side of the ramparts. It snarled deeply.
Right. The fucking Wall. The magical barrier keeping daemons out of Insomnia.
Noctis cussed loudly and forced himself to his feet. He pressed his hands up against it. He could almost feel the magic flow around him.
The shikigami padded up next to him, sniffing and shoving the barrier with its snout.
Noctis considered this. He held his hand out to pet the shikigami before dismissing it. The wolf growled at him before petulantly dissolving into shadows.
Noctis had been hiding by cloaking his magic in his cursed energy. Cursed energy, while very different from daemons, was still inherently dark. Noctis could see why the Wall would think them daemons. Especially given Sukuna’s residuals.
He took a deep breath and focused on drawing his cursed energy back. Reverse what he'd done. Swap the placement of cursed energy and magic. Let his magic swell up and hide the darkness of cursed energy.
Noctis walked through the Wall like it wasn't even there. Fucking fantastic. He backed up and checked his shoulder. He had limited time to set it, climb up onto the rampart railing, and figure out how the hell to climb his way back down.
His shoulder was indeed dislocated. It also screamed with a sharper pain that said something else was wrong with it. Noctis carefully shifted his arms around until he could pull it back into place. Megumi had more than his fair share of first aid knowledge. Setting a dislocated shoulder was only novel in that he'd never had to set his shoulder by himself before.
At least he'd saved himself a concussion. Noctis had enough fucking chronic pain at thirteen years old. He didn't want to add chronic migraines from recurring head trauma to the mess. Not like Megumi had been starting to deal with.
Noctis climbed up onto the railing, glad it was plenty thick enough to crouch on without struggling to balance. He didn't think he could summon his shikigami from up here. He was still technically inside the Wall. Nor was he certain it could actually jump down safely from such a height.
There was the sound of a door opening and a shout.
Noctis cussed and leapt. He might die from a fall from this height. He might also just break a leg or two. It was hardly the stupidest thing he'd ever done. No, that would go to summoning Mahoraga and hoping it could actually kill Sukuna.
Noctis laced his hands together as soon as he fell far enough away from the wall to escape the magic circling it.
“Gyokukun!”
His shikigami howled madly as it formed underneath him. They barely made it. His shikigami burst into scatters of shadow as soon as they hit the ground. Noctis went bouncing across the hard earth.
He groaned and forced himself to sit up and do a sitrep.
Body? In one piece. Shikigami? Injured, but only dissolved. He didn't have the hazy hyperalertness of a concussion but there was blood dripping down his forehead. His legs were both functional. His back was screaming at him but not to the point of severe injury.
Noctis staggered to his feet, hearing distant shouting from above. He pulled on his shikigami. It wavered, unable to reform. A searchlight was being turned in his direction.
He limped away from the wall as fast as he could. His back was not going to like him once he had a chance to lay down and rest.
Considering he was walking directly into the dark of night outside Insomnia's walls, Noctis doubted he'd get a moment of rest anytime soon. The searchlight almost caught his back as he kept going. He barely slipped into the shadow behind a bush in time.
Fortunately for Noctis, it would seem that the daemons were more interested in everything except him. All it took was a flare of cursed energy to chase them off shrieking.
It was curious, honestly. Noctis had never gotten this close to a daemon outside of the marilith attack. They didn't feel like curses. They felt like darkness. Close to his shadows, in that they were a pure absence of light rather than the negative energy of curses.
The bigger daemons probably wouldn't be intimidated by him. Covered in blood, stumbling and limping through the dark. Noctis made sure he wouldn't have to risk it by steering very clear of them.
By the time the sky began to lighten Noctis had to lose searchers twice. He was never more grateful for his shadow hopping, as it gave him a near infinite number of ways to move without a trace in the dark of a cloudy night. He followed some daemons towards a cavern and dove deep within. Once safely out of sight he tried to summon his shikigami once more.
It wobbled and took far too much energy, but he managed to pull it through. The wolf licked his face frantically as he slid to the ground.
“Keep watch. Wake me when night falls.” Noctis said as he closed his eyes.
Once again the wolf forced him to sit with his back against it. It was much colder in the cave and his back was in enough pain that it was heavenly. Noctis dropped off to sleep in a heartbeat.
The wolf only needed to narrow its four eyes at any daemon that approached to chase them away. Noctis slept until the following night, unaware of distant voices and footsteps. The shadows hid his sleeping body well.
By the next night he was far out of the city's sight on his shikigami’s back. Not the most comfortable ride, especially given his screaming back and shoulder, but worth the speed it gave him.
While his shikigami ran, Noctis thought and planned. He needed resources before he could start going down his list. Somewhere with lots of daemons to hide amongst with a lot more cover than the open scrublands of Leide.
A forest would be best. He’d poked at some maps before leaving. So far he was undecided between the Nebulawood and the Vesperpool…