The morning dew sparkled along the forest's edge, glistening like a field of tiny diamonds as the sun peeked over the canopy. Birds chirped warily — unsettled by the thick aura that loomed nearby, like fog rolling over a battlefield. The trees themselves seemed to bow, their twisted branches leaning away from the tall boy wandering beneath them.
He walked barefoot, silver hair catching the wind, golden eyes scanning the landscape with both curiosity and calculation. His tall frame moved with grace, but there was a tension in his shoulders — as if something inside him was still waking.
He had been in this world for three days.
Three days of silence, watching the stars, breathing cursed air, whispering to the shadows that coiled at his feet.
And in all that time… he still couldn't remember his name.
"Nothing," he muttered under his breath, cracking his neck. "No fragments. No initials. Just… blank."
He wasn't panicking — he was too composed for that. But there was something unsettling about being nameless. Not because he feared being lost… but because he feared what might be hidden beneath the veil.
"Did I give it up? Or did someone take it from me?"
He clenched his fists again.
The cursed energy inside him rumbled like a waking volcano.
A boy with all the power of Sukuna… and no anchor. No identity. A soul with a shattered label.
He glanced down at his shadow.
It flickered, darker than normal, alive.
"Tell me," he said to it quietly, "if I summoned Mahoraga now… would I survive?"
The shadow pulsed, and the twisted wheel of Mahoraga's silhouette shimmered for just a moment.
He chuckled.
"Didn't think so. Not yet."
He walked onward, finally emerging into an old, rotting shrine. Forgotten by humans. But not by spirits.
Torn paper seals fluttered on the gates. The air was thick with curse energy — lingering traces of failed exorcisms, sacrifices, grief.
And yet, he sat down calmly before the shrine's cracked statue. A faceless god — worn down by time.
"You know, back in my old world, I think I used to pray once. I don't remember the words, or why. But I remember the feeling."
He raised a hand and stared at it.
Long fingers. Pale. Beautiful. Deadly.
"This body isn't mine. But it fits like a second skin. And this power… this cursed ocean inside me… it's endless."
A pause.
"Am I meant to protect this world… or destroy it?"
His shadow trembled.
He looked up to the sky, golden eyes narrowing.
"Neither," he said at last. "I'm here to evolve. To go beyond what I was — whatever that was."
He stood, stretching his limbs slowly.
Training. That was next.
He had three years before the main timeline. Three years until Momo Ayase and Okarun uncovered the strange truths of this world. Until aliens and yokai, curses and chaos poured into the streets.
And he would be ready.
With a flick of his hand, he summoned Nue — the massive lightning bird erupted from his shadow with a screech, arcs of electricity crackling through the shrine.
He smiled. "Go wild."
The bird shot into the trees, electrocuting cursed insects and small spirits nearby. Thunder cracked overhead.
Then he summoned the Divine Dogs — sleek, wolf-like creatures with crimson eyes, tails like blades.
"Run. Track. Hunt."
The shadows scattered with them.
Each movement he made fed into a rhythm — one he hadn't felt in lifetimes.
This wasn't just practice. It was rediscovery.
"Shadow Garden," he murmured, forming the seals slowly. "Chimera…"
The ground around him darkened. Shadows bled outward like ink in water. The space twisted — reality contorting.
But he didn't lose focus.
He kept balance.
Sweat beaded on his brow as the cursed domain flickered to life — unstable, but present.
His heart thundered in his chest.
"Good. Again."
And so, the day passed in brutal meditation and movement. Hours of practice. Of flickering domains and clashing techniques.
Of learning to breathe with the curse instead of against it.
When night came, he sat back beneath the shrine again, body steaming from cursed energy flow.
But this time, a memory surfaced.
Just a flicker.
A voice — soft, laughing.
A woman?
She was saying his name.
And it was…
"Damn it."
Gone again.
He gritted his teeth.
"Why can't I—?"
Then he felt it.
Something small. Soft. Pressing against his shoulder.
A cat.
Jet black. Golden eyes.
It meowed once, then jumped into his lap.
He blinked. "Well… hello."
It purred loudly and curled up, completely unafraid of the cursed energy surrounding him.
He exhaled slowly.
"Even a nameless curse gets a visitor, huh?"
He looked at the cat.
Its eyes met his.
A small warmth bloomed in his chest.
"Maybe I don't need to remember who I was," he murmured. "Maybe it's time I make a new name."
He looked at the sky again. The stars blinked back.
"Call me…"
He paused, considering.
Then smiled.
"Riku."
He didn't know where it came from. It felt right. A name born of wind, thunder, and shadows.
The cat meowed again, approving.
Riku scratched behind its ears.
"From now on… I'll write a new story."
One filled with power.
One filled with love.
One that even the gods will fear.