The Ordinary Boy and the Witch Who Wasn’t
Pairing: Ken Takakura x Scarlet Witch! Fushiguro! Reader
A/N: this little series was inspired by @chuuyrr and their “Chaos” one-shot series, platonic! jujutsu kaisen x scarlet witch! baby fushiguro! reader. I highly recommend you read it, it’s amazing. Red dividers were made by @uzmacchiato , @limesoda69 , and @drifting-moon .
CW⚠️ : Violence and gore (including physical attacks and dismemberment), abduction / captivity / restraint, psychological distress, bullying, mild language, and references to body horror / grotesque transformations.
It’s strange, isn’t it — how one small interaction can spiral into something you never see coming.
Nothing was different that day. Your shoes made light taps on the same brown hallway floor, passing by the same windows and white walls along the same route you always took to your next class.
Even if there were a few times when it was disrupted for a minute by a classmate talking to you or when you paused at a vending machine to buy a snack, you’d continue back on your path.
Just like that day. You caught something in the corner of your eye and turned to look. There was a boy with short, slightly messy dark brown hair — a few strands sticking up on top — wearing glasses and reading what seemed to be a magazine. At first glance, he radiated awkwardness. Crumpled-up paper balls were being thrown at him, followed by cruel laughter and harsh words.
Without another second spared, you walked in and pulled up a seat in front of the boy. He looked far too unfazed by the bullies for anyone in his position, and you were sure that your presence and small action were shocking to him. You found the thought unpleasant. You heard them commenting about wrapping a magnet with paper to throw next and waited for the bullies to turn around. When they did, their smiles quickly slipped away and their laughter silenced.
For extra measure, you made your eyes flash a quick red, making them tense up, a chill crawling down their spines — too quick to be sure they’d seen it, but enough to make their instincts scream run.
Your demeanor did a 180 as you smiled and turned to the boy.
“What are you reading there?”
He stumbled over his words as you gently plucked the magazine from his hands to see what he was reading. You were expecting it to be either a comic book or something to do with anime. Instead, you saw a plethora of conspiracy theories involving the occult.
You blinked.
Maybe you shouldn’t have been surprised — but you were. Of course, the boy sitting alone, getting pelted with paper balls, would be reading about things that shouldn’t exist… and yet do. Hell, you were walking, breathing evidence that they exist.
You almost laughed. Of course. The first few people you talk to outside your family end up reading about the one thing you can’t escape.
You looked back at the bullies to make sure they were keeping to themselves before handing the magazine back to the boy and leaving to continue on your way to class.
It was a small disruption that only took a minute of your time — insignificant, with no reason for more to happen.
And yet…
“Miss Y/n Fushiguro!” a voice called out to you.
You turned around and saw the same boy, looking away from you.
“I know what you’re into!”
Taken aback, you replied, “What?”
“I know what you’re into!” he repeated.
“You said that already,” you said flatly.
“There’s only one reason someone like you would talk to me, and that’s the reason you talk to me!”
You seriously hoped he wasn’t suggesting what you thought he was, but just in case, you’d rather say it outright than let it snowball by being polite and stepping on eggshells.
“I’m not looking to date someone.”
“This is the reason — look!” he said, opening his magazine and practically shoving it in your face. It was the same occult one from earlier.
Thank god.
“The President has already gone to Mars! What is the entirety of Project Pegasus?!”
Or not.
“The U.S. President has met with aliens!”
Okay, you considered yourself open-minded when it came to what could possibly exist in the supernatural world — being born as the Scarlet Witch, raised by jujutsu sorcerers, and seeing things like curses, spirits, and yokai for as long as you could remember left no room for doubt that many things could exist on this planet.
But aliens? That sounded a bit silly, didn’t it?
“You’re into the occult, aren’t you?!”
“No, I don’t believe in UFOs and stuff like that,” you replied.
“They’re not UFOs — they’re UAPs! Unidentified Aerial Phenomena!”
“I don’t recall asking,” you said blankly, starting to feel annoyed.
“The U.S. military officially recognized the existence of VAPs and reorganized its space force!”
Taking note that he was still going to talk your ear off while looking away from you, you decided to take the opportunity to start walking.
No wonder he gets bullied.
