The first time Nanami Kira saw the Arrow, he was still a high school student. He had grown up in Sendai. He'd awakened cursed energy as a child, but from a very young age he had learned to hide, to conceal everything about himself, to wear the mask of a normal person.
So the jujutsu world had no records of Nanami Kira.
If the Arrow hadn't chosen him—if a chain of events hadn't set everything in motion—he might have spent his entire life in that quiet little town.
He still remembered the first time he saw it. The slender shaft. The eerie patterns. The dark-gold luster. It had plunged straight into his chest.
According to records, the Arrow originated from a mysterious meteorite. It was one of the most enigmatic Special Grade Cursed Tools in the world.
Everyone else who had been pierced by the Arrow died. Kira knew why: they lacked the resolve to face it. They lacked the courage to sacrifice everything for a single purpose.
So they all died. Being pierced by the Arrow was a trial—a trial of will.
The Arrow did not kill the body. It destroyed the soul of the one it pierced.
This was easy enough to reason out. The physical wound the Arrow inflicted was trivial—unless it struck a vital organ, it couldn't possibly kill.
The Arrow was, in essence, a Cursed Tool that targeted the soul directly.
And the reason Sukuna could not truly die was precisely because his soul was indestructible, dwelling within his twenty fingers.
The Arrow could kill Sukuna.
But there was another possibility: Sukuna might pass the Arrow's trial and awaken a shikigami akin to Killer Queen.
Leave it to fate.
Nanami Kira gripped the Arrow and drove it into Sukuna's abdomen. Blood gushed instantly.
"Accept the trial of fate, Cursed Spirit."
He said it quietly.
The slender shaft punched clean through Sukuna's body. The sharp arrowhead sank in deep, and its eerie patterns seemed to come alive.
Sukuna's pupils contracted. He stumbled back several steps. His arms fell limp at his sides.
The air went still.
The Domain began to fracture.
The blood-red sky dissolved first. The crystalline lake drained away. The temple faded into darkness.
The small animals Sukuna had dragged into his Domain squealed and scrambled, huddling together, tumbling to the ground in panic.
Rain finally fell, crashing down on them.
Thunder flickered through the clouds.
The world went quiet.
Sukuna stood with his head bowed, motionless, the light in his pupils slowly dimming. His hands hung limp at his sides.
Kira withdrew the Arrow. A ring of blood sprayed outward. He watched Sukuna in silence.
Silence, and more silence. It seemed as though Sukuna had lost the trial of fate. The wound on his chest had not healed. It seemed his defeat was preordained.
It was ten o'clock sharp. Kira's bedtime.
He couldn't remember the last time he had waited like this.
To his senses, a century seemed to pass. In reality, only seconds.
Wind blew. Rain fell. Thunder rolled. All of it faded. The world had never been so still.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Faint at first—then clearer, steadier, faster, like a war drum.
That long-absent silence was shattered by the sound of a beating heart.
Sukuna's four eyes snapped open, every pupil bloodshot.
"Interesting. Interesting. How dare you."
Sukuna laughed aloud. He was ecstatic. That experience had left him savoring every moment. What was a trial to ordinary men was nothing but a game to the King of Curses.
His will was absolute. His resolve, unmatched. His desires, utterly simple.
Do what he pleased. Kill whom he wished. Answer to no one.
That was Sukuna's will. No force could shake it.
Sukuna was truly elated. He rejoiced at the power he'd gained, exulted in reaching a new plane, reveled in the new vista before him.
He mocked the human before him for his impudence. He was smug, he was triumphant, he was wild with glee, his mouth splitting into a manic grin:
"A trial of fate? You had the nerve to test me with something you yourself could pass?"
"The king of this world was always meant to be me—Ryomen Sukuna!"
"Are you happy right now, Sukuna?" Kira cut him off.
"You're elated, aren't you. You don't feel the slightest despair. You're brimming with hope for the future."
"Good."
Squelch.
The wet sound of a blade entering flesh.
Sukuna's grin froze. Blood seeped again from his heart, trickling slowly downward. The Arrow had pierced him a second time.
Kira leaned close to his ear and whispered:
"Then please—die."
He ripped the Arrow free, spraying arcs of blood.
Every ounce of cursed energy surged into the Arrow. Black fire flickered once more. Along Sukuna's skull, at every 7:3 point, the Arrow drove home.
One thrust. Withdraw. Trailing threads of blood. Black Flash. Another strike...
The soul took blow after catastrophic blow. Fatal wounds, each and every one. All vitality screamed and twisted in the Arrow's edge, crumbling to ash piece by piece.
The second piercing of the Arrow demanded absolute despair to grant power. Without it, the subject would simply die.
Sukuna's pupils dilated. His body began to dissolve. His arms dropped.
Kira said quietly:
"You passed the trial of fate. But you didn't pass my trial, Cursed Spirit."
Rain veiled his eyes, but his gaze remained as calm as ever—placid, unshaken, like some strange ocean where no storm, however vast, could raise a single wave.
He pulled the Arrow free one last time and left these final words:
"I didn't give my permission. So fate doesn't get a say."
Just as Nanami Kira had said—he was unstoppable.
Yuji Itadori's body collapsed. Thirteen fingers clattered to the ground.
Sukuna was the King of Curses after all—even in this state, he had not completely perished.
Kira tucked the fingers into his coat and secured the Arrow. With only one arm, everything was a struggle.
His body was a map of wounds. Several gaping holes in his chest. He knew he had to leave.
He had to make it home before eleven.
He staggered forward, gripping the railing, descending one step at a time. Rain battered his feet. Fog choked the mountainside.
Then four figures appeared.
"Congratulations, Kira-kun. You defeated Sukuna."
Mahito smiled, tossing the boy he'd been carrying to the ground. He tilted his head.
Jogo said nothing. Hoshino Ei laughed softly.
Suguru Geto narrowed his eyes and spoke:
"Now eat the fingers. Become the new King of Curses."
"If that's inconvenient, we can help."