You got a few steps ahead, but he noticed.
“Huh?! Hey, wai— They have the latest sighting of Nessie in here!”
You pinched the bridge of your nose, inhaling and exhaling so you wouldn’t accidentally lose your temper and say something hurtful. You turned around just in time as the occult boy caught up to you. Not knowing what to say to shut him up, you placed your hand on his face without a second thought.
A pause passed, and you immediately felt awkward and embarrassed — but hey, at least it worked. The boy was startled enough to stop info-dumping at a hundred miles per hour. However, every second that passed left you unsure what to say or how to explain what you were doing, and panic started to trickle in alongside your embarrassment. Thankfully, the boy broke the silence for you.
“Miss Fushiguro… what are you doing?” he asked incredulously.
Blast him! an intrusive thought interrupted. You shook your head to yourself.
“I need you to take a breather,” you said.
A silent moment passed.
“Did you take a breather yet?” you asked.
He nodded, and you took your hand off his face.
“Perfect. Now breathe and remember: not every weird light in the sky wants to probe a farmer in Ohio. And if they are real, they’ve seen Earth and decided to keep driving.” You turned and started to walk away.
You felt a wave of hurt and sadness from behind you, which made you stop and turn around. The sight made you wish you hadn’t — it instantly made something in your chest tug uncomfortably. His back was hunched, shoulders deflated, head drooped, arms loose at his sides, the occult magazine in his right hand looking ready to fall at any moment.
You sighed. Now you couldn’t just leave him there like that. You walked up to him.
“I don’t believe in aliens, but I do believe in things like ghosts and… curses.”
On a whim, you gave just a sliver of the truth about your world with that last word. You didn’t know why you did. You felt a prickle of nervousness at saying it, but eased slightly, knowing he’d most likely think of a different kind of “curse” than the one you actually meant.
But then the sound of the occult boy giggling threw you off.
“There’s no such thing as ghosts.”
“What!” Now you were ticked off. “You were just going off my ear about believing in all that crap!”
“You shouldn’t have mocked the occult!” he exclaimed.
I thought this dude was a pushover! What the fuck is this?!
The two of you glared at each other, teeth grinding in annoyance and anger. But then you felt a sense of challenge — and it felt… fun. Your expression shifted to a confident smirk, the kind unfortunately inherited from being around your dad too much.
“You ever seen an exorcism?” you asked.
And that’s where it started — a moment where you forgot you weren’t a normal teenager, and feeling human led you to the stereotypical dares teens give each other. The kind that gets them into trouble, the kind that caused a hassle to deal with — all while facing a curse.
Which led you to where you are now — an abandoned location that Occult-kun swore was a hotspot for UFOs.
Your phone screen glowed red, and the last thing you heard was him screaming about the ghost in the tunnel you dared him to enter.
“Hold on, I’m coming!” you shouted into the phone, hoping he heard you. But before you could teleport to his location, there was a faint hum in the air — the distortion of sound, and the sharp scent of ozone and blood.
Your mind went quiet, like someone had turned the world’s volume knob down to zero. Before you could think to move, your body went slack and hit the floor. Eyelids heavy. Thoughts sluggish. The world tilted, spinning in confusing directions. The last thing you saw before everything went dark was a pair of polished black business shoes.
Consciousness returned slowly — like swimming through heavy fog.
The first thing you felt was a cushion beneath you; it felt like a pull-out chair. You tried to move your arm but felt something restraining your wrist. The same when you tried to move your legs.
Your head pounded, thoughts crawling sluggishly into place. For a moment, you weren’t sure if you were awake or dreaming — everything around you moved too softly, like the air itself was breathing.
Then came the hum. Low. Constant. It thrummed beneath your skin, vibrating in your teeth, syncing with your heartbeat until you couldn’t tell which was which.
You forced your eyes open. Light bled into your vision — bluish and bright. The world tilted, blurred, then steadied just enough for you to realize you weren’t anywhere familiar.
The smell hit next — metal, ozone, and something faintly burnt. The same scent you’d caught before everything went dark.
You pushed yourself upright, muscles trembling. The silence pressed down on you — too thick, too deliberate.
“…Occult-kun?” The nickname slipped out before you could think, your voice raw and quiet. No answer. Only the hum.
Your eyes widened as the haze cleared from your mind — you remembered. You’d been trying to teleport to him.
“Greetings, female human.”
The voice was male, but too calm — wrong.
You looked around to find yourself seated in a chair, your thighs and ankles strapped down, wrists held by strange floating devices.
In front of you stood three “men” — if they could be called that — with skin that shone like latex, reflecting light in a sickly, oily sheen. Their large black “eyes” were more like deep, endless pits, and their smiles were too wide for a human face — as if the skin might tear at any moment.
“You’ve got to be kidding me…” you muttered.
“We are Serpoians. We call ourselves such because we are from the planet Serpo,” the first one said.
You sighed. Might as well entertain yourself with the new knowledge that aliens were real and see what they were planning.
“Do not be afraid. We are a friendly species,” another added.
You snorted. “I don’t recall people giving warm greetings via sedation and captivity. Or is this just what you aliens do?”
Does that count as racism?
“Our species is exclusively male. Therefore, we reproduce through clone technology,” the Serpoian continued.
Every nerve in your body recoiled from where this was heading.
“However, as biological evolution does not occur among identical individuals, competition and emotion have been eradicated from our race. Therefore, in order to regain reproductive functions similar to humans…”
Maybe racism was okay when it came to Serpoians.
Just as you’d had enough of their monologue and were about to unleash your chaos magic, a familiar jingle cut through the tension. Your phone.
“Someone with incredibly bad timing is trying to contact you,” one of the Serpoians said, walking toward it. He picked up the device — the same red glow pulsing across its screen.
A limb shot out, smacking the Serpoian and sending your phone tumbling.
A bony, red, wrinkled hand slammed onto the floor. Another followed. Then legs. Then a head — an old, demonic-looking woman with too many teeth and skin stretched thin across her face.
“Occult-kun!” you gasped.
The yokai — Turbo Granny — scuttled forward, diving under one of the Serpoians. Her jaws unhinged as she bit his crotch off, launching him into a wall. Sparks and a cascade of glitching pixels rippled through the air.
Serves these bastards right.
“Miss Fushiguro! I’m sorry!” Occult-kun cried, his body grotesquely twisted — arms bent at impossible angles, his chest facing upward while his legs twisted in the opposite direction. Half his face was his own, the other half that of the yokai — as if a demonic mask had fused to his skin. A jagged red line split his features from scalp to chin.
“There was a ghost! Turbo Granny got me and put a curse on me!” he blurted, panic-stricken.
The sight made you wish you could close your eyes and rewind everything. And isn’t it cruel that you technically could — yet the weight of your power, the chaos magic that defined your existence, forbade you from undoing fate.
“Please help! I can’t control myself!” he shouted, just before Turbo Granny took over again.
Enough was enough.
As the Serpoians and Turbo Granny clashed, you focused your magic, snapping yourself free from the restraints. Turbo Granny was thrown against a wall, revealing half of Occult-kun’s face again.
“We have a friendly relationship with humans. We have never encountered someone so aggressive,” a Serpoian said.
You slowly turned your head toward him, expression flat.
…Bitch.
“Please give us your banana.”
“Fine! Take it! Take whatever I have!” Occult-kun shouted. “All I ever wanted was to meet an alien! I never had any friends — I thought if anyone would be, it’d be aliens! Ever since grade school, I’ve been staring up at the sky, calling out for you guys to show up! But you never did! No matter how many times I called, you never came! I was bullied by kids and ignored by aliens — my life sucked! No one cared if I was alive or dead. But Miss Fushiguro… she’s the only one who stood up for me! So get your lousy hands off her!”
You froze. Your heart stuttered — then raced, wild and uneven.
You’d always known he was lonely — you’d sensed it in the way he let the bullies push him around, in that quiet indifference. But hearing it out loud, hearing his voice crack with every word, seeing how raw and real it all was — it hit deeper than you expected.
“And I won’t let anyone hurt her. You hear me?” he gritted out.
What?
“I’d do anything for her,” his voice warped. A warmth bloomed in your chest, rising to your cheeks. “I’d turn into a monster for her.”
You didn’t know what shifted in you — only that something did. You’d had family tell you they’d protect you before, but this… this felt different.
And the last part — it struck something deep. You’d always been terrified of yourself, of what you were capable of. You’d long known how far you were willing to go for someone — too far, maybe. Far enough to become the monster yourself. You’d never say it out loud. Admitting it would make it real, and you weren’t sure they’d still look at you the same way. Saying it out loud might make it happen, and yet most people only want to hear about love, not the ruin it leaves behind. Deep down, you’re afraid you wouldn’t regret it.
And yet here he was — a powerless, terrified boy, already half-consumed by a yokai, declaring he’d become something monstrous for you — you, the Scarlet Witch, prophesied to either rule or annihilate the cosmos.
Occult-kun tried to move, but the Serpoian slammed him into the wall again.
“I’m sorry… I don’t think I can save you,” he strained.
“You gave up quick,” you clipped.
Your fingers twitched. Scarlet light twisted and coiled like smoke, alive and restless, ready to fight. Occult-kun gasped as the Serpoian turned toward you.
“Subject anomaly. Scarlet frequency detected. You are… unstable matter. This organism will be reclaimed.”
It raised a hand — a shimmer of warped air pulsed toward you. The “Fie” — that strange psychic wave — hit, but your magic had already wrapped around you like armor. The blast dissolved harmlessly into swirling red energy.
“That won’t work on me,” you said, voice low.
The Serpoian froze mid-motion. Its psychic hum fractured into short, stuttering bursts. “Error—error—scarlet field interference. Command signal disrupted. Anomaly exceeds containment threshold.”
“Miss Fushiguro, you never said you had powers!” Occult-kun exclaimed.
You sweatdropped internally. “Sorry. I’ll explain later.”
“My psychokinesis is being pushed back by a greater force! What happened?!” The Serpoian sputtered.
You didn’t hold back. Chaos magic surged around you, building in intensity before you blasted the alien straight through the wall and out of the UFO.
“Guess I don’t have a choice but to believe in aliens now,” you said blankly.
“And I don’t have a choice but to believe in ghosts now,” Occult-kun croaked.
You and the occult boy laid down side by side on the grassy ground next to the highway, a few feet away from the crashed UFO.
“What do we do about this curse?” Occult-kun asked.
You knew you could use your chaos magic to lift the curse from him; however, there was a theory you wanted to test out. Selfishly.
“Turbo Granny is the one who placed it on you, so we’ll have to confront her,” you said.
“Oh right, guess I’ll go back to the tunnel,” he said as he got up and made his way to the highway.
You raised an eyebrow and got up to follow him.
“This is all my fault. This all happened because of me. I won’t get you involved in whatever happens next. I’ll force myself to get to the tunnel somehow. What else can I do?”
You winced at what he said.
This moron.
You’re the one who is at fault here. You knew the supernatural existed, you are an embodiment of that evidence, and you grew up with jujutsu sorcerers. Yet you still endangered an innocent civilian by daring him to go to an allegedly haunted location.
“You do realize I’m the one keeping a lid on you right now, right? You won’t be able to go up against Turbo Granny without going berserk,” you said.
A pause.
“Are you sure? You don’t have to, you know,” Occult-kun said weakly.
“Do you have wax clogging up your ears? Did you not hear what I just said?” You let out a soft sigh. “You’re lucky I don’t hex you for that.”
You walked up to him, lightly bumping your shoulder into his. “C’mon, let’s head to my grandma’s house first.” Thankfully, he listened and walked with you.
“Listen, I’m sorry. I’m an awkward guy,” Occult-kun apologized.
“Really? I never would have guessed,” you grinned.
Ah shit, a civilian was thrown into the supernatural world, chased, possessed, cursed, abducted, and wounded within an hour—and I don’t even know his name.
A sheepish laugh escaped your lips. “Uh… I just realized I never got your name.”
“Ah—Takakura. Ken Takakura,” he said, rubbing his neck.
“Well, Ken Takakura, nice to meet you. I’m Y/n Fushiguro.” You giggled at the absurdity of introducing yourself now, after everything.
He blinked, then laughed too—a small, breathy sound that carried more relief than humor. “Yeah… kind of late for introductions, huh?”
“A little,” you admitted, smiling despite yourself.
Both of you laughed, realizing just how surreal it all was.